Former hostage Liri Albag on surviving 477 days in Gaza

More than two months after her release from Hamas captivity, Liri Albag is finally sharing her harrowing story - a testimony of resilience, hope, and survival.

Albag, who was abducted from the Nahal Oz military command center along with four fellow soldiers on October 7, spoke to Kan News about her 477 days in captivity, revealing new and haunting details of what she endured.

She recalled her last conversation with her parents from the outpost that fateful morning: “I told them there were reports of terrorist infiltrations, a raid. By 7:44, shots had already been fired at us, but I wasn’t hurt. Then the line went dead.” Moments later, a masked terrorist stormed in, spotted a group of female soldiers hiding in the bulletproof shelter, and left - visibly startled. “They weren’t expecting to find a group of girls,” she said.

Within minutes, a battle broke out. The fighting ended with her capture. “They handcuffed us and said we were going to Gaza. We sat on the floor of a military jeep. Sixteen terrorists joined us. People in Gaza greeted them with dancing and cheering.” She was taken to an apartment - what would become her first prison.

“There were already other hostages inside - Aviva, Keith, and Agam. Four terrorists lived there, along with one of their families: a mother and three young daughters, the youngest just three months old. Eleven people crammed into a tiny two-room apartment.”

On the 34th day, after Israel’s ground operation began, the hostages were separated. “They took us into a tunnel where we met Romi Gonen. Then Dafna and Ella joined. Emily came the next day. Six of us were packed into a cell just 1.5 meters high. We couldn’t even stand. All we had to eat was two pita breads—for everyone.”

They could hear the war rumbling above them. “The terrorists told us negotiations were happening, that we were part of the deal. That gave us hope.”

When Hanukkah approached, they hoped for a miracle. “We asked for candles. They couldn’t find any but brought us an electric one. We lit it, said the blessings, and sang Hanukkah songs. They stripped us of everything - but they couldn’t take our Judaism. That was all we had left. Our prayers were the only thing that still made us feel different.”

As the months dragged on, hope gave way to despair. “We thought about how we weren’t married, how we could be raped, how no one had rescued us. We were told Israel refused to take back dead bodies - only the living. We thought, ‘What are you doing? How can you miss this chance?’ Every day we told ourselves, maybe tomorrow.”

Later, Liri was transferred again - this time with Agam. She asked the terrorists for a radio or phone. “He brought a radio. I heard Israeli music. It kept me going.”

By April, Liri was bold enough to take the radio herself. “I’d tell them not to interrupt while I listened. It gave me strength. I even heard interviews with my family.”

On Memorial Day and Holocaust Remembrance Day, they asked for candles. “We stood when we heard the siren. The terrorists didn’t understand and looked frightened—like they thought we were part of some cult.”

Then came the moment she had dreamed of. “They told me to get dressed to record another video. A car pulled up. In the back were Karina, Daniela, and Naama. We stared at each other in disbelief. ‘Liri,’ they told me, ‘we’re going home tomorrow.’ I couldn’t believe it - until I was in the IDF’s hands.”