129 days stretched the imagination for Fernando Marmán and Norberto Luis Har, two men held far from home, yet astonishingly near the places they once called familiar. The two hostages were released by Israeli forces in the early hours of Monday, just a dozen kilometers from the spot where they and other relatives were abducted on October 7. Argentinians by birth and football fans at heart, their shared passion became a quiet lifeline during a long, sunless stretch in captivity. The football fever that unites Latin Americans and Arabs offered them a thread of normalcy amid the surreal, troubling days inside a Palestinian home, where their time in confinement became a story they insist they will someday tell their grandchildren about.
When Israeli special forces moved into the apartment where Marmán and Har had lived for weeks, the two men, aged 60 and 70 respectively, woke to a reality they had not anticipated. They realized they were in Israeli custody and believed their days could end in danger. The family conveyed to Israeli media outlet Yedioth Ahronoth that the men had feared for their lives as they slept, not knowing that the next bed would be theirs to occupy. Relatives describe their release as a complete surprise, a moment of relief that arrived in the stillness of the predawn hours. But February 12 was not the first time some of their fears resurfaced; earlier nights had carried the weight of the possibility that the next chapter could be their last. Their brothers-in-law feared death and injury amid ongoing bombardment, a fear shared by a young girl from Har’s side who spoke of the shock still felt in the family environment.
Reunion brought tears, laughter, and a reconnection that felt almost miraculous. Marmán, who lost substantial weight and appeared pale, spoke plainly about captivity described as marked by difficult conditions. Yet both men recalled that they were never shot, a detail they say offered a degree of safety amid the earlier weeks of fear. They were moved from one location to another in the months that followed, including an eventual transfer to Rafah, a southern hub near Gaza. They were joined by three relatives who were released later, near the end of November. Life at a family home in Rafah was modest and familiar; pita bread and white cheese became a routine, meals shared with the people who protected them. Like many Gazans, they experienced hunger and hardship; during some moments they cooked meals for those who sheltered them and, in quiet moments, they learned about their captors’ lives through simple questions about football.
Throughout the 129 days of captivity, news was something they could only glimpse through a narrow lens. They were allowed to watch news broadcasts only once, through a brief glimpse of Al Jazeera. Despite the isolation, they kept track of the calendar in their own way. Har, who remembers the birthdays of his four children and ten grandchildren, carried a sturdy thread of optimism with him, though the weight of fear never fully left him. A family member described the period as one of heavy waiting, during which the sense that progress toward release was limited lingered in the air. Maya Segal-Koren, a recently retired accountant, looks toward his own upcoming 71st birthday with the expectation of being surrounded by loved ones again. Clara Marmán, a sister to Marmán and Har’s partner for many years, stands among the relatives who endured the ordeal together. Also present in the story are Gabriela Leimberg, her daughter Mia Leimberg, and a 17-year-old dog named Bella, all of whom were part of the larger family group taken during the original kidnapping from Kibbutz Nir Yitzhak and later separated as some relatives were released. They were freed on November 28, finalizing a painful separation of a tightly knit family circle.
After their release, Clara and the others spoke softly of the relief they felt, and the long journey home began to take shape. The moment of reunion was filled with hugs and quiet promises of better days ahead. Among the conversations shared in the first hours together were plans for a future Argentinian barbecue, a symbol of life returning to normalcy after so many months apart. Both the former hostages and their families looked at each other with disbelief, a shared sense that shock still lingered in their eyes after days of uncertainty. With 129 days behind them, they faced the task of rebuilding a life that had been interrupted and reshaped by captivity, and they carried with them the memory of a period when the end of the story did not seem guaranteed. They still have many details to reveal about the nights that stretched on for 128 more chances to lose hope, and the community around them waits to hear every part of their experience, with many questions answered in time, and many more yet to be told. (attribution: reporting from Yedioth Ahronoth)”