צעיר ממוצא אתיופי שהוגדר על ידי העיתון היהודי הנפוץ בדרום אפריקה south Africa Jewish report נהרג בתאונה קטלנית והקהילה יהודית נסיתה להשיג את בני משפחתו אך לשווא. לאחר כמה ימים של חיפושים קדחתניים הוחלט כי הצעיר ייטמן בבית העלמין היהודי בקייפטאון בלי שאיש מבני משפחתו נוכחו בהלוויה .
העיתון מקדיש השבוע עמוד שלם לסיפורו הטרגי של תמרת תזיטה Tamrat tazita , שהוגדר על ידי העיתון יהודי ממוצא אתיופי שהתגורר בשנים אחרונות בעיר קייפטאון, דרום אפריקה . העיתון יודע גם לספר כי הצעיר הינו בוגר מבצע משה של שלהי שנות ה-80 . על פי הדיווח בעיתון לצעיר משפחה רחבה בישראל וכי הוא נהג לשלוח כסף לבני משפחתו.
בשנים אחרונות התנתק הקשר בינו לבין משפחתו ולאחר מותו הקהילה היהודית התגייסה למצוא שביב מדע אודות המשפחה שהותיר הצעיר אך לשווא. מספר נכבדי הקהילה בקייפטאון, שהיה להם קשר אישי עם הצעיר ערכו לו הלוויה יהודית בבית העלמין היהודי בעיר, זאת לאחר שלא הצליחו למצוא מישהו מבני משפחתו. בעיתון מצוטטים אנשים שהגדירו את הצעיר ציוני נלהב וכי הוא נהג לענוד על צווארו שרשרת עם מגן דוד ואף נהג לקרוא ספרי תנ"ך בצורה אינטסיבית .
כל יודע דבר על הצעיר או מישהו מבני משפחתו מוזמן לעדכן אותי באמצעות פייסבוק או באמצעות הבלוג שלי . צעיר ממוצא יהודי אתיופי נהרג בתאונה בקייפטאון
הכתבה אודות הצעיר בעיתון South Africa Jewish report:
He walked from Ethiopia to Israel and back again, was arrested on his return to that country, rescued and airlifted to Israel as part of Operation Moses. Then he found his way to South Africa, where he worked at Aquila Private Game Reserve for 20 years, was about to act in a film about Ethiopian Jews, and was tragically killed in a car crash at the beginning of July.
by TALI FEINBERG | Jul 13, 2017
Now, community members and friends are searching desperately for the family of an Ethiopian Jewish man known as Tamrat Tazita (not his full name) - whose life was as dramatic as his death - killed when his car went off a misty mountain pass in Ceres.
“He sent money to his family in Israel every month,” says labour lawyer Michael Bagraim, who had written his letter of appointment when he began working at Aquila Private Game Reserve in the Western Cape.
“Now they don’t know what happened to him,” continues Bagraim. The Israeli Embassy and other avenues have not turned out any information about the names or whereabouts of his family, presumed to be in Israel.
“We have private investigators trying to find them,” says Searl Derman, owner of Aquila Private Game Reserve, who employed Tazita for over 20 years. “We’re also looking into his bank records and Facebook contacts.”
The two were as close as siblings, but Derman explains that Tazita never spoke of his family in Israel, especially because he saw the Dermans as his family. “I’ve lost a brother,” says Derman, who adds that Tazita was extremely close to his mother, caring for her and living with her until her death. The two saw each other as mother and son, and Tazita also looked after Derman’s children.
Buried at Pinelands Jewish Cemetery in Cape Town, the large turnout at Tazita’s funeral - mainly Aquila staff members - was testament to his loyalty, popularity and amazing life story.
Cape Jewish Board Deputy Director Gwynne Robins, who was very fond of Tazita, says: “Some years ago I met an Ethiopian Jew who used to work for the Community Security Organisation (CSO) and was a useful bodyguard for the Israeli ambassador, as no one thought this black man following him could be Jewish,” she says.
“I invited him to be one of the speakers at our Freedom Seder and at Herzlia School, and he was in tears as he told how he walked from Ethiopia and made his way to Israel, returning some years later to bring across his mother and sisters - only to be arrested for leaving Ethiopia and being thrown into jail, then being rescued as part of the massive Ethiopian airlift to Israel.”
Tazita went on to work at Aquila and would visit the Gitlin Library whenever he was in town. He even arranged a free day pass for the Gitlin Librarian and Robins to visit the game reserve.
Then, “a few months ago I got a call from an American film team who were producing a film about Operation Moses, and they wanted an Ethiopian Jew to act in it,” says Robins.
“I put them in touch with Tamrat, who they met, and they were thrilled with him because he had been part of that airlift and was so presentable. He arranged leave from Aquila to take part in the film, which was to be shot in August.”
At the beginning of this month, the film crew casting coordinator Candice Maree called Robins to say that Tamrat had been killed in a horrific car crash in thick mist in the Ceres Mountains. His cell phone and records were all smashed and they had no personal details to contact his family, says Robins.
How Tazita came to work at Aquila Private Game Reserve is another turn of fate in his fascinating life story. He came to Cape Town, as he could not find work in Israel. On the day he arrived he was taken to the Cape Jewish Board of Deputies’ office, who contacted Searl Derman, asking if he knew anyone who could give him a job.
Searl owned a security company at the time, and as he was in the area, he picked up Tamrat from the Cape Board, found him a place to stay and trained him within a week, giving him his first job.
From then on, the two were inseparable. “He always had my back, he was always in my corner,” says Derman. Tazita was by his side as he developed the game reserve, “and we always klibed nachasfrom his achievements, as he was there from the beginning”.
A lifelong learner, Tamrat trained in computers and hospitality and went on to essentially run the hospitality side of Aquila, managing about 100 staff members as well as the restaurant and banqueting for corporate guests.
He was in many ways the front of house, and Bagraim says he was always the first person he asked to see when he visited the reserve.
A pallbearer at the funeral, Bagraim said it was one of the more unusual funerals he has attended, with just over a minyan of Jewish mourners and many more Aquila staff members, who joined arms in mourning. “He was buried according to Orthodox Jewish rites,” says Rabbi Ruben Suiza, who officiated at the funeral.
“He was very proud of his Jewish identity,” explains Derman, who describes Tazita as wearing a large silver Magen Dovid, and reading books from the Gitlin, multiple times.
He was well-respected by religious leaders, and asked Jewish guests at the reserve to speak Hebrew to him.
“We found his tallis in his room after his death, and were able to get that to the Chevrah Kadisha,” adds Derman.
Rabbi Suiza says: “He was very loyal... not just to the people he met, but also to his Jewish faith, Jewish history, and Zionism.”
Says Maree: “I was very honoured and lucky to meet Tamrat. He was a wonderful man, very well-spoken and polite, and he had one hell of a background.
“And the story we are telling was his struggle in reality. That’s why it was so important for me... I struggled for months to find the right person for this role, and when I met Tamrat I knew that he was the exact person for the role.
“Our story was his journey, and no one else could have done it better than he could. So, it’s going to be very hard to replace him, and he is and will be missed dearly for a very long time to come.”
Tazita was so looking forward to being part of the film, and Derman says that an employee reports talking to him about recently it for three hours. “He seemed very much at peace with his life,” adds Derman. Indeed, in a Facebook post, Tazita wrote:
“The things you do for yourself are gone when you (are) gone. but the things you do for others remain as your legacy.”
Derman feels that he and Tamrat meeting, was fateful in many ways, and he describes his friend as loyal, supportive, with a “bulletproof self-esteem” and a gentle soul.
“The only time I saw him fight was when it was for me,” remembers Derman. “He was always helping me live my dream. A peaceful man who fought my battles for me.
“He will be remembered for his loyalty, commitment, honesty and trustworthiness.” Although he feels that Tamrat did much more for him than he did in return, he admits that “we took care of each other”.