Being there – the Eli Kay way

I didn’t know Eli Kay. I know that he worked at the Kotel, that he was 25, that he was carrying a Likutei Sichos when he was brutally murdered this past Sunday. But I do know his sister, Na’ama, the confident and incredible person I’ve been lucky enough to grow close to this year. And as I held her hand this Tuesday at the Kay family’s home in Modi’in, I was confronted with a range of emotions – anger, heartbreak, worry, and love.

We sat in a circle and we talked. Na’ama described Eli as “late to everything”. A few weeks ago, he just made it to their brother, Kasriel’s, ufruf. When his mother chastised him for making them think he’d miss it, he simply responded, “Ma, of course I’d be here.” That’s who Eli was – he would be there.

Na’ama talked about his love for Israel, his passionate Zionism, his strength, and his life journey. We live in the Old City, and thus Na’ama was able to go and visit Eli at work every day. He’d give her advice when she needed it, with banter and laughs guaranteed, and always had time for her. No matter what he was doing or where he was, if Na’ama needed him, he was there. Eli was there.

If he believed in something, he made it happen. He believed in living in Israel, and so he did. He was the first of his family to make aliyah, completing his army service and going to live on a kibbutz in the south.

He believed in working the land, and so he did – he worked for HaShomer HaChadash in the fields and as a project manager.

He believed in talking about the state of Israel, and so he did – he guided at our holiest site, the Kotel, and he taught about Israel’s past and future.

In spite of his immense love for Israel, Eli was connected to his roots in South Africa. In Na’ama’s words, “there was no money in his wallet, but there was R30. He was always connected to South Africa, but his heart was in Israel.”

It’s constantly said that the South African Jewish community is unlike any other, and this is so because of people like Eli. He was a man of action, love, laughter, kindness, and an overwhelming sense of generosity towards both countries, his friends, and his family.

Na’ama is obsessed with her brothers. I’ve only known her a few months, and I struggle to recall a conversation where she hasn’t brought them up. She is so proud of them, their achievements in the army and in life, and looks up to them.

The anger that we all feel towards this horrific act of injustice doesn’t even touch that of Na’ama, Chanan, Kasriel, Devorah, and Avi. I know that Na’ama will never stop talking about her brothers, about Eli, about the person he was.

Eli isn’t a story. He’s not one victim of terror amongst thousands. He’s a son, a brother, a boyfriend, a friend, a soldier, a Jew, a human being, and he should be remembered as such.

To the Kay family: in true Eli fashion, we are here. Jews worldwide are supporting you, sending love, strength and comfort wherever you can find it. May Eliyahu Dovid’s neshama have an aliyah, and may his legacy of kindness, love, and life live on for eternity.

• Dani Sack is on Bnei Akiva’s MTA gap year programme, studying at Midreshet Harova seminary in Jerusalem.