HIROSHIMA AND THE ATOMIC BOMBING: MORE THAN A HUNDRED THOUSAND SOULS

HIROSHIMA AND THE ATOMIC BOMBING: MORE THAN A HUNDRED THOUSAND SOULS
Photo by Jopaz Baquirin
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A timely Soulful Story to celebrate the Nobel Peace Prize awarded to the Japanese organization Nihon Hidankyo—the grassroots movement of atomic bomb survivors from Hiroshima and Nagasaki, also known as Hibakusha.

“It’s eerily peaceful and differently quiet,” I told my partner as we walked along the empty streets of Hiroshima.

This was my first time visiting the city since moving to Japan. She felt the same way when she first visited, and we both agreed that it was the knowledge of the bombing that made us feel that way.

I didn't expect the Atomic Bomb Dome Museum to be that moving. I was clueless until we uncovered what happened, one story at a time.

Stories of innocent souls—wiped away in an instant on the fateful August day. Of those who survived but lived through unimaginable after-effects. Those who had to keep moving forward while the trauma of that haunting day vividly lingered in their minds.

What surprised me most were the accounts from the young soldiers who trained under the Kamikaze troops—Japan’s top-secret force, prepared for suicidal attacks during the war.

Yes, they survived.

Because on the day of their deployment, before they could complete their mission, Hiroshima was bombed.

These teenage soldiers, instead of carrying out their orders, suddenly found themselves part of the rescue and relief teams.

What greeted them as they approached the shore was beyond anything they could have imagined.

People—charred and crumbling—young and old, desperately begged for water.

"Mizu," they cried. The screams of suffering echoed through the city, day and night, for who knows how long.

To this day, as these veterans recount their experiences, they fall into melancholy. And you feel every ounce of pain, no matter how much (or how little) you know.

Seeing an elderly woman sitting across from the now-preserved Dome, subtly wiping her tears away as everyone around her snaps selfies made me wonder:

What’s worse—death, or living with this pain every day after you’ve survived?

The world has moved on. But for the victims, the weight of that day never lifts. It follows them wherever they go.

The quiet of the city didn’t just reflect the stillness of its streets but carried the load of countless stories.

Stories of suffering. Survival. Resilience. They lingered in the air like an unspoken truth.

Almost as if it was screaming this realization:

Hiroshima demands that we feel every bit of the history it holds.

Just as Soulful Writing reminds us to capture not only the words but the emotions beneath them, this place reminded me of the weight of untold stories—stories we are responsible for holding, telling, and remembering.


Stay Soulful,

Jopaz