A Mother's Account: Surviving the Bondi Hanukah Terror Attack
Surviving Bondi Terror Attack: A Mother's Account

A Mother's Harrowing Experience During the Bondi Terror Attack

On what should have been a joyous celebration of Hanukah, families gathered at Bondi Beach for a community event that turned into a scene of unimaginable horror. Jessica Rozen, an economist and writer based in Sydney, shares her deeply personal account of surviving the terror attack that unfolded during the festival of lights.

The Festival That Became a Nightmare

Hanukah, known as the festival of light, represents a minor but cherished holiday in the Jewish calendar. Characterised by candles, songs, and doughnuts rather than elaborate religious ceremonies, it typically brings communities together for celebration. In Sydney, Jewish events often maintain discreet locations as a security precaution, with exact details shared only with registered attendees on the day itself.

Jessica attended the Bondi event with her family - her mother, husband, three-year-old son, and one-and-a-half-year-old daughter. The atmosphere initially mirrored typical family gatherings: children playing with bubbles, visiting petting zoos, enjoying hotdogs, and sharing doughnuts. Photographer Peter Meagher captured family moments, promising fridge magnets within thirty minutes.

The Moment Everything Changed

While searching for her son and mother-in-law, Jessica heard what she initially dismissed as loud bangs. Having never heard gunfire before, she continued her search until witnessing someone fall to the ground, followed by screams and blood. The cheerful Hanukah music continued playing, creating a surreal, distorted backdrop to the unfolding violence.

Seeing her husband running with their daughter provided momentary relief, but Jessica still couldn't locate her son. In the chaos, she noticed a terrified little girl screaming for her parents in an open space. Without hesitation, Jessica ran to the child, grabbed her, and sought cover behind chairs, lying on the grass to shield the girl with her own body.

Six Minutes That Felt Like Forever

During what lasted less than six minutes but felt eternal, Jessica witnessed unimaginable scenes. She observed two attackers - one on a footbridge firing a gun, another pacing calmly outside the fence. A woman lying nearby became a victim before her eyes, with Jessica seeing brain matter scattered through the grass.

Blood dripped from Jessica's shoulder onto the little girl she protected. With blood on her glasses and phone, she took a selfie to assess her injuries, discovering small pieces of brain in her hair. Text exchanges with her husband during this period were uncharacteristically brief and contained spelling errors, reflecting the extreme stress of the situation.

Acts of Courage and Community

The little girl's father, Wayne, eventually approached to reclaim his daughter. His gratitude and acknowledgment that Jessica saved his child's life provided a moment of human connection amidst the terror. Other individuals, including two shirtless men from the beach, offered assistance to help Jessica escape the area.

Reuniting with her family brought overwhelming relief, though Jessica required medical attention for various injuries including a deep gash in her nose and slash on her shoulder. At the hospital, nurse Connor provided gentle care, helping clean wounds and allowing Jessica to shower - removing brain matter from her hair.

The Aftermath and Reflection

In the days following the attack, Jessica met three-year-old Gigi's parents, learning the child she protected was recovering well. Despite being called a hero by many, Jessica rejects this label, insisting she simply acted as any parent would. She acknowledges the true heroes: her husband who saved their daughter, her mother-in-law who protected their son, and all those who helped others during the attack.

Jessica particularly honours the group of men who barricaded women and children in the surf club, along with emergency responders, medical staff, and community security groups. She reflects on her family's core values - teaching children to be gentle, kind, and listening - expressing her desire to live in a world where these principles prevail.

The experience has left Jessica grappling with fundamental questions about safety and protection. As a parent who taught her son that "our number one job is to keep you safe," she now struggles with how to navigate a world where keeping children safe can feel impossible. Her account stands as a powerful testament to human resilience, community solidarity, and the complex emotional landscape survivors navigate long after headlines fade.