By: Nomi Kaltmann as seen in ABC Australia
6 March 2026
Earlier this week was the Jewish festival of Purim. Ordinarily, my kids wait for Purim all year. It commemorates the biblical Book of Esther, retelling the story of how the Persian empire sought to destroy the Jewish people and the way Queen Esther, through a careful mix of courage and timing, managed to save them.
On Purim we dress up, send food parcels to friends and give money to the poor. We go to carnivals and megillah readings. Almost every synagogue hosts a massive children’s party.
Yet this year, it being the first Jewish festival since the Chanukah massacre at Bondi Beach, Purim had a surreal feel to it.
At my children’s Jewish school, so many people dressed up as bees. Small bees, tall bees, baby bees, adult bees, bees of all sizes and ages. At first, I assumed it was one of those yearly costume trends that sweeps through like a craze — but then it clicked. They were all dressed as bees in honour of Matilda Bee, the ten-year-old girl who was killed at Bondi.
It is hard to describe what it felt like to realise my community was paying honour to a little girl who no doubt would have embraced the festival of Purim, and who would have loved to have been there celebrating with her family. It was a tender moment.
On the other hand, the realisation that my community needed to commemorate dead children who were murdered for being Jewish in Australia is devastating. It is our happiest festival, and yet we must memorialise a slain child through our costumes. I had a lump in my throat for much of the day.
My older two kids, who are six and eight years old, had been begging me to take them to Purim parties. Our local synagogue hired Luna Park and put on an enormous carnival with rides, face painting, a petting zoo and food trucks. In previous years tickets disappeared within days — you had to be organised, to get them before they sold out. This year the number of attendees, although respectable, was about half the usual turn out. Some synagogues even cancelled their Purim parties altogether, or else combined them because of low attendance.
No one has issued a formal statement saying that attendance dropped at children’s Purim parties because people are frightened. But everyone knows the reason people chose to stay home. Parents do not want to take their children to a public Jewish event and feel at risk. They do not want to explain why armed police are standing near the fairy floss machine, at a celebration that is supposed to be light-hearted and fun for kids.
At Luna Park, Victoria Police were extraordinary. They were present in droves, and I am grateful they came. Still, it was disconcerting walking into a fun-park flanked by officers.
My six-year-old asked why there were so many police. My eight-year-old asked me if we would be safe at the party. A friend told me that her ten-year-old, before leaving the house to come to Luna Park, asked if he might be killed at the party.
A very particular kind of heartbreak is involved in answering these questions in Australia in 2026.
I do not think people quite grasp how shaken the Jewish community in Australia is. We do not control geopolitics. We are not directing any military strategy. Most of us are just trying to get to school on time and remember what day the kids have to wear sports uniform. Many of us are children and grandchildren of Holocaust survivors. The idea that we, too, can be at risk at our Jewish celebrations puts a chill in our hearts.
I have never wanted to live anywhere other than here. I love Australia and I believe most Australians are decent and fair minded. I still believe that. But what does it say when thousands of Jews opted out of bringing their children to the most joyful day on our calendar because they did not feel safe?
Nomi Kaltmann is an Australian journalist and lawyer. She is a proud member of Melbourne’s Jewish community.