Shlomo “Shlomi” Eliyahu Alsheikh, 28, from Bnei Brak, was murdered by Hamas terrorists at the Supernova music festival on October 7.
Friends said that he had only just arrived at the festival near Kibbutz Re’im, and not even picked up his concert bracelet yet, when the rocket fire began. All contact was cut off around 7:45 a.m., and he was never heard from again. Five days later, his body was found and his family was informed of his death.
He is survived by his parents and his younger siblings. He was buried on October 13 in Petah Tikva.
He grew up in a Haredi family in Bnei Brak, but as a teenager started to explore and move away from strict observance. He was living in nearby Petah Tikva when he was killed.
Yaakov Ovadia wrote on Facebook that he viewed Alsheikh “as a son. We were like a family to you. You are our true prince, one who only loved to help others. A huge loss — we love you so much with all our hearts, may your memory be a blessing, you will be in our hearts forever.”
He added: “It is so hard for me to think that I won’t see you anymore, and my tears won’t stop… You were a special and beloved boy who knew how to love.”
Hezi Gohari wrote online that Alsheikh was “the person with the most enormous heart that I ever met, always happy, always smiling, always joyous, always ready to help even when not asked — that just shows your huge soul.”
His relative, Ortal Shirin, wrote on Facebook that she spent days waiting and hoping “that you would suddenly show up and say that you walked here. That would be just like you.”
“It doesn’t matter when or how tired you were, you would always help, you always had a smile,” Shirin continued. “You were loved by everyone, you embraced everyone, my daughters loved you so much and called you Uncle Shlomi. I want to believe that you gave your life because you were helping someone else — because that was you! Helping with everything. Watch over us from above, our beloved.”
A month after his death, Shirin noted that 30 days had passed “during which we still cannot comprehend, we work, continue in life because we have to return to routine — but we can’t come to terms. In every quiet moment, my thoughts turn to what you went through, who was with you, where you were and when they found you. We will love you forever, my dear brother.”Source: The Times of Israel