I was on my way to Gan HaVradim, the rose park in Jerusalem that lies between Israel’s Supreme Court and the Knesset. Unexpectedly, just steps in front of me, was a huge white tent, with a picture of Hymanot Kasau, as well as flags waving in the breeze, flags bearing Hymanot’s visage.
On an angle, slanted, in yellow Hebrew cursive, on the photograph and on the flags, appears a word: Chatufa. Abducted.
Over two-and-a-half years ago when Hymanot disappeared out of the blue, she was nine. Her horrific disappearance was classified and treated as “missing person.”
Today, the family insists reclassifying Hymanot’s status for what the Kasau’s believe is “abducted.” This status, the Kasau’s hope, will elevate the urgency and sophistication invested in the search for their longed for Hymanot.
It’s day 959 since Hymanot tragically went missing from her home campus, an absorption center in Safed.
How can I just pass by without entering? I take a seat. There are maybe two or three others there.
The father, Tasfaye, thanks my friend and me for coming. He says how much he appreciates it. He smiles. He’s so kind. He’s so warm. Banchi, his wife sitting by his side, a colorful scarf tied around her beautifully chiseled face, doesn’t speak. She looks to be on the verge of tears. Their daughter, Hymanot’s older sister, is offering drinks.
Tasfaye turns to Banchi, translating from Hebrew to Ethiopian.
Or so it seemed.
Perhaps he was saying something else to his wife. Or perhaps he was conveying what we expressed.
“Hymanot is in their heart.” “They are praying for a miracle.” “‘May your prayers be answered” — an Ethiopian woman flanking Banchi says to me as she looks me in the eye.
Banchi offers meaningful, deeply sad eye contact.
It wasn’t a shiva tent of mourning, yet it felt like a tent of mourning of a different kind. Mourning the cruel kidnapping of their beloved daughter and sister. Mourning their tormented existence of not knowing where Hymanot is, or what she is G-d forbid enduring. Mourning Hymanot being ripped away from them.
Come tomorrow, the father says, at 5 o’clock, we are protesting.
I’m not much of a protester type personality.
I’ll be there, I say.
I leave and can’t help but feel the sadness blanketing this family.
[dropcap]An Ethiopian family. Part of the Beta Israel community. Each year, 50 days after Yom Kippur, under an array of colorful umbrellas, this community makes a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. It’s their Sigd holiday.
A day dedicated to their longing for Jerusalem that they celebrated in Ethiopia and continue to mark each year here in Israel.
In time, Sigd had also come to commemorate those who were lost, those who were sacrificed during their pilgrimage by foot from Ethiopia through Sudan and all the dangers it involved, on their way to the Jerusalem of their dreams.
The next day, day 960, I return to the tent. Little Hymanot’s huge brown doe eyes peer from so many pictures.
I don’t know if it’s because Hymanot went missing during the post-Oct. 7 Gaza war and the country’s psyche was overwhelmed with the hostage crisis and shakingly reading “hutar l’pirsum” notices of fallen soldiers, and a kind of war fatigue had taken hold.
I don’t know if it’s because Hymanot and her family were relatively new immigrants with a language barrier.
I don’t know if it’s because the police resources up North were already overextended by the war.
I don’t know if it’s because Hymanot hailed from an Ethiopian family.
Whatever the reason, I couldn’t help but feel, this family has been failed.
Of course, just because Hymanot hasn’t yet been found doesn’t necessarily mean Israel has not been doing it’s best to search for her.
Nonetheless, I couldn’t escape the feeling, this family has been let down.
That on some level, Hymanot has been abandoned.
Even now, at the tent for the protest, there ought to have been more people, although, thankfully, it was a very respectable turnout of a diverse crowd.
I think Israelis are just desensitized at this point. They just can’t. Look at the past few years. And look at the news,” a 17-year-old high school girl who came with her sister, tells us.
Someone named Avi Yitzchak, an activist from Ashkelon, begins talking into the dark, his voice heard over the megaphone he is speaking into.
“Thank you for honoring the family with your presence. The family appreciates it! We have come here to demand, not request, but demand, on behalf of Hymanot’s life. Only G-d knows where she is. But we have gathered here to get Hymanot back home! The family thanks you for coming. But it’s not enough! Time to unite and go to battle for ensuring Hymanot’s return home! Only in unity will we succeed.”
Then Tosfaye spoke in Ethiopian, sharing similar sentiments.
But then he called on Shabak, Israel’s security agency, to lead in the investigation for Hymanot.
For a few minutes, Hymanot’s parents, holding red signs that read: “Hymanot, Aba and Ema are doing everything to get you home,” sat in the middle of the road. It was heartbreaking.
As we turned down a quiet street, we heard Avi Yitzchak back on the megaphone.
“Hymanot’s Bat Mitzvah is not far off. She cannot, absolutely cannot, still be abducted by then. Hymanot must be back to celebrate her Bat Mitzvah.”
Two of the colorful scarf clad Ethiopian women walking alongside me were weeping. Overall, there was a justified sense of anger at the government. Especially from those chanting into the megaphone.
Among the people in the group nearby me, though, there was a sense of sadness.
Soaring up above us, were visages of sweet smiling little Hymanot, circa age nine, when she was abducted.
Yes, women in the crowd were walking and tearing up. By contrast, Hymanot, in still-life like photos, in picture after picture high above the crowd, moved along with us, smiling.
The issue of Shabak taking this case on was a repeated motif. It seems, at this point, that this is the family’s primary demand.
Apparently, normally Shabak only deals with national security cases (with the exception of the infamous Yossele kidnapping in the 1960’s). But I do hope Shabak will fully step up to the plate and mobilize all of its resources to return Hymanot to her family.
Honestly, this tragedy could G-d forbid happen to any child. To any family. In that sense, Hymanot is symbolic of every child and all of our children, so we all have an obligation to advocate for her return.
I shudder to think where Hymanot might be. Or what she is enduring.
So little.
And all alone.
I pray Hymanot’s status changes yet again, and immediately.
Only this time, instead of officially classifying Hymanot from missing to abducted, I pray she will be reclassified from abducted, to free and home in the bosom of her loved ones.
© IJN 2026
