A year ago, the world witnessed a shocking moment—a young man, emaciated and frail, was made to dig what Hamas claimed would be his own grave. He looked like he could barely handle the shovel in his hands.
For many, it was just a horrific video that flashed across their screens and was soon forgotten. But for Ilay David, it was a deeply personal nightmare. That man was his older brother, Evyatar, and all Ilay could do was watch from afar in despair.
Days after that video surfaced, the David family sought assistance from then-President Trump through this newspaper. Evyatar’s face was featured prominently, labeled with the urgent headline: “STARVED OF HUMANITY.”
“At that moment, we were uncertain whether Evyatar would even live long enough to read those words,” Ilay recounted.
Fast forward to today—Evyatar is back home.
Reflecting on his initial plea, Ilay stated, “I was not only fighting for my brother’s life but also trying to keep myself together. For nearly two years, I roamed wherever I thought help might exist. I spoke on TV, in public forums, even in Congress and at the White House.
“I needed people—politicians, diplomats, journalists—to see Evyatar as more than just a statistic or a photo on a poster. He’s my little brother. He loves music, brings joy to others, and has so much life ahead of him.”
When Hamas released that distressing video, Ilay caught his first real glimpse of what his brother had endured in captivity.
“I had envisioned a lot—hunger, fear, despair—but nothing prepared me for that image of his frail body. I stared at his face, searching for the brother I remembered within the person they had starved. His eyes still shone with life, but the rest of him seemed to be fading away.”
Evyatar later shared with a news outlet that while in captivity, Hamas forced him and another hostage, Guy Gilboa-Dalal, to undress, then chose Evyatar for the video because he looked worse.
“As they took me to the filming spot, I passed a room filled with the scent of tea and cake. My captors were enjoying a meal while I, starving, walked by. I couldn’t help but feel like a mere skeleton beside men who had deemed me unworthy of food.”
He was led into a narrow tunnel, handed a shovel, and instructed to dig. “With barely any strength left, every movement felt like it could knock me out. But I kept digging because there was a gunman watching my every move.”
Ilay described the anguish of witnessing his brother’s suffering on that screen. “Instinctively, I wanted to protect him. Instead, I just sat there, unable to help, while he struggled with the shovel. I felt an overwhelming urge to reach out, to take him in my arms and assure him we were still fighting for him.”
However, all he could do was ensure that the world noticed Evyatar’s plight, even as he feared it might already be too late.
Then, on October 13, 2025, Evyatar was freed, and the brothers embraced again.
“After seeing his face on countless posters and screens, having him finally stand in front of me was surreal,” Ilay expressed. “I could touch him, hear his voice. For a long time, I hesitated to truly envision that moment. My little brother was home.”
Ilay understands that two years lost can’t be regained, and the memories of his brother’s trauma will linger.
“I thought bringing Evyatar back would end our nightmare. Now I realize that it’s just the start of the struggle to heal and rebuild our lives. It will be complex and painful, but it will also come with moments we feared we’d never experience again.”
Evyatar reflected on how people sometimes speak to him as if he had returned from the dead. “They mean well, but it’s a strange thing to hear. I was alive every second of my captivity, fighting just like everyone else.”
His family constantly occupied his thoughts. He envisioned their faces, wondered what they were doing, and whether they understood how critical his situation was.
When Evyatar learned about Ilay’s efforts to raise awareness, he was moved. “I had no idea he was traveling the world advocating for me. My captors kept telling me that no one cared, that I was forgotten. It wasn’t until I came home that I realized the extent of my brother’s fight.”
The wounds are still fresh for both brothers. “I’m free now, but the shadows of captivity remain,” Evyatar noted. “Some nights, I close my eyes and find myself back in that tunnel. The man forced to dig is part of me now, but I’m also the person who came back to my family and started dreaming again.”
He’s discovering that recovery is a gradual journey. “It includes dining with my family, laughing, listening to music with my siblings. It’s learning that life was still waiting for me, even when I thought I might never see it again.”
Both brothers recognize that they can’t revert to who they were before October 7. “What happened will always echo in our lives,” Ilay says. “But the love that sustained us through it also propels us forward into the future.”
The powerful image of that future took shape during Ilay’s wedding on August 6. Evyatar, who had once dug his own grave, stood beside his brother, guitar in hand, as he escorted him to his wedding. They celebrated a new chapter surrounded by family, friends, and joy.
This is the memory the brothers want to share—a testament not to the grave Evyatar was made to dig, but to the life Hamas didn’t manage to take from him. Not two brothers separated by turmoil, but two brothers moving onward together.
