There are stories that history begins to tell only from the moment they become drama: the moment of departure, the moment of danger, the moment of crossing.
This happened more than once with the story of the Beta Israel community. For decades, the Israeli narrative reduced us to the “journey story”: the hardships of Sudan, the heroism of the march, the pain, the loss and the tormented longing.
But before there was a journey – there was life.
There were villages. There were houses. There was faith. There was a living and rooted value system. There were traditions, prayers, families, women, children, elders and a whole community that carried a deep and ancient Jewish-African world.
In my eyes, the story before the ascension is not a marginal prologue. He is the heart from which everything came.
It’s time to stop telling us only through the “no” and the lack of absorption, and start telling us also through the huge “yes” we brought with us.
Life in the Jewish villages in Ethiopia was not just a setting. They were the space where our identity was created.
There, identity was not conveyed in lectures or heritage classes. She passed by osmosis.
As children, we lived on the periphery of the adult world. We were not the center, but we breathed the rhythm of the house: the smell of the beaver, the sounds of prayer, the respect for the elders, the communal responsibility and the sense of belonging that was built not from big words, but from a whole life.
A child growing up in this world didn’t have to learn who he was. He was part of a living continuity.
It is a non-verbal knowledge that is engraved in the body. A memory that was assimilated in us even before it received words.
One of the most missing parts of the pre-aliyah story is the voice of the women.
They were not always in the center of the official stage, but they were the backbone that held everything together.
Women who carried a house.
Women who have borne children.
Women who bore silence.
Women who carried a deep-rooted faith that kept families whole even in impossible conditions.
Their leadership was not always recorded in documents, but it was one of the most profound forms of leadership: the leadership of the everyday. The ability to have a home, memory, faith and community – even when the road is cracked.
Out of the desire to give voice to this feminine, rooted and intergenerational world, my book was born “A scarred stone“.
I wanted to restore these women to their place in the story – not as background characters, but as the driving force of the community.
The longing for Jerusalem was not an inhibiting nostalgic emotion. He was an organizing force.
He gave the community direction. He maintained a sense of belonging even when Jerusalem was far from sight.
The journey to Israel did not begin at the moment of leaving the village. He started much earlier – in every prayer, in every holiday, in every story, in every look that was carried to the horizon.
These acquisitions were the backbone of generations. They kept us upright even when the road cracked.
When the story begins only with the “wound” of the immigration and absorption, the community is perceived mainly through pain, lack and distress. These are real parts of the story, but they are not the whole story.
The correction I would like to propose gives us back the depth:
We didn’t come from empty.
We didn’t come because of a lack of culture.
We didn’t just come out of distress.
We came from an ancient and living Jewish-African world. from tradition. out of faith from a community structure. From women and men who led whole lives even before their story met the State of Israel.
When the full story is told, the perspective of the next generation also changes.
Our children do not just inherit a story of hardship. They also inherit a story of resilience, depth and continuity. They don’t need to reinvent themselves. They can reconnect with the sources of power that already exist within them.
“A scarred stone” is where Nagasti’s personal story meets our collective story.
This is an attempt to look back at the life that was there before. Not as nostalgia for the past, but as a way to the future.
Before there was an ascension, there was life.
Before there was a journey, there were roots.
Before the story reached Israel, it already carried a deep, ancient and living voice within it.
The time has come for Israelis to learn to listen to this voice – not as a story of “others”, but as an integral part of the mosaic of all of us.
This article is part of the content world of “A scarred stone“, a novel about the women of Beta Israel in Ethiopia, about the life before the journey, and about the power absorbed in memory.
Lecturer, writer and strategic consultant for identity-based leadership. Accompanying organizations, managers and communities in a process that transforms identity, roots and life experience from a source of concealment or friction - to a source of presence, belonging, leadership and impact.
צמיחה אמיתית לא נולדת מחיקוי, אלא מהאומץ לפגוש את עצמך - ולהביא לעולם את האני שלך באמת
אני מזמינה אותך ליצור איתי קשר
Fentay Maharat-Alamu's debut novel returns to the world of the women of the House of Israel in Ethiopia - to roots, memory, scars and female strength. Leave details to receive first updates on the release of the book, pre-purchase, premium edition and launch events.
