Ofakim basks in protest afterglow

The thousands who stormed Ofakim this week left locals wanting more. Disengagement supporters and opponents had difficulty absorbing what had occurred in their town. They couldn't recall an invasion by so many thousands, lending the town the appearance of a big city.

For the first time, locals could experience life in a bustling metropolis: cars, traffic jams, no parking spots, thousands thronging every venue proffering food and drink. Somebody calculated there were more than 80,000 people in Ofakim on Tuesday - 30,000 police and soldiers, 25,000 locals and 25,000 settlers.

Ofakim briefly came to life. This southern town, known as a living symbol of chronic hardship, momentarily forgot its troubles and showered visitors with love. Locals offered free hospitality - use of their rooms and balconies, sleeping bags and refrigerators. The important thing was to make visitors feel good so they could devote themselves to their struggle.

"Alhough I'm a leftist, I hosted several settlers," municipal secretary Ami Cohen said. "Ofakim hasn't experienced such a happening since its founding in 1955. Even on the happiest Independence Day in town, we haven't seen half of what we saw this week."

Smiling from ear to ear, Mayor Avi Asraf toured Ofakim Park yesterday, where the thousands of protesters congregated. A year ago, he led support for the disengagement in the Likud rank-and-file poll. His lot wasn't easy, torn between his brother living in Kfar Darom and his closeness to Prime Minister Ariel Sharon. His brother urged him to vote against; Sharon telephoned and asked for his vote. He ultimately decided to back Sharon, but that did not prevent opponents from winning by a landslide 70 percent.

Asraf this week laid aside his closeness to Sharon and placed his town at the disposal of Gush Katif supporters. "How wonderful," he beamed, "look what it's done for commerce in the city. Everything has perked up. Tradesmen told me they wish it would continue."

There was some griping about traffic jams, a previously unheard of phenomenon, and about the fact that thousands of people had taken over the town and thousands of troops had commandeered junctions and roads. Residents were particularly irate that Ofakim's main drag, Herzl Street, was closed for four hours.

Even Avraham Ivgi stepped outside to see the hubbub for himself. As head of Ofakim's welfare service for 14 years, he has seen the lot of the disadvantaged stretched to the breaking point over the past four years. Five years ago he got five requests for help from people who couldn't get a hot meal. By this week, their number had grown a hundredfold. More than 500 hot meals are delivered daily to poor families. "Kudos to the settlers," Ivgi said. "Every time they have surplus vegetables and fruits they send it to us."

Ofakim has 14 percent unemployment, according to Employment Service figures published this week. Aharon Alkabetz, director of the municipal economic development authority, yesterday put the unofficial unemployment rate at between 25-30 percent. Like Ivgi, Alkabetz welcomed the invasion. "At least we had a great economy for a day," he enthused. "I know how much the merchants prayed for a day like this and finally it arrived. Imagine if once a month, the town were to fill up like this. I'm telling you that Ofakim would emerge from its economic crisis."

Neither bears the settlers any grudge for supposedly dispossessing the locals, having never accepted claims that the billions that went to the settlements came at the expense of the "development towns." "I don't believe that even after the evacuation of Gush Katif, our budgets will grow," said Alkabetz, as Ivgi nodded in agreement.