A regular Sunday yoga ritual, known affectionately as ‘church’, was shattered by the sound of gunfire and screams, plunging one woman and a disparate group of strangers into a terrifying lockdown during the Bondi terror attack.
From Sunday Ritual to Nightmare Lockdown
Nadine J Cohen had just finished a double yoga session opposite Bondi Pavilion, preparing to walk to her sister's house to celebrate the first night of Hanukah. Within moments, the peaceful evening erupted into chaos as a barrage of bangs echoed and people began screaming about a shooter. Fleeing back towards the studio, she fell in the courtyard before being helped up by a woman with an American accent, who repeatedly uttered, "This doesn’t happen here."
Inside the yoga studio, a scene of collective fear unfolded. The group, cut off from phone reception, included yoga classmates, a mother with teenagers, four food delivery drivers, and a young father whose wife was trapped in a supermarket below. They took turns huddling in the single corner where a faint mobile signal allowed frantic calls to loved ones. For Cohen, the terror crystallised upon learning her 15-year-old niece was missing at the beach, unable to leave the locked-down building to search for her.
Community in Crisis and a Glimmer of Hope
After hours trapped inside, punctuated by the relentless sound of sirens, two pieces of news filtered through. Her niece and friends were found safe, having fled the water and taken shelter in a cafe. The devastating counterpoint was the confirmation that her wider community was under attack. In the locked studio, fears surfaced that Jews might be specifically targeted, given Bondi's significant Jewish population and the timing of Hanukah.
Eventually reunited at her sister’s home, the family lit Hanukah candles hours late, sharing a meal as news arrived of the mounting casualties and heroes like Ahmed al-Ahmed, who disarmed one attacker. The author reflects on the confirmed deaths of 15 victims, including a child, a Holocaust survivor, and two rabbis, noting a painful community awareness that such violence felt historically inevitable, despite previous warnings being dismissed.
The Long Road to Healing Begins
In the aftermath, Cohen visited the massacre site, now covered in flowers, mere metres from her yoga sanctuary. She underscores that the trauma inflicted will require a long and difficult healing process for all affected, from survivors and first responders to the entire community. Yet, within the ancient Hanukah story of survival against hatred, she chooses to cling to a symbol of hope: the miracle of light lasting against the odds.
Grateful for her family's safety and the refuge of her ‘church’, the account concludes with a poignant mix of traditional blessings: "Happy Hanukah, namaste and Amen."
