“Can one kill for peace?
Hibakusha are not asking for an apology or compensation
We simply wish to appeal to the global community
To never create hibakusha, ever again

Hasai Hiromi”

“I was a student laborer when the bomb was dropped. We were in the thick of war – there were no longer ‘classes.’ Rather, students who lived in the outskirts were assigned to work at a factory in the city, and those who lived in the city were assigned a factory in the rural area. This made it fair for students commuting from the outskirts, as public transportation was scarce in between rural areas.

I lived in the city. On the day of the bombing, I was assigned to work at a factory in the outskirts, 15km away from the hypocenter. As I was doing my junbi taisou (pre-work stretching exercises) the sky lit up. Shocked, I peered up and saw scattered cloud formations approaching from the direction of Hiroshima. As they reached overhead, the glass panels around me began to shake. That was the extent of my experience with the atomic bomb.

We were one of very few Hiroshima-based middle school students who survived that day. Our arbitrary factory assignment had dramatically changed the course of our lives. We students never spoke about the bombing since then, perhaps out of guilt for outliving our peers.

I have since dedicated my life to study nuclear physics. I am not an advocate for the abolition of nuclear weapons, for that diminishes my legitimacy as a physicist. I am a shokunin (traditional artisan, or purist in this case) when it comes to research – no number of lawsuits from third party organizations or funding from the Ministry of Health can skew my results. After all, the government chooses who is a hibakusha and who is a hibakukeikensha (atomic bomb witness) – that is, who is entitled to subsidized healthcare and who isn’t – by using baseline data. We must focus on quantifiable information like radiation dosage levels – not just qualitative experiences – to truly honor those affected by the atomic bomb.”