'She misses him. She still cries. She is very sad and quiet:' Heartache of wife ... trends now
For Shlomo Mantzur's 86th birthday on March 17, his family celebrated with his favourite ice cream: pistachio.
They laugh as they talk about his sweet tooth. He also likes halva (a dessert made from ground sesame seeds, tahini and sugar) and silan (date syrup).
All the children from his kibbutz were invited, writing messages for him on hearts, which they hung on a specially carved wooden tree.
'We also went to an ice cream factory and made pistachio ice cream in his honour,' his 22-year-old granddaughter Yuval tells me. 'We hope the next time it will be with him.'
The guest of honour was missing at his own birthday party. The grandfather of 12 was taken captive by Hamas terrorists who broke into his home in Kibbutz Kissufim on October 7 last year.
Shlomo Mantzur with his wife Mazal who hasn't seen her husband since he was kidnapped by Hamas on October 7
Shlomo with Mazal and his daughter Batya. The family this year celebrated his 86th birthday without him
On that morning, eight residents and six Thai labourers were murdered, and four people were abducted and taken to Gaza, just 5km away. Shlomo is the oldest hostage.
'He was kidnapped without his hearing aid, we worry he can't hear anything,' says Yuval. 'He only weighs 57kg, he's small and skinny. We always laughed that I weigh more than him.'
I meet Shlomo's granddaughter Yuval and her mother Batya, 56, at the headquarters of the Hostage and Missing Families Forum (formed by the families of the abductees) in Tel Aviv, just minutes from Hostage Square – a public plaza in front of the Museum of Art, close to the head office of the Israel Defense Force.
Since the October attack, this has been the site of rallies and protests during the Israel-Hamas war calling for the release of the hostages.
Among the installations is a 25-metre mock Hamas tunnel, which simulates a claustrophobic, dimly lit passage through which people can walk.
Etched on the walls are names of the hostages, and heartfelt messages from families and well-wishers. There is also a 200-seat dinner table set for Shabbat for those who were abducted.
The people I speak to are on a roller-coaster of trauma, rage and grief.
For most of his life, Shlomo has lived in Kissufim, a kibbutz with a population of 300 which relies mainly on dairy production and poultry farming.
He manages the kibbutz chicken coop and is the handyman who loved fixing things– whether watches, jewellery, or putting up shelves.
The poster of Shlomo calling to 'bring him home now'. The grandfather of 12 is one of the eldest captives being held by the terrorist group
Shlomo and wife Mazal pictured here on their wedding day in 1964. The couple's 60th anniversary was on March 1 but Mazal couldn't bring herself to celebrate the occasion
'He's the best grandfather,' Yuval smiles. 'I always tell him my secrets and he gives me good advice – like on boys! Whenever I have an argument with mum he would say to me, 'Take it easy, help her'.'
Batya adds: 'He had the biggest heart ever, and a great smile. Anything you ask for he's there for you.'
Like all Israelis on October 7, Yuval's family received a red alert code on their phones at 6.30am to say there a terrorist attack was underway. Yuval immediately called her grandparents to find out what was going on.
'I told them to stay in the [safe room], and that I loved them,' she says. 'He was just so casual about it. He said everything is going to be okay. He didn't want us to be worried.'
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