Portrait of Mrs. Shinobu Hizume

Medical Care After the Bombings

Today, there is widespread knowledge of the long-lasting impacts of atomic bombs. The situation in 1945, however, was much different. Doctors in Hiroshima initially did not know what kind of weapon was used and, consequently, they were unable to understand the surviving victims' unusual health conditions. They were only able to operate on physical wounds, soothe pain and provide psychological support. Only three weeks after the blast did the authorities finally disclose that uranium bombs were used and that victims were subject to intense radiation.

Even with this knowledge, doctors struggled to allay pain and cure patients. The effects of radiation often emerged slowly. For instance, a surge in leukaemia cases suggested that the cancer could be a result of the blast, and this was ultimately proven to be the case. Yet it frequently took years to establish such links and, in any case, many illnesses remained incurable.

A Little Known Story

In 1955, Mrs Shinobu Hizume travelled to London for medical treatment. Medical support was limited in Japan in the years directly after 1945. Many survivors were forced to travel abroad for care. They used these trips as opportunities to educate foreigners about the tragic consequences of the bombings. During her travels, Mrs Hizume was very surprised that 'the horror of the atomic bombings is not well known' and that so many Europeans had not 'heard that people are still dying due to the atomic bombings.'

Michiko Kodama as child at home in Hiroshima before 1945

Long-lasting illnesses

Physical scars from the atomic bomb were common, but many victims—called hibakusha—also suffered from acute PTSD as well as debilitating life-long illnesses, such as leukaemia, various other cancers, and high heart attack risk. Atomic bomb survivor and Nobel Peace Prize winner Michiko Kodama watched her mother, father, brothers, and daughter die of cancer. Looking at her family and their fates, she says 'I feel lonely, angry and scared, and I wonder if it may be my turn next.'

Discrimination and Stigma

Survivors also suffered, and continued to suffer, from discrimination and stigma. Many were told they would never marry or have families, since people did not want hibakusha blood in their family line. Survivors found it difficult to find work and rebuild their lives. Many were told never to talk about the tragedy.

During the ten-year-long American occupation, it was strictly forbidden to mention the bombings and their consequences in public. Hence the enduring hardship of the survivors was shrouded in silence. It was only from 1952 that, gradually, people began describing the hell of Hiroshima and the plight of survivors. In the 1960s, the Japanese government eventually began providing free medical services and financial support.

A Forgetful Japan

Even as survivors suffered from a litany of diseases and struggled physically, economically, and emotionally, many Japanese people outside of Hiroshima and Nagasaki remained unaware of the long-term desolation wrought by bombs. In the 1970s, Mrs Hizume and other hibakusha travelled across Japan to raise awareness. They campaigned for a relief law that would provide both medical treatment and financial support for bomb victims. Describing the tours, Mrs Hizume explained 'When I went to Tohoku and Hokkaido, I realized that the A-bomb experiences aren’t being heard outside Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I’m very glad that I was able to talk about my experience in this way.'

Lifelong Activists

Many hibakusha have become life-long activists, traveling far and wide to share their stories, even as many suffered from severe long-term illnesses. They are committed to nuclear disarmament and worry that the world is forgetting the horrors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Michiko Kodama—who was eighty-six years old in 2024—says that her 'body trembles and tears overflow' when she thinks of today’s wars, such as Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and the Israel-Gaza war. 'We must not allow the hell of the atomic bombing to be recreated. I feel a sense of crisis.'