As Hiroshima approaches the 80th anniversary of the atomic bombing, three significant events have coincided almost simultaneously: a memorial for Keiko Sasamori, known as the ‘Hiroshima Maidens’; the production of a drama starring Neru Nagahama, a third-generation hibakusha; and the announcement of the outline for the Hiroshima Peace Declaration. Each of these events raises the question, ‘Who is telling the story?’ from different perspectives.

This is not merely a story of generational change. The very framework that has supported the act of testimony is now on the verge of transformation.

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Memorial for Keiko Sasamori — What Remains After the ‘Speaking Body’ Has Disappeared

The memorial for Keiko Sasamori was held in Hiroshima city, attended by hibakusha who knew her and former Hiroshima Mayor Tadatoshi Akiba.

Sasamori was 13 years old when she was exposed to the atomic bomb in 1945. She suffered deep keloid scars on her face and hands and moved to the United States in 1955, becoming one of the 25 ‘Hiroshima Maidens’ accepted by American civic groups and doctors. After her treatment, she remained in the U.S., continuing to testify in English while showing her skin. It is estimated that she delivered her testimony hundreds of times throughout her life.

At the memorial, her own words were repeatedly echoed: ‘I am not a victim. I am a survivor.’ This statement encapsulates the core attitude of her testimony work. She did not merely express the pain of being hibakusha; she continuously challenged herself with the question of what to convey as someone who survived.

According to statistics from the Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare, as of the end of March 2024, there are approximately 106,000 holders of hibakusha health cards, with an average age exceeding 85. Each year, around several thousand pass away. Sasamori’s death is included in this statistic. However, the atmosphere at the memorial conveyed something that statistics cannot capture—a quiet sense of disconnection, the feeling that each time a ‘speaking body’ disappears, a corresponding circuit on the listening side also closes.

Family members and friends are reportedly organizing Sasamori’s testimony videos and writings to create an archive. The words remain. However, the physical transmission that involved her keloid-scarred hand being extended with the invitation to ‘touch it’ can no longer be replicated. Here lies a fundamental challenge within the ‘framework’ of testimony.

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Neru Nagahama’s Drama — The Function of ‘Narration’ Taken on by Fiction

Another project that was underway around the same time as the memorial is a drama set in Hiroshima starring Neru Nagahama, a third-generation hibakusha.

Nagahama hails from Nagasaki Prefecture, where her grandparents experienced the atomic bombing. She herself does not have a direct experience of the bombing. This ‘lack’ serves as the starting point for the drama.

Notably, this drama is designed not as a ‘recreation of testimony’ but as a ‘story from the perspective of those who have heard the testimony.’ The protagonist oscillates between fragmented memories of the bombing she heard from her grandmother and her contemporary life. The pressure to narrate the past ‘correctly’ and the hesitation over whether she has the right to speak—these ‘costs of inheritance’ are central to the narrative.

In an interview, Nagahama expressed, ‘When I heard my grandmother’s story, I felt both fear and a responsibility to remember it correctly. But even if I remember, when I speak, it becomes something different from my grandmother’s words. That was frightening.’

This statement reflects the essential dilemma of intergenerational inheritance. It is impossible to convey the words of the experiencer ‘as they are.’ But does it have to be ‘as they are’ to hold value? The form of fiction can serve as one answer to this question.

If testimony is established on the ‘accuracy of facts,’ then fiction is established on the ‘accuracy of emotions.’ It depicts the very process by which those who have not experienced the events seek to approach the pain of the experiencer. This is not a substitute for testimony but an attempt to open new circuits for those receiving the testimony.

Here lies the transformation of the structure of narration. From a one-way structure of speaker → audience, it shifts to a two-way structure that shows ‘how those who have heard grapple with what they have heard.’ When the narrator transitions from ‘experiencer’ to ‘inheritor,’ the form of narration must also inevitably change.

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Peace Declaration Outline — The Reality Facing the ‘Narrative System’

The third movement is the outline of the peace declaration announced by the city of Hiroshima. This outlines the direction of the declaration to be read at the peace memorial ceremony on August 6, 2025, marking the 80th anniversary of the bombing, which includes the statement, ‘The world without nuclear weapons is becoming more distant.’

This recognition is backed by numbers. According to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI) 2024 report, the total number of nuclear warheads worldwide is estimated to be around 12,000. The pace of reduction has slowed compared to the previous year, and both China and Russia are moving towards modernization and expansion. While the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW) has over 70 signatory countries, none of the nuclear-armed states have participated. Japan, too, remains under the U.S. ‘nuclear umbrella’ and has not signed the treaty.

The peace declaration is read annually by the Mayor of Hiroshima. It is one of the systems that preserves the voices of hibakusha as an institution. However, the situation that forces the declaration to acknowledge that ‘the world without nuclear weapons is becoming more distant’ also reveals the limitations of narrative as an institution.

The outline of the declaration criticizes reliance on nuclear deterrence and calls on policymakers to visit the site of the bombing and engage in dialogue. However, there is a structural problem here as well. The intended audience for the declaration—the leaders of nuclear-armed states—are not the audience for this declaration. The act of continuing to express words that do not reach those we wish to convey them to raises questions about the meaning of that endeavor.

Mayor Kazumi Matsui emphasizes the role of civil society in the outline. In a context where negotiations between states are stalled, the importance of NGOs, local governments, and educational institutions having ‘narrative circuits’ in a multi-layered manner can be read as a call for a shift from the traditional system that has relied on individual testimonies.

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The Structure Reflected in the Three Events — From ‘Who Speaks’ to ‘How to Deliver’

The memorial for Keiko Sasamori, Neru Nagahama’s drama, and the outline of the peace declaration belong to three different realms—personal testimony, fiction, and public institution. Yet, they all stand before the same question.

When the ‘speaker’ is gone, does narration disappear?

In response to this question, the three events attempt different answers. The memorial focuses on ‘the preservation of records and memories,’ the drama showcases ‘the inheritor’s conflict as it is,’ and the peace declaration emphasizes ‘continuing to speak as an institution.’ None of these is the sole correct answer. Rather, the simultaneous existence of all three itself indicates that the framework of narration is becoming multi-layered.

With the average age of hibakusha exceeding 85, the term ‘generational change’ is no longer a forecast but a current reality. However, it is not only ‘generations’ that are changing. The forms of narration, the circuits of delivery, and the attitudes of the receivers—all are on the verge of transformation simultaneously.

Sasamori extended her hand, inviting, ‘Touch it.’ Nagahama acknowledged, ‘My words will differ from my grandmother’s.’ The peace declaration stated, ‘The world without nuclear weapons is becoming more distant.’ The tones of these three statements are entirely different. However, they all share the choice of ‘yet, we will speak,’ pointing in the same direction.

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Future Points of Interest

• Design Philosophy of Testimony Archives: How the digitalization of Sasamori’s videos and writings will be published. The question arises as to how to design the distance between ‘searchable testimony’ and ‘testimony conveyed through the body.’
• Reception of the Drama: Whether Nagahama’s drama will be perceived as ‘the story of a third-generation hibakusha’ or consumed as ‘a drama set in Hiroshima.’ Audience reactions will serve as indicators of the current state of inheritance.
• Full Text of the 80th Anniversary Declaration: From the outline to the full text. Which words will remain and which will be cut? The editing process of the declaration itself reflects the judgment of ‘what to prioritize in narration.’
• Conference of TPNW Signatory States: The possibility of Japan’s observer participation in the third conference scheduled for 2025. The distance between the words of the declaration and the actions of the state will be made visible once again.

The speakers change. The methods of delivery change. But as long as there are those who have decided to ‘yet, we will speak,’ words will continue to seek the next body to walk with.