On the terrifying morning of October 7th, 252 people were kidnapped from Israel to Gaza. The brutal attack became one of the darkest days in Israeli and Jewish history, etched into collective memory forever. Almost immediately, countless campaigns and initiatives sprang up to keep the hostages in the public eye, making sure the world wouldn’t move on while they remained in captivity.

One of the most surreal and heartbreaking aspects of this tragedy is how, in an instant, these individuals and their families became famous—without ever choosing to be. Suddenly, they weren’t just who they were before. They were “hostages.” But at their core, they were still themselves—people with favorite songs, coffee orders, and clothes they loved to wear.

Throughout this time, families and friends of the hostages found powerful ways to preserve their individuality, using their passions and quirks to create movements of awareness and solidarity. Here are some of the most well-known ones:

🐆 Leopard Wednesdays for Romi

Romi Gonen was kidnapped from the Nova Festival on October 7th and spent 471 days in captivity before being released on January 19th, 2025, in a hostage exchange deal. One of the most gut-wrenching moments after her release was seeing her first video—walking, crying, and asking, “Where is my mother?” Her mother, Merav Leshem Gonen, had become one of the strongest voices in the fight to bring the hostages home.

Romi is known for her love of leopard prints, and during her time in captivity, her friends and family turned that love into a movement. They launched רביעי מנומרומי (Leopard Wednesdays for Romi)—a play on Mean Girls’ iconic “On Wednesdays, we wear pink” and the Hebrew words for leopard print (מנומר) and her name (רומי).

Every Wednesday, social media flooded with people wearing leopard-print clothing, sharing photos, and using the hashtag #מנומרומי—a way to keep the hostages in public consciousness and manifest their return.

After she was freed, Romi took to Instagram to thank everyone and remind them that the fight isn’t over. Now, she’s home and ready to be part of it herself.

🧘‍♀️ Yoga for Carmel

This story has a tragic ending—but it’s also a testament to resilience, hope, and the power of the human spirit to find strength in the darkest places. Even in captivity, Carmel Gat found a way to help others. She led yoga and meditation sessions for fellow hostages, giving them tools to maintain their mental and physical strength. Survivors who made it back spoke about how vital her guidance was in keeping their hope alive.

Carmel, 40, grew up in Kibbutz Be’eri and later moved to Tel Aviv. She was studying for her master’s in occupational therapy when she was kidnapped from her parents’ home on October 7th, along with her sister-in-law, Yarden Roman Gat, who was later released in the first hostage deal. Tragically, Carmel did not survive. Her body was found in a tunnel in Rafah and was brought back to Israel, where she was laid to rest in Kibbutz Be’eri.

But her presence didn’t fade. Inspired by her love for yoga, a movement began. Across Israel and beyond, yoga sessions dedicated to Carmel became a symbol of remembrance and resistance. The most well-known is the weekly Friday morning practice at Hostages Square, led by her cousin, Shay Dickman—one of the most vocal activists for the hostages’ return.

Each session doesn’t just focus on movement—it tells a hostage’s story, keeping their names and their struggle at the forefront. Carmel gave so much to those around her, even in captivity. Now, people move in her name, making sure her story keeps inspiring action.

Photo by: Dani Peer

🎶 Music for Evyatar

Evyatar David, a musician from Kfar Saba, was kidnapped from the Nova Festival on October 7th. Since then, his family and friends keep his spirit alive the way he would have wanted—through music. They started “Evyatar’s Jam”, a weekly jam session every Thursday at Hostages Square in Tel Aviv. What began as a small gathering to keep his name in the public eye has grown into a powerful movement, bringing together people from all walks of life to sing, play, and stand together. Music as protest. Music as hope. Music as a refusal to forget.

Famous artists, including Keren Peles, have joined, amplifying the voices calling for the hostages’ return. But these gatherings have become more than just jam sessions—they’ve turned into deeply meaningful communal moments. During Sukkot, participants held a Hakafot celebration, where religious and secular people danced side by side and united in the same fight.

His sister, Ya’ala David, keeps inviting people to show up:
“Music was Evyatar’s greatest love. Come be part of this.”

And every Thursday at 8 PM, people do—keeping the music alive, keeping the beat going, keeping hope from fading.

The Passover Haggadah of Liberty

Ending with something truly special—a way to both support the Hostages Family Forum and celebrate Passover with deeper meaning.

The forum has created the Haggadah of Liberty, a beautifully woven collection of texts, reflections, and personal stories from returned hostages and their families. It draws inspiration from the Passover Seder, which hostages Agam Berger and Liri Elbag managed to celebrate while in captivity—almost unbelievably.

This Haggadah doesn’t just retell the story of the Exodus—it raises the voices of those who made it back and those still waiting for their own redemption. As we sit down with our families this year to recount the journey from slavery to freedom, let’s not forget those who are still waiting to come home.

🔗 Here’s the link to purchase the Haggadah and support the Hostages Family Forum:
Haggadah of Liberty

As Passover approaches, and we sit around our tables telling the story of freedom, let’s not forget the ones still waiting for theirs. The stories of Romi, Carmel, and Evyatar—each so personal, so full of life—show us how love, creativity, and community can keep hope alive, even in the darkest times. These aren’t just campaigns—they’re lifelines. A way to say: we see you, we remember you, and we won’t stop showing up. So this year, as we break the matzah and sing the songs, let’s hold space for them too—and hope that by next Passover, everyone is home again.