Sydney absorbs the shock of the Chanukah attack

As the dust begins to settle after the deadly Bondi Beach terrorist attack on Sunday, 14 December that shattered a community Chanukah celebration, Jews in Australia are trying to absorb the horror of what really happened in Sydney. 

Police have identified the two men responsible for the mass shooting at the Chanukah By The Sea event near Bondi Beach as 50-year-old Sajid Akram and his 24-year-old son, Naveed Akram. The father and son opened fire on crowds celebrating the first night of Chanukah, killing at least 15 people and injuring dozens more. 

On that fateful night, the first night of Chanukah, South African-born Lisa Kilov was volunteering at a large community celebration at Dudley Page Reserve in Sydney’s eastern suburbs. The event, organised by Dover Heights Shul, took place about three kilometres from Bondi Beach. 

Dudley Page Reserve sits on a hill with a panoramic view of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. On Sunday evening, it was filled with families, music, and activity. 

Around 2 000 people attended, drawn by children’s rides, live performances, food stalls, giveaways, and the lighting of a giant menorah overlooking the ocean. “It was a particularly hot, balmy day in Sydney,” Kilov said. “It was also the first night of Chanukah, a festival of light and joy.” 

As a volunteer, she arrived early, put on her T-shirt reading “Happy Chanukah”, received her instructions, and took her place behind a trestle table selling ride tickets and raffle entries. She recognised many of the people passing by, greeting families, fastening wristbands onto children’s arms, and wishing everyone a happy evening. 

“At one point, I took a short video of the crowd, young families smiling, children laughing, the atmosphere vibrant and joyful,” she said. She sent it to her family WhatsApp group with the caption: “Having the best time.” However, everything changed just before 19:00. 

Members of the Community Security Group moved quickly through the reserve, instructing people to move forward and lie down. At the time, Kilov had no idea why. She described feeling “utterly exposed and vulnerable in the wide-open field filled with people”. 

“My mind raced uncontrollably,” she said. “I thought of the Nova music festival, of people running in terror, trying to escape the unthinkable.” There was no shelter and nowhere to hide. Panic spread rapidly. Kilov began moving briskly towards the far end of the reserve as chaos erupted around her. 

Women clutched children, children screamed, prams tipped over, and scooters and bikes were abandoned. People lifted steel barricades and ran down the hill towards the street below. “I followed, not knowing whether danger lay behind us or ahead,” she said. 

At the bottom of the hill, she knocked frantically on the doors of nearby houses, hoping someone would offer refuge. No-one answered. She ran further until she spotted a friend heading to her son’s apartment. Inside, young families and an elderly grandfather sat together, shaken and terrified. At that stage, none of them knew what had triggered the evacuation. Only when they checked their phones did they begin to understand that a mass shooting had taken place at Bondi Beach, a separate Chanukah event taking place along the shoreline. 

Later that night, Kilov returned to Dudley Page Reserve to collect her jacket and car keys. The scene was haunting. The once-crowded field was empty and eerily silent, strewn with abandoned prams, children’s scooters and bikes, uneaten food, and scattered doughnuts. A jar of raffle tickets lay overturned on the grass. Tiny shoes and caps were scattered across the ground. “The trauma of that night did not end there,” she said. “It deepened the following day, and it will linger for a long time to come.” 

Tessa Gnesin had been at the Chanukah By The Sea event at Bondi Beach where the attack occurred, which was a few kilometres away. An ex-South African who has lived in Australia for 30 years, she described her experience as “utterly gut-wrenching”. 

She had gone with her husband and planned to meet her son and two grandsons there. They parked near the bridge from which the attackers later opened fire. Days after the attack, she still did not have her car back as the area remained under investigation. 

Gnesin and her husband crossed the bridge into the park where the event was taking place. It was an enclosed area, and attendees were required to register. Security recognised her husband from shul and allowed them in. While there, her son called as he was parking, asking if there was food for his children. She told him she could see doughnuts being served. 

“While I was talking to him, I heard what I thought were fireworks,” she said. “Later, I realised they were gunshots.” She and her husband lay on the ground in the tented food area, sheltering under the counters. Gnesin recalled seeing a grandmother shielding what looked like a six- to eight-week-old baby from the gunfire. “The woman made no sound and remained calm,” she said. 

She was close to the gunfire but said the fabric of the tent shielded her from seeing anyone being shot. At one point, her husband looked up and saw dead bodies around them. She felt the ground move near her, believing it had been struck by bullets. “It seemed to go on for longer than it did,” she said. “It was very loud and then super quiet.” 

After the gunfire stopped, a man came into the food area and told them to get out. He carried Gnesin out and took her to safety. As they left, they saw bodies wrapped in tarpaulin. “I am grateful my son called us asking if there was food for his children,” she said. “That led to us being safe in a closed space. If not, we would have been out in the open and who knows what would have happened to us.” 

Too traumatised to watch the news, Gnesin avoided coverage for two days. Reflecting on the aftermath, she spoke of bravery and loss. “There were incredible displays of bravery that day. We lost some beautiful souls,” she said. “Australian Jewry is made up of Jews from every corner of the globe and we are one.” 

Among those killed was Rabbi Eli Schlanger. Rabbi Levi Avtzon, rabbi of Linksfield Shul in Johannesburg, knew Schlanger from their student years, remembered him as vibrant and full of life. “He was a classmate,” Avtzon said. “He was born in England and then moved to New York where I was living at the time as a student. He joined our grade for a few years and we kept in touch.” 

They met annually at a reunion each November. “He was always vibrant,” Avtzon said. “You see all the videos about him, he was just a smiler, an activist, busy getting on with it, great attitude, just a great, great guy.” 

As Sydney mourns, the impact of the attack continues to reverberate far beyond Bondi Beach. For those at other Chanukah gatherings across the city, the fear travelled quickly, collapsing the distance between separate events and separate neighbourhoods. 

Bondi Beach, a place long associated with openness and freedom, is now bound to a moment of violence. For Sydney’s Jewish community, the process of absorbing what happened continues, shaped by grief, shock, and the determination to remain united.