Tomoko Watanabe, Part 1

Activities in Asia are based on trust

Tomoko Watanabe (left) thanks a girl who gave her a gift at a school in the Shamshatoo refugee camp. (April 2007)

Tomoko Watanabe

Born in the city of Hiroshima in 1953. While serving as the managing director of a law office, she has been involved in activities concerned with international understanding and peace education for citizens and children in Hiroshima and trainees from overseas. In 1989 she founded the non-profit organization ANT-Hiroshima and assumed the role of executive director. She provides support to those working for peace and began offering assistance to Afghan refugees in 2002 and aid for reconstruction in the earthquake-damaged Kashmir region of Pakistan in 2005. She lives in the city of Hiroshima and is a member of the city's board of education.

I am the executive director of ANT-Hiroshima, a non-profit organization. With the aim of "building peace among individuals and in the world at large," we seek to expand our network of people and NGOs in the world, particularly in Asia. We are involved in such areas as international cooperation, peace education, and peace culture exchange by making effective use of Hiroshima's experience and conveying Hiroshima's wish for peace.

In one sense, "ANT" denotes the insect because the name represents our belief that, as individuals, our power is small, but by joining together, we can move the world. At the same time, it stands for "Asian Network of Trust." We believe that the foundation of all our activities is the feeling of trust between people and we have been engaged in activities in conflict areas and areas hit by natural disasters for more than 20 years.

One of our main activities involves providing support to Afghan refugees, particularly the people living at the Shamshatoo refugee camp, located about 35 kilometers southwest of Peshawar, a frontier city in northwest Pakistan. The children there have been ignored and they've received no aid from anyone. They're desperate to help support their families by weaving carpets, despite the scratches they suffer to their hands. Girls marry at 12 or 13 years old, become pregnant, and raise their children in poverty. In the event of health emergencies when they give birth to their babies, there are no doctors nearby to help and they sometimes die in childbirth.

During my third visit to the refugee camp, a girl I had met before beckoned me to come close. She removed a necklace from around her neck and put it on me, telling me, "A lot of people visit, but no one visits us more than once. But you come back again and again. I love you, Tomoko." Her words made me happy and I took her hand to share my joy with her.

That moment occurred following a health survey that we conducted among the refugees. There were so many problems involving the people's health that it was devastating to me because I felt so powerless to help them. I didn't know where to start or how to find funds. I was sorry that all I could do was be there with them.

However, the girl's words to me, "I love you," created a small bond between us, and made me feel that "I may be powerless, but the people here accept me." That feeling gave me the courage to continue our efforts and not give up.

I vowed to start from where I could. I would listen to the local people speak, eat meals with them, dance together with them. I would return as often as I could and build many friendships. I would creep on the ground like an ant and try to resolve the problems one by one, working in cooperation with others who share the same goals.

Ten years have passed since then and we are now building a small clinic there with our treasured friends of that area. In spite of conflict and flooding in that area, the construction of the building is gradually progressing. The clinic will be completed soon, and then managed by local people.

Through this project, I was able to meet many dependable friends both in Afghanistan and Pakistan. I can't accomplish anything on my own. But with such friends, where we help and encourage one other, I won't give up and I can keep moving forward. The "hope" and "courage" I feel comes from the ties of trust that I have formed with these people.