After the War: The Story of Sadae Kasaoka
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In remembrance of the attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, which mark the 81st anniversary this August, we bring another edition of the series After the War: Stories of Those Who Lived Through It, featuring Hiroshima atomic bombing survivor Sadae Kasaoka. Today, the woman who was only 12 years old on August 6, 1945, shares her testimony accompanied by her niece, who provides simultaneous interpretation of her story.
Kasaoka’s story holds special significance for Dhesarme, as it was during the Hiroshima ICAN Academy on Nuclear Weapons and Global Security 2025 that we had the unique opportunity to meet survivors of the atomic bombing and hear firsthand testimonies about the humanitarian consequences of the attacks, including Sadae’s story.
The Morning of August 6, 1945
On the morning of the explosion, Sadae had stayed home with her grandmother because, that day, she was not required to take part in the community labor she usually performed. Her parents had left early for work and were very close to the hypocenter of the blast. She recalls stepping outside for only a moment to hang up some laundry and, upon returning, seeing an intense orange flash in the sky, followed by a devastating explosion that shattered the windows. Almost immediately, she was thrown to the ground by the force of the blast wave and lost consciousness. When she regained her senses, she reached up to touch her head and felt the sticky texture of her own blood, along with shards of glass. Frightened, she and her grandmother ran toward the neighborhood air raid shelter. When they emerged from the shelter, they realized that nearly all the houses had collapsed. At that moment, Sadae was approximately 3.5 kilometers from the hypocenter.
Kasaoka’s greatest anguish was not knowing what had happened to her parents. Her brother traveled from the city of Kobe to Hiroshima to search for them and discovered that their father had managed to take shelter in the home of close relatives. He brought him home in a two-wheeled handcart. Kasaoka describes that he was unrecognizable: she could identify him only by his voice. His body was swollen, extremely hot, and completely charred. She recalled that “it looked as though someone had poured a can of black paint over him”. His burns became infected, and countless flies landed on his skin and laid eggs on it. Sadae did everything she could to drive them away, but she could not. Whenever she touched her father, his skin would peel away, exposing the raw, reddened flesh beneath.
After the War
After two days of intense suffering, he passed away. The young girl and her siblings cremated his body on the beach, just as many other families did with their loved ones. Sadae spent hours feeding the fire with small branches, unable to let the flames die out because she felt that, once the fire was gone, it would be the final confirmation that her father had truly left her.
She did not receive any news about her mother until August 9. She had been found, but she was already dead. Her body had been cremated, and Kasaoka was only able to say goodbye upon seeing small fragments of her bones inside a small paper bag. From that moment on, she was essentially raised by her older siblings. Sadae recounts that her greatest sadness during childhood was walking through the house, a place so familiar, and no longer being able to call out “Father!” or “Mother!” down the hallways.
As she grew older, Sadae faced severe discrimination. Many employers and potential suitors did not want to associate with atomic bomb survivors because of the social stigma attached to them. Most men had no interest in marrying hibakusha women, and when she eventually married, it was to another survivor. Together they had a son and a daughter. During her pregnancies, her greatest fear was that her children would not be born healthy. The birth of both children in perfect health remains among the happiest days of her life.
However, while the children were still young, Kasaoka’s husband died, most likely as a result of the long-term effects of radiation exposure. Even in the face of yet another painful loss, she says that her love for her children and the strong sense of community in her neighborhood, where everyone was a survivor and supported one another, gave her the strength to carry on. It is a powerful example of the resilience fostered by support networks among survivors of catastrophes such as Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
For many years, Kasaoka avoided sharing her story. The trauma was profound, and the fear of discrimination persisted. The survivor, who for many years could not speak about the tragedy without crying, gradually changed her perspective after seeing other hibakusha begin to tell their own experiences. Sadae says that a key turning point came when she accepted an invitation to speak to students at a school. The reception was warm: many children wrote her letters and made drawings for her, which deeply encouraged her. Since then, she has continued to share her testimony, saying: “I survived, so I must tell my story for those who were not as fortunate.”
When asked about her perception of the United States during her youth and how it changed over time, Sadae explains that, at first, she felt intense anger toward the country, its leaders, and Americans in general. As the years passed, however, she came to understand the complexity of the historical context and recognized that the decision to drop the bomb had been made by a small number of people, and that many American citizens had never agreed with it. Kasaoka says that the first time she visited the United States, a young woman approached her, apologized for the actions of her country, and deeply moved her. Over the course of her life, through encounters with many American activists dedicated to peace and disarmament, her perception of the United States gradually changed.
Júlia Marcon, who had the honor of hearing Sadae’s story of resilience and perseverance in person, reflects:
“Speaking with Sadae Kasaoka was, without a doubt, the most moving and meaningful experience of my life. During the Hiroshima ICAN Academy, we learned that a single bomb transformed the lives of thousands of people in profoundly different ways. Even so, the narratives surrounding Hiroshima are often reduced to numbers and statistics, as though a tragedy of such magnitude could be summarized by data alone. Listening to Mrs. Kasaoka made me understand the vital importance of preserving and passing on the individual and irreplaceable stories of those who survived. I looked into the eyes of a survivor and heard, in her own voice, the human and irreparable suffering these weapons inflict.”
Sadae’s story reminds us why the work carried out to mobilize societies in favor of peacebuilding and disarmament matters. It also demonstrates that nuclear weapons violate fundamental principles of International Humanitarian Law and invites us to reflect on the importance of Humanitarian Disarmament in building a lasting and positive peace. By giving voice to this journey, the project After the War: Stories of Those Who Lived Through It seeks to remind us that behind the statistics are people, families, dreams, and futures that have been silenced.
For Sadae, for all the hibakusha, and for all those who did not survive, giving voice to the intergenerational humanitarian impact of nuclear weapons and striving for their complete abolition is a duty shared by civil society, States, and nations, so that the tragedies of Hiroshima and Nagasaki are never repeated.
Written by: Júlia Marcon
Reviewed by: Fernando Fiala
03/08/2026 BRT
The views expressed in this article are solely those of the authors and do not necessarily represent the institutional position of Dhesarme.
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