“Even if something like this happens again, I don’t think I’ll leave,” Miri Menashe, a cook and army reservist tells The Media Line, while standing outside her house in Metula, just meters from the Lebanese border.
Calm and defiant, her voice contrasts sharply with the empty streets around her. The war may have shifted south, but the sense of uncertainty remains deeply rooted for residents of Israel’s northern frontier.
Since October 7, 2023, when Hamas launched its deadly attack in southern Israel, much of the northern region has stood on edge.
Daily Hezbollah rocket fire has driven thousands from their homes, leaving towns like Metula and Kiryat Shmona eerily quiet. Yet, amid trauma, some residents are returning hesitantly, defiantly, and with heavy questions about what comes next.
“At the moment, there are 240 people here out of 1,100 residents,” Yossi, Metula’s security leader, tells The Media Line. “More than 400 homes were damaged. The army is strong, but people are afraid to return.”
The supermarket is open, but business is sparse. “Everything just gone, just like that,” Lior Fine, a lifelong resident working there as a cashier, tells The Media Line. “People started businesses where they live now. That makes coming back harder.”
Dani Erez oversees the construction of new safe rooms near Margaliot and says the work is ongoing but sometimes feels futile. “Many houses are still empty. People don’t feel safe,” he tells The Media Line. “There’s no nursery, no school, not even enough kids for one.”
Even those helping rebuild feel the tension. An Arab construction worker, who asked to be identified by the initial “M.,” puts it bluntly: “We are afraid. But we need money. We need to live.”
Einat Broner, who evacuated to Jerusalem, returned to Metula before Passover to collect personal belongings. Her home was hit twice by rockets, and the roof was destroyed. “We had a miracle,” she tells The Media Line. “Nothing happened to the stuff we had [in the house].”
Many evacuees, like Broner, were housed in hotels or temporary apartments for months. Others, unable to afford long-term absence from work, relocated their lives entirely.
“The government gave us 12,000 shekels a month to rent in Jerusalem,” Broner says. “That helped. But it’s not like planning a move. You’re forced to leave your home overnight. That does something to your heart.”
Her husband wants to return to the house. She says that despite her emotional attachment to the place, she’s unsure: “What will be, will be.”
That emotional tug is shared across the region. “People we used to see every day are not here anymore,” says Fine. “It’s upsetting, but I understand.”
Menashe, who served in reserve duty and gave her home to the army during the war, remains firm: “We didn’t steal anybody’s land. This is our home. And if we leave, it’s like we’re giving up.”
'We should annex up to the Litani River'
Yet not all returning voices call for caution. Visiting Metula from Karnei Shomron, Yehoshua Socol advocates for something far more radical. “The war will be over as soon as we advance at least to the Litani River,” he tells The Media Line. “That whole area should be annexed to Israel and settled by Jews.”
This stance finds little support among the locals. “I don’t see it like he does,” Menashe replies. “Extending beyond the border would be occupation in my eyes.”
Behind the scenes, massive reconstruction efforts are underway. Neri Shotan, CEO of the Kibbutz Movement Rehabilitation Fund, oversees aid to 41 kibbutzim. “The government estimates the northern damage at 9 billion shekels,” he tells The Media Line. “They’ve only budgeted 2.2 billion shekels so far.”
Shotan doesn’t mince words about political priorities. “If we were from the other side of the political map, things would look different.”
In Manara, 74% of buildings were destroyed by Hezbollah fire. “Philanthropy is dramatic,” Shotan says, citing help from Jewish donors in the US, Canada, and Europe. “But the money is needed now. Not in six months. Now.”
At the Kineret Innovation Center (KIC), CEO Elad Shamir is trying to rebuild the future. After being called to Gaza as a lieutenant colonel, he handed the reins to his team and told them: “Keep creating engines of growth, even through hardship.”
While northern communities were evacuated, KIC converted classrooms into labs, created a school for 600 children, and gave startups and families space to keep working. “Our staff became everything—from teachers to fundraisers to diaper changers,” Shamir tells The Media Line.
Even now, he’s preparing to return to Gaza. But the innovation doesn’t stop. “After a disaster, new forces come. It’s not just about selling a product. It’s about creating a future.”
Still, Shamir acknowledges the challenge. “How do you convince a family with small kids to return after a year and a half away?”
He proposes a three-part approach: “Security, community infrastructure, and job creation. You don’t have to live on the border. You can work 40 minutes away and still support the region.”
Despite tensions with Hezbollah and the continued war in Gaza, Shamir sees a long-term opportunity. “There’s hope and optimism in our people,” he says. “We keep fighting. We keep building.”
Back in Metula, where soldiers still patrol and damage is everywhere, that blend of caution and courage defines the mood. The question remains: Can life return to normal while the threat remains so close? While some believe that Hezbollah must first be eliminated or pushed back, others are learning to live with uncertainty.
“We’re more awake now,” says Menashe. “It won’t be like it was before October 7, but it can be better.”
