12-07-2025
On the Gaza border, Israeli children's football games can become life or death
The mortar shell struck just two seconds after the red alert blared out, giving the group of children playing football no time to react.
It exploded 30 metres away. Miraculously, no one was hurt.
In one sense, the informal kickabout near the edge of Kibbutz Nirim was like countless others across Israel on a balmy evening last Sunday.
But in another, it was unusual, taking place less than a mile from the Gaza perimeter fence, and the full-blown war raging on the other side.
'There was a deep sense of worry, for the children and everyone outside, because there wasn't time to take shelter,' said Maya Liberman, community manager, the following day.
'It brings back all the anxiety and fear. You can't let your kids go out to play soccer. You can't let them go even one metre from the house.'
When The Telegraph visited, the sound of the conflict just over the fence in Khan Younis was inescapable: from the thud and crack of airstrikes and artillery shells, to heavy machine guns and the constant whine of drones.
This is now the reality for increasing numbers of October 7 massacre survivors, who are returning to their homes in the so-called Gaza envelope after the army lifted most restrictions at the end of last month.
Some are coming home out of choice.
However, many are being forced back out of economic necessity, exacerbated by a row with the government over unpaid relocation grants, which could see them out of pocket by the equivalent of more than £10,000 a family.
Meanwhile, Hamas fights on.
Although significantly degraded from the organised force that crossed the wire to such brutal effect in October 2023, it is still capable of inflicting painful losses on the IDF and threatening Israeli communities with its rockets and mortars.
Arnon Avni, a political cartoonist and elder statesman of the kibbutz, having lived there most of his life, showed us round some of the many concrete shelters that litter the otherwise idyllic conurbation of low-rise buildings set among tall trees, lazy in the heat.
'We don't love it, but we're used to it,' he said, referring to the risk of rockets. 'I was sleeping in a shelter under this road as a three-year-old during the Sinai campaign,' he said. 'Then again in the Six Days War.'
Despite his frontier mentality, the 72-year-old admits that last Sunday's mortar attack was a shock.
'I spoke to the woman who runs the kindergarten and she said that the next morning, a lot of the children had regressed in their behaviour,' he disclosed.
'These kids remembered what happened.'
Nirim was one of the first Israeli communities attacked by Hamas on October 7.
Terrorists infiltrated through the west of the kibbutz and soon got into a firefight with a small team of civil defence volunteers and a handful of IDF soldiers who happened to be in the area.
Seven people were murdered in Nirim, with four taken hostage, of whom two women were subsequently released.
The two men who were abducted were subsequently confirmed to have been murdered in captivity.
The toll was far less than other kibbutzim, such as nearby Nir Oz, which lost roughly a quarter of its population, killed or captured.
This is thought to be because Hamas killed a senior IDF officer who was trying to fight them off. When they realised his value, they weakened their attacking force by sending fighters back to inform their commanders, thus giving the defenders a better chance.
Mr Avni, along with his grandchildren, had to hide in his safe room for 11 hours before being rescued.
The kibbutzniks of the Gaza envelope have more reason than most to wish for the destruction of Hamas.
But the overwhelming impression when The Telegraph visited was of a people who wanted the fighting to stop – even if that meant Hamas was not fully defeated.
If reports from Washington are to be believed, Donald Trump has pressured Benjamin Netanyahu to end the war for good.
It is believed the president has even offered Hamas his personal guarantee that Israel will not resume fighting if a proposed 60-day ceasefire – currently being negotiated in Qatar – ends without a longer-term ceasefire agreement.
That raises the prospect of an enduring Hamas armed presence in the Strip, contrary to Mr Netanyahu's oft-repeated war aims.
Yiga Krihely-David, 43, was out walking his pair of terriers.
'I don't care about Hamas – they mean nothing to me,' he said. 'I want the 50 hostages, dead, alive, to come back.'
Unlike Mr Avni, the father of three is not a born kibbutznik, but decided to move to Nirim with his family from Ashkelon four years ago for the relaxed, communal lifestyle.
'I don't have any regrets, but sometimes I wonder why I've put my kids in this situation,' he concedes.
'They understand,' he said of his six, 10 and 13-year-olds. 'We tell them everything.'
Walking around Nirim, it takes a while to realise just how heavily defended this place is, mainly because the squat, concrete architecture is so ubiquitous that it has become the norm.
Nearly all the communal buildings have been constructed to withstand explosions, whether it is through west-facing windows that hide in recessed folds of the wall, or, in the case of the kindergarten, a bomb-proof canopy that encases the entire school.
In the case of incoming fire, residents need to be able to get to a safe place within 12 seconds of the siren sounding, such is their proximity to Hamas.
As an artist, Mr Avni has done his best to lighten up the military-use structures, painting big hearts or other child-friendly designs on the concrete stairwells to an underground shelter, for example.
In his office, he shows a picture of himself crouching on the floor – and smirking – during a red alert with Yair Golan, a decorated former IDF general and now chairman of the Left-wing Democrats party, whom he counts as a friend.
That gives an indication of his politics.
Indeed, 20 years ago, he celebrated the removal of Israeli settlements from the Gaza Strip, a move intended to foster better relations between the two peoples. Then came Hamas's brutal takeover a couple of years later, heralding the 'rocket drizzle' that he and his neighbours have lived with ever since.
'Look, most people here just want to stop the war, particularly because of the kidnapped,' he said.
'If it weren't for them, then the debate in the kibbutz might be bigger.
'Have you seen the pictures [of Gaza]? I don't believe there is anything left to blow up.'
Hamas has said that, in principle, it will release 10 living Israeli hostages over the first 60 days of a ceasefire, in return for a dramatic increase in aid and the release of – presumably – hundreds of Palestinian prisoners.
As of Friday, negotiations between Israel and Hamas were believed to be caught up on the extent of the IDF withdrawal and the future distribution of aid.
Whatever happens, due to US pressure, it seems more likely this week than it did before the Iran campaign that Hamas may cling on in Gaza in some form, although Mr Netanyahu still rules that out.
It means an uncertain future for the children of this kibbutz and those nearby.
Mr Liberman summed up the feeling, particularly of parents.
