|  | 
| Fukushima residents protests end of evacuee subsidies | 
Saturday will mark six years since the 2011 Tohoku Earthquake and Tsunami.  It marks as well the Fukushima Nuclear Disaster which caused the evacuation of over 150,000 residents of not only Fukushima City, but Fukushima Prefecture residents also.
At the end of this month, housing subsidies run out for those who fled the 
Fukushima nuclear disaster from areas other than the 
government-designated evacuation zones, and as the clock ticks down, 
evacuees have had to decide whether to return or move once again.
Many of these so-called voluntary evacuees are mothers seeking to 
avoid risking their children’s health while their husbands remain in 
radiation-hit Fukushima Prefecture, according to freelance journalist 
Chia Yoshida.
This is why the term “voluntary evacuee” is misleading, as it gives 
the impression that they fled Fukushima for selfish reasons, Yoshida 
told a news conference in January in Tokyo.
At the same news conference, another journalist proposed using the term “domestic refugee” to describe them.
The Fukushima Prefectural Government has been paying the cost of 
public and private housing for voluntary evacuees under the Disaster 
Relief Act since the reactors melted down at the Fukushima No. 1 nuclear
 plant after the March 2011 earthquake and tsunami.
The number of evacuees from the disaster, including those from 
mandatory evacuation areas, peaked at 164,865 as of May 2012, according 
to the prefectural government.
Its latest tally, conducted earlier this year, shows that 11,321 out 
of the 12,239 voluntary evacuee households had already decided where to 
live after April, while 250 had not.
It was back in June 2015 when Fukushima announced the plan to end the
 rent subsidy this month, saying that decontamination work in the 
prefecture had advanced and food safety had been achieved.
Still, the central government’s evacuation orders have not been 
lifted in “difficult-to-return zones,” which include the towns of Futaba
 and Okuma, home to the crippled nuclear facility.
Those no-entry areas are subject to radiation of over 50 
millisieverts per year, compared with the government’s long-term annual 
target of less than 1 millisievert after decontamination work.
Rika Mashiko, 46, is a voluntary evacuee living in Tokyo. She has 
decided to rent a house near the Fukushima-paid apartment where she and 
her daughter, now in elementary school, are currently living so that her
 daughter will not miss her friends.
Mashiko and her daughter fled Fukushima about two months after the 
nuclear crisis started, leaving behind her husband in their house in 
Miharu, located in the center of the prefecture.
Mashiko said many women evacuated from Fukushima with their children, compelled by their instinct as mothers to avoid danger.
“Maybe nothing might have happened, but if it had, it would have been too late,” she said.
Mashiko, who first moved to a house in Higashiyamato in eastern Tokyo
 that was leased for free, said mothers like her who fled the nuclear 
disaster feel they shouldn’t have to pay their housing costs and are 
angry at being “victims of the state’s nuclear policy.”
Many voluntary evacuees are financially struggling as they have to 
cover the double living costs in their hometowns, where typically the 
fathers remain, and the new places where the mothers and children moved.
In that sense, the free housing has been a “lifeline” for them, 
particularly in the Tokyo metropolitan area where housing costs are 
high, according to journalist Yoshida.
In an attempt to extend support to those families, Makoto Yamada, a 
veteran pediatrician in Tokyo, established a fund with ¥3 million out of
 his own pocket to help them rent new houses, for example by covering 
the deposit.
The initiative was the latest example of the support he has been 
providing to evacuees. Three months after the disaster, he held a 
counseling session in the city of Fukushima that attracted some 400 
people concerned about radiation exposure. He has continued to hold 
similar sessions in Tokyo.
Yamada, 75, says poor understanding of the plight of voluntary 
evacuees has also played a role in bullying cases involving evacuee 
children that have been reported across Japan since last year.
In one high-profile case, a first-year junior high school student in 
Yokohama was called a “germ” at school, in reference to his supposed 
exposure to radiation.
Society appears to generally feel that voluntary evacuees have 
received a lot of money on top of the one-time compensation payment made
 by Tokyo Electric Power Company Holdings Inc., the operator of 
Fukushima No. 1.
Yamada says if people understood that voluntary evacuees had no wish 
to leave but felt they had to, such bullying would disappear.
The first financial support from Yamada’s fund went to 10 mothers and
 their children on Jan. 15. He was surprised to see the recipients shed 
tears of joy upon receiving ¥200,000 or ¥300,000 each.
Yamada said the government has tried to reduce the number of evacuees
 from Fukushima in order to claim that their ranks have decreased and 
that the disaster has been overcome.
Yoshida echoed that view, describing the voluntary evacuees as 
“people who will be eliminated from history as the government seeks to 
trivialize the damage from radiation contamination and say their 
evacuation was unnecessary.”
As long as there are evacuees living outside Fukushima, they will 
remain a symbol showing the situation has yet to be solved, Yamada said.
“If you say ‘we will not forget about Fukushima,’ you should never 
forget the terror of radiation, bearing in mind that people will not 
live in safety as long as nuclear plants exist in the world,” he said. 
“So, I want to continue to think about the evacuees.”
Kyodo