"Thrown into a Japanese Jail, All I Managed to Take Was a Small Book of Psalms"

During the three months Shagai Yehuda Ben Simon spent in Japan, he worked at a stall selling fake watches and wallets. Such sales booths are abundant in the eastern country, and many Israelis enjoy making good profits from them. On his very last day there, Shagai wasn't supposed to work; he was leisurely strolling the streets, savoring the final moments of his trip to the East. By afternoon, he received a call from the new employee who replaced him at the stall, asking if Shagai could come and cover for him briefly. He willingly agreed, unaware of the crucial turn his life was about to take. Mere minutes after arriving, Shagai found himself approached by Japanese police. That same day, he found himself in detention, forced to endure unbearable conditions. What Shagai couldn't see at the time was how this crisis would lead him to a new life, connecting him to the true orchestrator of everything.

A Cold Rice Ball in the Morning and Evening

Shagai Yehuda grew up in a traditional home in Eilat, and after completing his military service, he decided to travel to the East. "In the last months of the trip, I worked in Japan and simultaneously began to inch closer to religion," he shares. "I always had a connection to Judaism; my grandparents observed mitzvot, and my mother attended a religious school. I discovered Chabad in Japan, decided to keep kosher, and began putting on tefillin daily. Simultaneously, I lived a frivolous lifestyle, making various mistakes, and the thought of taking responsibility for my life seemed as distant as the east from the west. Regarding the booth work, I knew there was some risk of getting caught, but it was so rare that it didn't bother me at all."

Then, in a single moment, everything changed. "After the police caught me, instead of flying home, I found myself in a detention cell. I was there with other prisoners from around the world, some Iranians and others who disliked Israel, of whom I was genuinely afraid. However, a glimmer of light appeared. A prisoner from the Japanese mafia surprisingly decided to take me under his wing, without any apparent reason. We hardly communicated since I knew very little Japanese, yet he looked out for me. For instance, when food was distributed, he ensured I received a bit more than others, which reassured me knowing no one would dare harm me."

Shagai Yehuda Ben Simon in the past

For two weeks, Shagai Yehuda was in detention. "Throughout those days, my family had no idea what was happening to me until the Japanese authorities kindly informed the Israeli embassy about my existence," he recalls. "They relayed the information to my parents and sent a representative to check on my well-being. From there, I was transferred to prison, where I faced extremely harsh conditions. I had to wake up every morning at 6, remain seated cross-legged until midnight, isolated in my cell, seeing others only during a short daily yard time. A cold rice ball was our breakfast and dinner, with a dry bread slice for lunch. There were other foods on the menu, but they contained all sorts of animals, and I was determined not to touch them. Having decided to keep kosher, I stuck to it despite the severe hunger. We were only allowed to shower once a week, my long hair grimed in the cell's dirt, which irritated me greatly. It seemed the prison aimed to mentally suppress the inmates."

How did you feel during those days?

"I felt lonely and lost amidst a cloud of uncertainty. I didn't know what would happen to me, when it would end, or what my parents were experiencing back in Israel. Additionally, I couldn't see a lawyer and underwent numerous interrogations. The police wanted me to incriminate other Israelis connected to the stall, taking me around the city to point out their residences. It was clear to me that I wouldn't incriminate anyone to avoid inflicting this terrible suffering on others. I knew that if I implicated my colleagues, they would leave me be, but I couldn't bring myself to cause them such pain."

What gave you strength through it all?

"Upon entering the prison, they took all my belongings, but I managed to sneak in one item, a tiny Book of Psalms. This little book stayed with me constantly, and I read from it frequently. I would wrap a shirt around my head to serve as a kippah and pray. The prison guards disliked my appearance but still allowed me to keep the book. Throughout my stay, I started talking to Hashem. With no one else to share my pain with, I would tell Him what I was going through, begging for salvation. A further point of light came from the Chabad emissary in Tokyo, who visited me after much effort. He traveled for hours and underwent numerous inspections to enter the prison, yet he persisted. The emissary helped me put on tefillin and lifted my spirits. For me, having a Jew who cared about me stand in front of me, and being able to converse with someone in Hebrew, meant a lot."

Food and a Bed - Not to Be Taken for Granted

After three grueling months, the moment of judgment arrived. "I sat there alone before the judge, accompanied by an interpreter explaining his words to me. The moment of decision came, my heart trembling, and the interpreter informed me that the judge had sentenced me to another year in prison. Having experienced each day of the past three months as an eternity, I knew I couldn't endure any longer, and upon hearing this, I felt on the verge of fainting."

(Illustration photo: shutterstock)

However, the verdict turned out to be something else entirely. "The real decision was to give me another month and a half in a more comfortable jail, followed by my release. The lie was intended to break my spirit. As they aim to crush an inmate's spirit during imprisonment, in Japan it is customary to do so even when delivering a sentence. Only after leaving the place and being informed of the true decision did I breathe a sigh of relief. From there, I was indeed transferred to a more open jail, where I was allowed to call my parents and buy a bit more food. Just knowing I was about to be freed and return to Israel already eased my burden."

What came out of all this hardship in the end?

"Firstly, a deep faith grew within me. Specifically, there, I witnessed Hashem's providence daily; I understood that only He governs the world. Beyond that, after making numerous offenses and mistakes in Japan, I sensed how Hashem was signaling me to halt everything. From there, my attitude towards life began to change, and I realized I needed to take it seriously. Experiencing immense deprivation taught me to values even the smallest things. The very fact that I returned to a normal environment, with food and a bed, showed me how much it all means, something I previously took for granted."

Gradually, Shagai Yehuda also began embracing the path of Torah. "It took a few years and didn't happen overnight, but one could say that the decision had already germinated within me back then. I saw my goal ahead, adopting another mitzvah each time. I walked small steps, and to this day, I'm still walking. I have been blessed since then, happily married and a father to children. Today, I thank Hashem for the path I took, with all its challenges because it is what led me to inner connection and closeness to Hashem."