Easy Japanese news in translation: Little terns successfully raise chicks in city of Fukuoka
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Easy Japanese news is taken from the Mainichi Shogakusei Shimbun, a newspaper for children. This is perfect material for anyone studying Japanese who has learned hiragana and katakana. We encourage beginners to read the article in English followed by Japanese, or vice versa, to test their comprehension.
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The Mainichi
6 hours ago
- The Mainichi
Her voice long-stifled in US-occupied Okinawa, Nagasaki A-bomb survivor speaks out
NAHA -- "I had no choice but to stay silent." In Tomoko Oshiro's calm words, the deep loneliness of the past was unmistakable. Oshiro, 84, who survived the atomic bombing of Nagasaki and now resides in Urasoe, Okinawa Prefecture, has lived in Okinawa since the year after World War II ended. Under U.S. rule until 1972, Okinawa lagged behind the Japanese mainland in providing support for hibakusha, or atomic bomb survivors. For many years, Oshiro did not speak about her experiences. What changed that was her connection with other hibakusha on the island. Oshiro was born in Osaka to her father Chiyu Bise (who died in 2004 at age 93) from the Okinawa prefectural capital Naha, and mother Sachiko (who died in 2006 at age 95). In the spring of 1945 Oshiro moved to the Motoharamachi district of Nagasaki to live with her paternal grandmother. She was 4 years old at the time. The family of five included her 1-year-old brother. At 11:02 a.m. on Aug. 9, while Oshiro was playing at home with her grandmother and brother, the ceiling collapsed onto her head. The A-bomb had exploded, and Oshiro was only about 1.3 kilometers from the hypocenter. "Tomo-chan, Tomo-chan." She heard her mother's voice as she returned from a friend's house, and Oshiro desperately shouted "Help me!" from under the rubble. Her mother, herself burned, rescued Oshiro and carried her to a first-aid station. According to her mother's memoir, her grandmother was blown off her feet by the blast and died despite efforts to save her life. Oshiro's baby brother, who was on his grandmother's back, was killed instantly, crushed against an earthen wall. In 1946, the family moved to Okinawa. Her parents made a living as geta sandal makers and welders. Many atomic bomb survivors in Okinawa worked on bases belonging to the U.S. military, which had dropped the bomb. The need to survive made hibakusha reluctant to speak. Taeko Kiriya, an associate professor of peace studies at Tama University in Tokyo who conducted interviews in Okinawa from 2019 to 2022, noted, "Many survivors said they hid their status because they feared losing their jobs if people found out." On the Japanese mainland, the 1957 atomic bomb medical law required the national government to pay for health checkups and medical expenses for hibakusha. But Okinawa was excluded. A survey of survivors in Okinawa began in 1963, and the Ryukyu government (as it was then) started issuing survivor health handbooks in 1967 -- 10 years later than on the mainland. It was only through these long-awaited checkups that they discovered glass fragments still embedded in Oshiro's mother's body. When Oshiro graduated from high school, relatives in east Japan's Kanto region warned her, "Never tell anyone you're a hibakusha. It will affect your chances of marriage." She obeyed, thinking, "If I'm going to be discriminated against, I have no choice but to stay silent." The first time she confided in someone outside her family was in her late 20s, to a man she had met at work, whom she would later marry. Worried about the effects of radiation, she told him, "I can't have children." Even so, she became pregnant at 25 and raised a daughter. In her 40s, she was diagnosed with thyroid cancer and uterine fibroids. She never consulted colleagues or those close to her. "The atomic bomb was something that happened on the mainland. People in Okinawa wouldn't understand how survivors feel," she thought. She also felt guilty for not knowing or being able to talk about the suffering of the Okinawan people, a quarter of whom died in the Battle of Okinawa in 1945. A turning point came about 25 years ago. After reaching retirement age and settling into a quieter life, she joined the Okinawa Prefecture hibakusha association, the only such group in the prefecture. At general meetings and health checkups, survivors from across the Okinawan archipelago would gather. There, she could share feelings she had never spoken about, including her thoughts on the atomic bombing and the Battle of Okinawa. "I enjoyed talking with everyone," she said, recalling the encouragement she felt. Eight years ago, her only daughter was diagnosed with bile duct cancer and died at age 50. "Was my daughter's cancer my fault?" Oshiro wondered. It was her fellow association members who helped ease her deep sense of guilt. In the early 1980s, there were more than 350 hibakusha living in Okinawa. As of April 2025, only 68 remained. At the Peace Memorial Park in Itoman, Okinawa Prefecture, the Cornerstone of Peace bears the names of those who perished in the Battle of Okinawa and local atomic bomb survivors, including Oshiro's parents. When she visited the monument in June, she traced their names with her hand and said, "Dad, Mom, I'm doing well." Since 2020, Oshiro has served as president of the survivors' association. She says she is only able to speak out now thanks to the community built by earlier generations of hibakusha. "I hope people will not forget the journey of hibakusha on the (Okinawa) islands who lived far from the bombed cities," she said.
Yomiuri Shimbun
19 hours ago
- Yomiuri Shimbun
Nagasaki A-Bomb Survivor Urges N-Arms Never Be Used; 93-Year-Old Tells of Gruesome Scenes Witnessed at 13
Nagasaki atomic bomb survivor Hiroshi Nishioka, 93, read out the 'Pledge for Peace' at the peace memorial ceremony as a representative of survivors in Nagasaki City on Saturday. Nishioka, the oldest person ever to serve as the representative, devoted most of his speech to his own experience of the atomic bombing and appealed for nuclear weapons never to be used. Ahead of the ceremony, he had said: 'There are very few people left who know what the atomic bombing was like. So I would like to talk about what I know as much as I can.' On August 9, 1945, Nishioka, then 13 years old, was in the medical supply room of a middle school in Nagasaki, about 3.3 kilometers from the hypocenter. The echoing roar of an American B-29 bomber drew him to the window, where he was enveloped in a light that seemed to blend orange and yellow. 'I thought, 'A bomb has been dropped on the school's tennis court,'' Nishioka said in his speech. 'I lay flat on the floor.' He was struck by the blast wave, and classmates who had fallen on top of him were drenched in blood as their flesh was pierced with numerous shards of glass from the shattered windows. On the way home, he saw evacuees streaming away from the area where the center of the blast had been. 'A man with his entire body covered in blood. A mother holding a baby as she walked, with blood streaming from the baby's face. A person whose arm, hanging limply, appeared to be severed.' Facing countless injured people, Nishioka recalled that 'my senses became numb, and I did not even feel pity for them.' The next day, he joined the rescue activities at another middle school, closer to the hypocenter. The uniformed bodies of many students who had been crushed under the school building were laid out on the sports ground along with the bodies of teachers who also died in the bombing. On his way back, he saw many bodies scattered on the road. An injured person begged him for water. 'I might die myself,' the young Nishioka thought. Afraid that the water bottle hanging from his waist might be taken, he had no choice but to shake off the person's arms, which were stretched out for help, and move on. 'Even now, when I recall the moment, my heart still aches.' He left Nagasaki and moved to Tokyo to attend university. He got a job at a major trading company, and worked on trade with the United States, among others. When he retired about 30 years ago, an acquaintance who is also a hibakusha atomic bomb survivor urged him to speak up, saying, 'Anybody who was in Nagasaki [at that time] needs to tell the world.' He visited the United States and spoke in English about the damage caused by the atomic bomb. Seeing how intensely the audience listened to his testimony, he realized the importance of sharing his story. He began his activities as a storyteller for the atomic bomb survivors' association in Kanagawa Prefecture and has continued to give lectures on the atomic bombings at schools. At the same time, he was also feeling powerless due to the idea that a single voice would not make nuclear threat disappear. However, when Nihon Hidankyo (Japan Confederation of A- and H-Bomb Sufferers Organizations), to which his association belongs, was awarded with the Nobel Peace Prize last year, he felt encouraged to keep going. On Saturday, he said in his speech: 'We should never stop the movement that leads toward peace. We should keep moving forward, and have more people join us. This is what we are aiming for.' Nishioka collaborated with a Kanagawa prefectural government project that utilizes AI in storytelling activities, pre-recording testimony plus answers to anticipated questions. These materials are already used in school education, and he feels they are effective tools in anticipation of an era when there are no longer any living atomic bomb survivors. At the ceremony on Saturday, ambassadors from countries that possess nuclear arms, including the United States and Russia, were listening to Nishioka's words. Amid the deteriorating international situation surrounding nuclear weapons, he concluded his speech with the following words. 'Nuclear weapons should never be used. Everything will be over if they are used. Let us protect this beautiful Earth.'
The Mainichi
a day ago
- The Mainichi
Nagasaki marks 80th A-bomb anniv. as survivors put hopes of nuke ban in hands of youth
NAGASAKI, Japan (AP) -- The southern Japanese city of Nagasaki on Saturday marked 80 years since the U.S. atomic attack that killed tens of thousands and left survivors who hope their harrowing memories can help make their hometown the last place on Earth to be hit by a nuclear bomb. The United States launched the Nagasaki attack on Aug. 9, 1945, killing 70,000 by the end of that year, three days after the bombing of Hiroshima that killed 140,000. Japan surrendered on Aug. 15, 1945, ending World War II and the country's nearly half-century of aggression across Asia. About 2,600 people, including representatives from more than 90 countries, attended a memorial event at Nagasaki Peace Park, where Mayor Shiro Suzuki and Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba spoke, among other guests. At 11:02 a.m., the exact time when the plutonium bomb exploded above Nagasaki, participants observed a moment of silence as a bell rang. Nagasaki pledges to be the last atomic bombing site Dozens of doves, a symbol of peace, were released after a speech by Suzuki, whose parents are survivors of the attack. He said the city's memories of the bombing are "a common heritage and should be passed down for generations" in and outside Japan. "The existential crisis of humanity has become imminent to each and every one of us living on Earth," Suzuki said. "In order to make Nagasaki the last atomic bombing site now and forever, we will go hand-in-hand with global citizens and devote our utmost efforts toward the abolition of nuclear weapons and the realization of everlasting world peace." Praying for nuclear abolition and no war Survivors and their families gathered Saturday in rainy weather at Peace Park and nearby Hypocenter Park, located below the bomb's exact detonation spot, hours before the official ceremony. "I simply seek a world without war," said Koichi Kawano, an 85-year-old survivor who laid flowers at the Hypocenter monument decorated with colorful paper cranes and other offerings. Some others prayed at churches in Nagasaki, home to Catholic converts who went deep underground during centuries of violent persecution in Japan's feudal era. The twin bells at Urakami Cathedral, which was destroyed in the bombing, also rang together again after one of the bells that had gone missing following the attack was restored by volunteers. Despite their pain from wounds, discrimination and illnesses from radiation, survivors have publicly committed to a shared goal of abolishing nuclear weapons. But they worry about the world moving in the opposite direction. Survivors put their hopes in younger hands Aging survivors and their supporters in Nagasaki now put their hopes of achieving nuclear weapons abolition in the hands of younger people, telling them the attack is not distant history, but an issue that remains relevant to their future. "There are only two things I long for: the abolition of nuclear weapons and prohibition of war," survivor Fumi Takeshita said. "I only see a world where nuclear weapons are never used and everyone can live in peace." In hopes of passing on the lessons of history, Takeshita visits schools to share her experience with children. "When you grow up and remember what you learned today, please think what each of you can do to prevent war," Takeshita, 83, told students during a school visit earlier this week. Teruko Yokoyama, an 83-year-old member of a Nagasaki organization supporting survivors, said she feels the absence of those she has worked, which fuels her strong desire to document the lives of remaining survivors. The number of survivors has fallen to 99,130, about a quarter of the original number, with their average age exceeding 86. Survivors worry about fading memories, as the youngest of the survivors were too young to recall the attack clearly. "We must keep records of the atomic bombing damages of the survivors and thier lifetime story," said Yokoyama, whose two sisters died after suffering illnesses linked to radiation. Her organization has started to digitalize the narratives of survivors for viewing on YouTube and other social media platforms with the help of a new generation. "There are younger people who are beginning to take action," Yokoyama told The Associated Press on Friday. "So I think we don't have to get depressed yet." Nagasaki hosted a "peace forum" on Friday where survivors shared their stories with more than 300 young people from around the country. Seiichiro Mise, a 90-year-old survivor, said he is handing seeds of "flowers of peace" to the younger generation in hopes of seeing them bloom. Japan's security dilemma Survivors are frustrated by a growing nuclear threat and support among international leaders for developing or possessing nuclear weapons for deterrence. They criticize the Japanese government's refusal to sign or even participate in the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons because Japan, as an American ally, needs U.S. nuclear possession as deterrence. In Ishiba's speech, the prime mininister reiterated Japan's pursuit of a nuclear-free world and pledged to promote dialogue and cooperation between countries with nuclear weapons and non-nuclear states at the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons review conference scheduled for April and May 2026 in New York City. Ishiba, however, did not mention the nuclear weapons ban treaty. Nagasaki invited representatives from all countries to attend the ceremony Saturday. China notably notified the city it would not be present without providing a reason. The ceremony last year stirred controversy due to the absence of the U.S. ambassador and other Western envoys in response to the Japanese city's refusal to invite Israel.
