As this is a sensitive topic, I’d rather start with framing it.

I will focus on physical civilian defense and the realities of living in a high-risk area. I will not explain the history of the region or try to justify one or the other side of the conflict. The civilians who live in this place during an attack do not care which international law was broken by the repeated attacks, whether the attack was justified, or even who fired the rockets. They are concerned about how to stay alive.

In the Western part of the Negev desert, there is a small city named Sderot with a population of around 37 000 people. It lies at the closest point just over 1km away from the Gaza Strip’s border. Due to its proximity, terrorist organizations that rule Gaza often target Sderot with rockets, mortars, and other explosive fires. What’s more, residents of Sderot have only 15 seconds to seek shelter from the moment they hear Israel’s early-warning system’s Tzeva Adom (lit., Red Color or Code Red) alert. After these 15 seconds, the threat is intercepted or, in the worst-case scenario, makes an impact.

And this has been going on for at least twenty years…

Here is a clip that demonstrates life in Sderot (warning - loud Tzeva Adom alert):

Normal until it is not

I arrived in Sderot on an early morning train. Nothing felt out of the ordinary, a completely normal journey given the not-so-normal city. But things changed the moment I stepped out of the train.

Let’s start with the train station. I think “Amir Mann-Ami Shinar Architects & Planners”, the firm that designed the building, said it best:

This unique train station was designed to meet the impossible challenge of creating not just a modern train station, but also a community bomb shelter, protecting commuters from frequent bombing.

Indeed, if you pay attention, you can notice 50-centimeter (20 inches) thick reinforced concrete walls and ceilings. I walked through the entire station and noticed that there were no windows, except for the station’s entrance, and if there were openings, they were covered with metal bars. It didn’t feel like a bunker from WWII, it felt like a modern train station with maybe some peculiarities. In fact, I quite quickly forgot that the whole thing is a freaking bomb shelter. Splendid job, architects!

Once I left the train station, the surrounding area once again looked completely normal - a parking space nearby, a mall over the road, a bus stop with two bomb shelters next to it… Yeah, not so normal again.

Apparently, in the populated areas near Gaza, namely the Gaza Envelope, it is common practice to put portable bomb shelters (megunit) right next to the bus stops. This is done exactly because of the short time to seek a safe space during the alarm.

City center

Next, I moved to the city center. I wanted to see how the place recovered from the 7th of October 2023 attacks, especially after the infamous Sderot Police Station Battle (viewer’s discretion is advised: here you can see minute-by-minute how the events unfolded with witness recordings). I expected destruction, misery, the worst of the worst, and yet I did not see any of those. Sderot has moved on - in the police station’s place, they built a stunning memorial, painted a commemorative mural, and wrote the stories of survivors and those who fell. The surrounding restaurants were open and full of people, parents walking with kids in strollers, and life continued.

Somewhere deep down, I thought that the city would never recover. How wrong I was… A truly spectacular example of resilience.

A compass feeling

Due to Sderot’s unique location, everything is made in such a way that everything that is facing West, i.e., the Gaza Strip, must be reinforced due to a potential attack. While walking around the city, I could not get rid of the feeling of being a compass. Just like with a regular compass, you always know where the North is; in Sderot, you always know where West is, and you are constantly on high alert for the next alarm.

If you pay attention, you can notice that all new houses’ West-facing walls are reinforced to make room for a mamad (in-apartment bomb shelter), but some older houses have small or simply no openings towards the West.

Kids

Probably at some point of reading this, you asked yourself: “Who would even raise children in such a place?” If the parents have an option to live anywhere outside of this high-risk area, why would they choose to live here? If they know that 75% children have PTSD-like symptoms, why would they be brought to such realities? Why would anyone even consider moving to such a place, especially after the atrocious attacks of the 7th of October?

While eating lunch and talking about life in Sderot with one of the army-age residents (let’s call her J), I learned that for her, Sderot is much more than a city full of bomb shelters. Despite all of the dangers, J said:

I like Sderot way more than the center [Tel Aviv metropolitan area], where I used to live. The nature here is great, and I feel more connected to the community. People are kinder and warmer.

J’s thoughts echoed a sentiment I had heard from others as well: living in Sderot is not only about surviving, but also about belonging. Still, the question remains—why do people choose to stay in a place so often under threat? I do not have a single all-encompassing answer. As with most things in the Middle East, it’s complicated. My best guess is that many people stay because they have their family there for generations. Others believe they are doing a national favor by being on the frontlines to protect the country in case of an attack and populating the desert. Others argue that the cost of living is significantly lower than in metropolitan areas of Israel, and Sderot residents have to pay way less income tax (residents of Israel’s periphery have tax levies).

The answer varies, but no matter what, you can clearly see that Sderot is adapting to these needs. There are plenty of resilience centers, such as WIZO that teach adults and children how to cope with stress. The city is designed so that people feel protected at all times and can live a “normal life”. My personal favorite adaptation for this reality is the children’s parks.

The first rocket-proof playground was built in 2009, and it was fully indoors. That was 8 years after the frequent bombing of Sderot had started, and even before Iron Dome was created. Until then, families were scared for their children to play outdoors. It was one of the first adaptations to the new realities. It feels awkward and out of place, but it worked - families finally had peace of mind for their children, even if it was under a steel roof. It was the first such type of building with multiple bomb shelters and the Tzeva Adom alert system, so everyone can reach a safe space at any point.

But Sderot has improved, and thanks to the Iron Dome, rockets are not that big of a threat anymore. Most of them get intercepted, and the biggest fear nowadays is the rocket shrapnel rather than direct impact. This allowed for making children’s parks more (for the lack of a better word) casual.

The future of the city

This is a unique place to say the least. Sderot started from a small temporary settlement in the 1950s and has survived through multiple wars, and the last 20+ years have been under constant threat. I truly doubt that this city is going to disappear any time soon. Going around it, I saw construction cranes building massive houses and new neighborhoods, new education facilities, and families building businesses. Taking a look at statistics, my assumption was correct - the city continues to grow.

Many entrepreneurs are now looking at Sderot as a potential innovation hub, and others are thinking about how to utilize decades of resilience to teach international first-responders and share the knowledge with the world.

Will Sderot ever become a city without alarms and to have reinforced… well… everything? I can’t say for sure. As much as I would like to see Gaza and Sderot living peacefully, side by side, it is not that simple. But what is certain is that this city refuses to be defined only by what threatens it. Instead, it is shaping its identity around resilience, creativity, and the determination to live a normal life in abnormal circumstances.

Thank you, Sderot, for this visit. I will surely come again!