Where there was once a fire and ruin, Ibe is now walking along the green grass and the monument. Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park was built on the site of the atomic bomb hit on August 6, 1945, and today it is a quiet place of reflection. Also, IIDA, 83, spends his time as a volunteer guide, sharing the story of how it took him 60 years to speak out.
IIDA was only three years old when the US dropped a uranium bomb Hiroshima (August 6, 1945. He was 900 meters from hypocentre at his mother’s childhood home.
He remembers being trapped underneath the shards and bleeding from the broken glass pieces. He tried to scream – “Mummmy, help!” – but there was no sound. His grandfather eventually saved him.
Within a month his 25-year-old mother and four-year-old sister passed away. IIDA had radiation symptoms during her grade, but gradually regained her health.
He avoided the location of the bombing for decades. Then, in his late 50s, he reluctantly replied – at the request of his aged aunt. A visit to Peace Park marked the beginning of a slow, emotional process.
Now IIDA guides foreign visitors memorialworried about the decline in global understanding of bombing. In June he traveled to Paris, London and Warsaw as part of a government-supported peace programme. He said he was afraid of how his message would be received in a nuclear-armed state, but he encountered “applause and handshakes.” The key to his approach is to encourage students to imagine the long-term consequences of nuclear war. In other words, it is not only immediate destruction, but also radioactive contamination that can withstand.
“The only way to peace is to abolish nuclear weapons. There is no other way,” Ida said.
in Nagasaki86-year-old Fumiko Doi’s life was saved by chance. On August 9, 1945, a delay prevented the train from arriving at Urakami Station the moment the second atomic bomb exploded above the nearby cathedral.
Six doi watched the flash from the window. She bent her eyes and covered her as the glass was shattered around her. The other passengers protected her. Outside, she saw people with “charcoal black” faces and torn clothes apart.
Doi had her hibakusha (a Japanese Terms referring to survivors of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki atomic bombs) A hidden state for years. She feared discrimination. Her father, a local official, was ordered to collect the bodies after the bombing and soon developed radiation symptoms. He later became a teacher and wrote poems about what he saw – a poem that made his daughter cry.
She married another survivor and worried that her children might suffer from long-term effects. Her mother and two brothers have died of cancer, and her sisters still suffer from health problems. She began speaking publicly after the 2011 Fukushima nuclear disaster, reviving her fear of radiation.
“Some people have forgotten about the atomic bomb… that’s sad,” she said. Some countries emphasize that they have even stronger countries than those used in Hiroshima.
“If we hit Japan, we will be destroyed. If it is used more all over the world, that is the end of the Earth,” she said. “That’s why I take every opportunity to talk.”
Approximately 100,000 survivors of the atomic bomb are still alive.
Some people, like Iida and Doi, are just finding the ability to speak right now. Many others are still silent, shaped by trauma and the fear of stigma that will remain in 80 years.
From 2023 onwards G7 Summit In Hiroshima, the city’s museums have skyrocketed to visitors after the award of the Nobel Peace Prize to the survivor-led group Nihon Hidankyo. About a third of visitors at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum are now international.
One of them, an American visitor Samantha Ann, said he brought the children to understand the outcome of the day. “It’s a reminder of how devastated one decision is,” she said.
The 74-year-old volunteer guide welcomes the growing interest from overseas, but he is worried that the younger generation in Japan may have forgotten their past.
After one of his tours, Ida stopped by a memorial to the children killed in the bombing. Millions of paper cranes nearby – symbols of peace – are hung from strings sent from around the world.
Among those who heard him that day was French visitor Melanie Gringoire. “It’s like sharing a little history,” she said.