Tomoko Watanabe, Part 2

Beliefs born from Hiroshima's A-bomb experience

Tomoko Watanabe (left), as a child in elementary school, stands in front of corn she helped grow in the family garden.

Tomoko Watanabe

Born in the city of Hiroshima in 1953. While serving as the managing director of a law office, she has been involved in activities concerned with international understanding and peace education for citizens and children in Hiroshima and trainees from overseas. In 1989 she founded the non-profit organization ANT-Hiroshima and assumed the role of executive director. She provides support to those working for peace and began offering assistance to Afghan refugees in 2002 and aid for reconstruction in the earthquake-damaged Kashmir region of Pakistan in 2005. She lives in the city of Hiroshima and is a member of the city's board of education.

I was born in 1953, eight years after the atomic bombing. My parents are atomic bomb survivors. I was a child who loved books more than food unlike other runny-nosed children who climbed trees and played in the river. I grew up in a big family of 15 and I learned the importance of family ties and compassion. I guess I was influenced by this environment and my favorite books as I felt a strong longing to become a person who would be helpful to others, like a woman doctor who works in a village where there aren't any other doctors around.

During my childhood, the scars of the war and the atomic bombing were everywhere. I saw former soldiers, injured by the war, who had trouble getting food. We didn't learn about the atomic bombing at school, but we saw the terrible aftermath so often in our daily lives that we got used to living in that sort of environment.

One day, when I was 20, my grandfather was working on the farm and had a stroke. He died in front of me. His death gave me a great shock. He was so important to my family life and I didn't know how to handle the loss. I couldn't express my sorrow in words, and I continued to ponder the idea of "death." I came to question the meaning of life, wondering, "What is the purpose of my being here on Earth?" It was the first time I felt aware of the fact that I was born in Hiroshima to parents who were survivors of the atomic bomb.

When the atomic bomb was dropped, my father was 27 and my mother was 15. My father was riding on a train that had stopped at Hiroshima station and this shielded him from the heat rays so he wasn't burned. My mother was at the Red Cross nursing school, but she managed to survive, miraculously, by quickly hiding under her desk. My father didn't tell me about his experience of that day, but I remember I heard one story in which he shared some oil he had with the survivors to help treat their burns. His words still come back to me: "There's nothing we can do but keep on going, keep on living.

My mother wouldn't discuss her experience of the bombing, either. But when I was a university student, I organized a showing of a film of Hiroshima that had been made by the U.S. Strategic Bombing Survey. At that point, she slowly began sharing her story with me. She told me about a classmate who wasn't rescued from the wreckage of the building; a baby crying in its dying mother's arms in front of the entrance to the Red Cross hospital; a patient she helped carry from a hospital bed to escape the flames in that room; the relief efforts she made, without rest, to assist the survivors; and more. Her account of the bombing touched deeper and deeper into my heart.

As I heard the A-bomb experiences of the people around me, including my parents, I became moved to know more about the atomic bombing and what "Hiroshima" means. I then tried to write about it in my graduate thesis. I walked all over Hiroshima, listening to the stories of people who had made contributions to the history of Hiroshima. From them, and their way of living, I was able to learn so much, and acquire the courage to endure difficulties and the firm belief that we mustn't give up.

The more I became familiar with Hiroshima's A-bomb experience, the greater and more profound the meaning grew. I came to feel that I wanted to focus on this issue in my work for the rest of my life. My motivation for my activities in the world stem from the strong feeling that I want to help others as well as the A-bomb experience of Hiroshima.