Short Stories

---

Israel His Vision-One.
Igdud Ha’ Ivrit: Turning curses to blessing

Yesterday 16:00hrs:

The 40 foot articulator raced passed me in the opposite direction. I heard the driver shout something. His voice was followed by a resounding crunch as I drove pass the parked vehicle, its front door open onto the busy main road leading to the city of Tema. I managed to park the car on the side of the road. I got out and inspected the damage. My right view mirror was missing and a long white line marked the place where the blue paint had been scraped from the car. Excited voices called out as a crowd began to gather. A short man sweating profusely ran towards me clutching what remained of my damaged mirror. I was visibly upset. My car had barely escaped what could have been a terrible accident.

The driver of the parked van had carelessly left his faulty van door open, whilst searching for a screwdriver. In my attempt to drive around it, I had failed to see the oncoming articulator vehicle, which took up most of the road. We searched for the destroyed mirror along the roadside, but it was nowhere to be found. Finally, I made a search of the car and found pieces of glass lying on the back floor and seats. Two sharp and particularly jagged pieces caught my attention.

‘Thank you Lord that no one was sitting in the front passenger seat,’ I thought. Those pieces of glass could have caused real damage. It took some three hours of endless discussion, before I finally, drove home. The careless driver and his mate were relieved that I had not taken the matter more seriously. The owners of the van indicated their desire to pay all the costs of repair. That night I prayed, asking for the Lord’s direction and guidance, as I planned to replace the mirror.

The following morning, I drove to the ‘Agbloboshie’ spare parts market. As I walked along the main street, a man suddenly called out beckoning with his arm. I headed in his direction.

“What are you looking for?” he asked. I told him, and he then asked another man to take my damaged car part and look for a replacement. I casually asked for the price of a new mirror. The answer far exceeded the amount I had on me. However, the Lord works in marvelous ways. The man arrived some twenty minutes later, and a certain amount of bargaining, enabled me to pay twenty-two Ghana cedis equivalent to twenty-two dollars, for the new mirror. I was left with two cedis, which turned out to be the exact amount needed to pay the mechanics for its attachment. I discovered that the new part, was actually better than the old one, and so, less than twenty four hours after the accident, my car was fully operational. The Lord had answered my pray, so graciously. He had turned the curse into a blessing!

Tel-Aviv 16.00hrs:

I was standing on top of another 40 foot vehicle. Below my feet and carefully packed in the container, were hundreds of items of precious goods. Toys, clothes, utensils, basic foodstuffs and pharmaceuticals. Gifts sent by Christian America to express love for the people of Israel.

“What a blessing!” I thought. This was certainly the Lord’s way of turning what I called the ‘Curse of Igdud Ha’ivrit’ into the ‘Blessings of Igdud Ha’ Ivrit.’ Yet even as I praised the Lord, my mind was seeking to work out another problem. How was I going to off load all the wonderful items? It was early in the afternoon and most of my friends were at work. Never the- less, this ‘problem’ did not dampen my spirits. It was a ‘good problem.’ I was in charge of distributing thousands of dollars worth of goods, to the needy people of Israel. This moment, was my miracle handed down from Adonai Nissi!

My thoughts turned to the days when I first arrived in Israel, with a single suitcase full of African bought clothes. Not much in my case. Just enough, to see me through those initial days of student life in Tel-Aviv University. I wasn’t exactly rich although many other people from Africa, who were not as fortunate as I, might have considered me, well to do. I was an African student and, as I got to learn as the days went by, the only ones rich enough to spend money on night parties, outings and weekly visits to famous tourist sights within Israel, seemed to come from Europe or America.

I, on the other hand, had to carefully account for every shekel that came into my hands. At times I had to make the choice between the purchase of books and food. There was many a day when, I went without three square meals. To support my financial needs, I briefly worked in an Israeli newspaper factory; ‘Hadashot’ newspaper. It was a difficult time because work started at ten o’clock at night, and ended at five o’ clock the next morning. I then had to sleep and upon waking, attend to other duties.
The hardship of those days filtered through my mind, as I stood on top of this vehicle, eyes lifted towards heaven.
How wonderfully God had blessed me! He had taken this poor student from Africa and turned him into a distributor of His blessings, to the poor of Israel! He had turned my curse into His blessing.

Igdud Ha’Ivrit Street, is situated in the heart of the central bus station district of Tel-Aviv. Igdud Ha’ivrit means ‘The Hebrew Brigade’ or ‘Hebrew Unit’. It embraces the concept of Jewish resistance and fighting support, during those dark days of the Second World War. It is a much quieter street than Neveh Shannan which, boasts of dozens of drinking parlors, and entertainment centers of a less -than savoury sort.

Sometime in the past and before the Distribution Center from which I worked, moved to Neveh Shannan, Igdud Ha’ Ivrit Street mainly went unnoticed in my personal experience. It was now, on this street that the trailer was parked ready to offload God’s grace to the people of the land. And it was on this street that I know, God turned a ‘curse’ into a ‘blessing.’

Rehov Ha’ Galil (The Galilee Street), is located about five minutes walk from Neveh Shannan. It connects with Derek Petah Tikvah, now called Menachem Begin Street. It’s one of the lesser known streets of Tel-Aviv, close to the terminal that once housed the main offices of the Tel Aviv bus system. Ha Galil Street became infamous as one site of a murder. One day a shooting incident between two notorious mafia gangs in Tel-Aviv, led to the revenge killing of one of the girls hired to provide licentious entertainment. The police arrested a number of notorious personalities, and the offensive club was closed down. Closed for a short time. Short, because such businesses rarely faced permanent sanctions, even when atrocious crimes were committed within them. They bounced back with greater vigor and defiance than on previous occasions.

One calm Sunday evening, I was talking with some friends about the weekend happenings, when the bombs went off again. Yes, in those days, terrorist attacks happened with some degree of regularity. That was before the ‘Barrier,’ ‘Wall,’ or ‘Fence,‘ (names used by various interested parties), built by the Israel government, severely restricted the number of attacks carried out in central Israel.

The first explosion was very loud, and sounded as though it had gone off close by. In actual fact, it had exploded in the section of Neveh Shannan between numbers 16 and 23.

“It’s a suicide bombing!” I exclaimed, as I raced out to see what could be done. It took less than a minute before the next explosion, reverberated throughout the area, being heard as far off as Ramat Gan, a neigbourhood noted for its special interest in the diamond business. My enthusiasm for helping out, was dampened by a concern that a third attack might take place. Caution was over ruled by the desire to do something, even if, insignificant.

I arrived at the site of the second explosion. The incident had occurred on Igdud Ha Ivrit Street. Many people had been wounded or killed. Security officials had quickly set up a cordon on Neveh Shannan street, site of the first explosion. The scenes at both sites were horrific!

Igdud Ha ’Ivrit had become‘Death’ Street number two. Cars on both sides of the road had their windows completely smashed. Bonnets and boots had been forcibly opened and mangled, by the force of the blast. Windows in offices and houses within a thirty or forty meter radius had been shattered and plastic shutters, dangled towards lower floors. It seemed as though a hurricane had raged through the area. The ground was littered with broken glass, pieces of metal, ball bearings and nails. The nails and ball bearings were the dreaded contents of homemade bombs, set off by desperate killers. A headless body lay in the middle of the road. I stared at the carnage. A sense of sadness drifted over my soul.

Once, some few minutes ago, some parent, child, wife, husband or friend had stood, patiently waiting for a bus ride home. Never again would they hear the voice of a loved one asking how the day went. They would never again stand at this bus stop. Twenty- three people had perished through these brutal acts of destruction. Many more, had been wounded. As I silently stood besides the make shift memorial of flowers and lighted candles, all too often symbols of middle eastern tragedies, the reality of history dawned on me.

Mazal a nineteen year old Israeli girl, serving duty in the IDF had her life cut short. It was not just Israel that suffered, but all the nations. Stephen, a Ghanaian and seven other foreigners, had lost their lives. Israel and the nations were closely linked in this judgment. It seemed as though the words of Ruth the Moabitess, were struggling to find prophetic finality in this modern age!

“Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried” (Ruth 1:17).

For Stephen and Mazal this prophecy had been fulfilled. They were buried together in the Holy Land- one Jew one Gentile.

Just over a year later, I would stand on this same street, thanking God for the blessings He had showered on Israel. I cannot claim to be a prophet, but at times the Lord gives some insight into His remarkable plans; His vision for Israel and the world.

“And it shall come to pass, that as ye were a curse among the heathen, O house of Judah and house of Israel so will I save you, and you shall be a blessing: fear not, but let your hands be strong” (Zech 8:13).

May the Lord make Israel a blessing! May the Lord bless you as well!

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE