Segev Kalfon is only 27, but the past two years have aged him in ways that no one can fully understand unless they've lived through something similar. He was one of the hostages taken from the Nova music festival on October 7, 2023, and held deep underground in Gaza until his release on October 13 as part of a ceasefire deal.
Now back in his hometown of Dimona in southern Israel, he is trying to rebuild a normal life, but the memories of captivity follow him everywhere, especially at night.
“I'm living proof. I felt every moment of it in my body. I saw it all with my own eyes.
During those long months in the tunnels, Kalfon often escaped in his mind to a simple, peaceful place: a supermarket. He would imagine himself walking slowly down the aisles, looking at all the bright packages, picking up his favorite snacks, breathing in the smells of fresh food. It was a small dream, but it kept him going when reality was unbearable.
From Dreams of Freedom to Nightmares of Captivity
Now that he's free, the dreams have changed completely. When he closes his eyes, he is back in that tiny 2-square-meter room, lying on a dirty piece of foam with five other hostages. The walls were bare cement, and to stop himself from losing hope, he would count every crack, every mark, over and over again. Hunger was constant, and the beatings came almost every day.
"I was in the lowest place a person can reach before actually dying," Kalfon has said quietly in interviews since coming home. He had no control over the basics of life—no say in when he could eat, drink, or even wash. At the worst times, he lost so much weight that he could feel every single bone in his back sticking out. The lack of food, the darkness, the fear—it all pushed him to the edge.
One of the strangest things about being free, he says, is how the world has flipped.
For two years, his whole existence was about trying to stay quiet and obedient, hoping his captors might give him an extra bite of bread or skip a beating.
Now everyone around him—family, friends, even strangers—wants to help, to comfort him, to make things easier.
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Life Before the Nova Festival Attack
Before everything changed, Kalfon's life looked very different. He worked in his family's bakery in the nearby town of Arad, getting up early to help bake fresh bread and pastries for the customers. He was also studying finance and investments, planning for a steady future. He enjoyed the simple routines of work and school, spending time with friends and family.
All that ended at the Nova festival. When the rockets started and the attack began, Kalfon and his closest friend tried to help others get away safely. He remembers seeing a group of people hiding inside a large yellow dumpster and begging them to come out and run with him. He warned them it was too dangerous to stay there. For the entire time he was captive, he wondered what happened to them. Only after he was released did he find out the terrible truth: they had all been killed.
That day, militants killed around 1,200 people and took about 250 hostages. The war that followed has caused enormous loss on both sides, with Gaza's Health Ministry reporting more than 71,000 Palestinian deaths. Those numbers come from detailed records that UN agencies generally consider reliable.
Endless Fear Underground in Hamas Tunnels
Life in the tunnel was endless boredom broken only by fear. They received a tiny portion of food and water once a day, if they were lucky. The hostages faced constant threats: heavy Israeli bombing that shook the ground above them, illnesses like COVID with no medicine, days without enough food, and regular physical abuse. Kalfon described how the guards used bicycle chains or hit them while wearing large rings to cause more pain. There was no energy left to scream, and even if there had been, no one would have heard them thirty meters underground.
The hardest period came in the last three months, when Kalfon was moved to solitary confinement. Alone in the dark with almost no human contact, he felt his mind starting to break.
Faith as a Lifeline in Darkness
Life in the tunnel was endless boredom broken only by fear. They received a tiny portion of food and water once a day, if they were lucky. The hostages faced constant threats: heavy Israeli bombing that shook the ground above them, illnesses like COVID with no medicine, days without enough food, and regular physical abuse. Kalfon described how the guards used bicycle chains or hit them while wearing large rings to cause more pain. There was no energy left to scream, and even if there had been, no one would have heard them thirty meters underground.
The hardest period came in the last three months, when Kalfon was moved to solitary confinement. Alone in the dark with almost no human contact, he felt his mind starting to break.
Return Home and the New Battle Within
His release came along with 19 other surviving hostages in a ceasefire agreement helped by the United States. Kalfon feels deep gratitude toward President Donald Trump for making the deal possible, calling him a messenger from God. His family has hung American flags around their home to show their thanks.
Being back has brought new challenges. Suddenly Kalfon is well-known across Israel—his face and name were everywhere during the campaign to free the hostages. People stop him to offer support and call him brave. But he doesn't see himself that way. "I'm not a hero," he says. "Any person would do whatever they could to stay alive."
He already had a diagnosis of post-traumatic stress before the kidnapping, and now the trauma is much deeper. "The war outside may have paused, but the war inside me is only starting," he explains. He tries to stay busy with appointments and activities to keep dark thoughts away. But when night comes and the house is quiet, the memories return. A small unexpected noise is enough to wake him in panic, pulling him straight back into the tunnel.
For the near future, Kalfon wants to share what happened to him as widely as possible. He has been shocked to learn about the increase in antisemitism around the world since he was taken—people tearing down posters of the hostages, questioning whether the events really happened the way Israel says. "I'm living proof," he says firmly. "I felt every moment of it in my body. I saw it all with my own eyes."
Recovery will take time, maybe years. But step by step, with help from family, doctors, and his own determination, Kalfon is working to build a new chapter. His story is a painful reminder of what war does to ordinary people, and of the long road back even after the fighting stops.
David Martinez
World Affairs Reporter
David Martinez is a world affairs journalist with expertise in international relations, conflict reporting, and global humanitarian issues. He has reported from conflict zones and has an eye for the political dynamics of international crises.
