Former military spokesman for the Qassam Brigades, Huthaifa al-Kahlout - Abu Obaida
Abu Obaida's sister speaks to Roya News
Note: AI technology was used to generate this article’s audio.
- Abu Obaida’s sister provides insights into his private life, revealing his family role and personal habits.
- Interview highlights his responsibilities at home, daily routines, and priorities beyond public duties.
Roya News interviewed Sundus Al-Kahlout, sister of Abu Obaida, offering an account of his life away from public attention. She described him as a calm, responsible man who actively cared for his family while fulfilling his public role.
Sundus explained that the voice heard in public statements is exactly the same voice she hears in private. To her, neither family ties nor the powerful symbolism attached to the figure change it. The sound that reaches millions reaches her in the same way. She does not separate between “my brother” and “the Qassam spokesperson” because the voice is one, but the person behind it is very different from how the public imagines him.
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Behind the mask
Behind the keffiyeh and military statements known to the world, Abu Obaida lived a life far removed from the rigid image associated with him, according to his sister. She says he was not performing a role at home, but living as a calm, ordinary human being. He was a father in his house, a brother among his siblings, and a gentle, compassionate husband.
She explains that she watched him on television just like everyone else, without any special access or prior knowledge of what he would say. Away from the public persona, she describes him as exceptionally patient and wise, rarely angered unless the situation demanded firmness. In daily life, she says, he was quiet beyond expectation, someone who weighed his words carefully and never let emotion precede reason.
Simple joys away from the spotlight
Even in the smallest details, Abu Obaida found comfort in ordinary life, his sister added. His favorite drink was coffee, which never left his side. He especially enjoyed traditional dishes such as maftoul and stuffed grape leaves, foods that carried the taste of home and memories, grounding him in normal life far from public imagery and official speeches.
Calm and patience behind the hard image
His sister says that away from weapons and responsibility, his personality was full of warmth. He was present in household details, supportive of his family, and keen to ensure that his wife did not feel confined or cut off from life. He made a point of taking her and their children out and encouraged her to continue building her media and journalism career. Despite the abnormal nature of his life, he encouraged learning and personal growth.
She acknowledges that his work imposed restrictions on visits and social interaction. Still, whenever possible, he visited his family, sharing their joys and sorrows, returning to them simply as one of them. Even brief visits, she says, left a lasting impact, and his words carried weight long after he left.
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A responsible man in every sense
Asked to describe him in one word, she chose the word “responsible.”
She says he was responsible in his home, attentive to his wife and children, and mindful of even the smallest details. She recalls a moment she never forgot. During his wife’s postpartum period, when she was exhausted, he cooked for her himself, staying by her side and easing her burden. He also devoted time to teaching his children and helping them with their schoolwork. Three of his four children had memorized the Holy Quran and were following the path he hoped for them before they were martyred.
His treatment, she says, was “more than ideal,” an example to be followed.
She recalled family moments filled with laughter and warmth, including a single barbecue trip they shared as a family, without barriers or secrets. The moments were brief, but deeply etched in her memory.
A national dream, interrupted studies
She says her brother’s greatest dream was not personal but national: to see the occupation end, to witness liberation, and to open the doors of Al Aqsa Mosque.
Alongside this, he completed a master’s degree in Islamic creed (Aqidah) in 2013 and enrolled in a doctoral program, but events in Gaza and Palestine prevented him from completing his studies.
The brother she knew
His sister describes him as a devoted brother and a good man. What hurt her most, she says, was his inability to behave like an ordinary brother because of the nature of his work. He often spoke of how constant concealment, both as a spokesperson and as a person, deeply affected his social relationships. His calls and visits were limited, but they were enough to leave a lasting mark. Even fleeting appearances, she says, filled the space.
She notes that he stood by her in personal moments she prefers to keep private, saying only that his loss is immense and praying that they will reunite in paradise.
At home, she adds, he was even warmer than the calm image known publicly. He joked, laughed, played with his children and his siblings’ children, and joined family outings, playing football and sharing moments of joy as if reclaiming his full humanity away from the weight of responsibility.
Tenderness and firmness when needed
She describes him as deeply gentle, recalling firmness only when it came to protecting her or safeguarding a sibling’s interests. He never imposed his opinions or interfered in others’ affairs. They were raised in a household that respected freedom of choice, a principle she says never led them astray.
To her, he was a true source of security. In difficult moments, his reassurance was simple but powerful: “You are my sister, and I am here for you whatever you need.”
She adds that discretion defined him. He was exceptionally secretive, while family gatherings were always filled with advice, especially avoiding speaking ill of others.
Absence during war
During the war, she did not see him for a long time. From October 7, 2023, until late February 2025, there were no gatherings.
At times, the family believed he had been killed, until he appeared in a speech confirming he was still alive. She says many answers about that period are found in his statements more than in her personal memory.
A mother’s place
When speaking of their mother, her voice softens. She describes Abu Obaida, whose given name was Huthaifa, as deeply tender by nature. Their mother loved him greatly and, she says, was fully satisfied with him.
He was keen on earning her approval, checking on her constantly, even at the height of the war, through means dictated by secrecy.
Whenever an opportunity arose, he sought to make her happy, whether through a gift or any form of support. It was not a duty he fulfilled, she says, but an inner need he never abandoned.



