In the heart of Hiroshima, where the shadow of history still lingers beneath a canopy of peace, a young boy named Shun Sasaki has taken on a mission far greater than most would ever expect from someone his age. Since he was just seven years old, Shun has been guiding foreign visitors through the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park.
His goal is both simple and profound: to ensure that the memories of war, especially the horrors of the atomic bomb, do not fade with time. Now twelve years old, Shun has already shared his message with over 2,000 visitors from around the world, all delivered in his earnest and evolving English. His voice, though still youthful, carries the weight of a family’s tragedy and the power of a child’s hope for peace.
A Young Voice with a Powerful Legacy
Shun Sasaki’s story begins not with textbooks or lectures, but with the deeply personal history of his own family. His great-grandmother, Yuriko Sasaki, was just a child herself when the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima on August 6, 1945. Her house, located just 1.5 kilometers from the blast’s hypocenter, collapsed from the sheer force of the explosion, burying her under rubble.
Miraculously, she survived that day and went on to live until 2002, having battled and overcome breast cancer along the way, before succumbing to colorectal cancer at the age of 69. For Shun, Yuriko’s story is not just family history—it’s a living reminder of the fragility of peace and the devastation that war brings.
He learned about her experiences from relatives and the stories passed down over the years. But rather than keep that history to himself, Shun Sasaki chose to share it. Donning a yellow bib with the words “Please feel free to talk to me in English!” on his back, he walks the grounds of Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park about twice a month, offering visitors from around the world a chance to hear not only facts and figures but a human story—a family story—that brings the past alive in a uniquely heartfelt way.
About twice a month, 12-year old Shun Sasaki offers free guided tours to visitors of the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park, wearing a yellow bib with the words "Please feel free to talk to me in English!" splashed across the back, according to Reuters. pic.twitter.com/fHTfvpUyg7
— The Washington Post (@washingtonpost) August 1, 2025
His tours are not rehearsed scripts but conversations. Through his guided walks, Shun speaks with humility and sincerity, telling visitors what happened to his great-grandmother, describing the scale of destruction, and emphasizing the lesson he holds dearest: that war is terrible, and peace is precious. “Instead of fighting,” he says, “we should talk to each other about the good things of each other.” It is a message both idealistic and wise, coming from a child but resonating with the gravity of experience and hope.
Keeping Memory Alive in a Modern World
In today’s world, where global conflicts continue and attention spans shrink in the face of endless digital distractions, the past can sometimes feel like a distant, abstract thing. Museums and memorials are vital, but they can also become static—places where information is consumed and quickly forgotten.
Shun’s tours, however, breathe life into history. For many visitors, the experience of hearing a twelve-year-old recount his great-grandmother’s survival—of hearing him speak about nuclear devastation and the importance of peace—leaves a lasting impression that no museum plaque could ever replicate.
One such visitor, Canadian Chris Lowe, noted how deeply moved he was by Shun’s tour. He explained that while reading about the atomic bombing can be informative, hearing it from a child with personal ties to the tragedy made it profoundly more real and emotional. “It surely wrapped it up, brought it home and made it much more personal,” Lowe said. “So it was outstanding for him to share that.”

The importance of such storytelling cannot be overstated. The survivors of the bomb, known as hibakusha, are aging, and with them, the first-hand memories of what happened are gradually disappearing. Shun Sasaki’s efforts are not just a tribute to his great-grandmother—they are a vital part of a broader act of remembrance. By speaking out and guiding others, he is helping to preserve not just a memory but a warning: that we must never again allow such devastation to unfold.
His role as a young guide has not gone unnoticed. In recognition of his dedication, Shun has been selected as one of two children to speak at the upcoming 2025 ceremony marking 80 years since the atomic bomb was dropped. It is a powerful symbol—one generation passing its story to the next, so that memory may endure even after those who lived through the event are gone.
Hope for the Future: A Child’s Message to the World
What makes Shun’s story truly extraordinary is not just his commitment to remembering the past, but his vision for the future. He does not speak in anger or dwell solely on suffering. Instead, he emphasizes dialogue, understanding, and the value of human connection. For Shun, peace is not just the absence of war—it is the presence of kindness, respect, and shared humanity.
His English, though still developing, adds another layer of charm and authenticity to his message. Rather than let language barriers stop him, he invites visitors to talk to him, to ask questions, and to learn. His youthful energy, paired with his deep sense of purpose, has transformed him into an unofficial ambassador for Hiroshima—a role he seems to embrace with both pride and humility.

He has no plans to stop. “The most dangerous thing is to forget what happened a long time ago… so I think we should pass the story to the next generation, and then, never forget it, ever again,” Shun Sasaki said. His words echo the sentiments of hibakusha and peace activists across the globe, distilled through the hopeful lens of a boy who refuses to let the past be forgotten.
As Shun continues his tours, each visitor he meets becomes a witness to his great-grandmother’s story, and by extension, to the tragedy that befell Hiroshima. But more than that, they become bearers of his message—a message that calls for peace not through power, but through understanding.
In a world too often dominated by conflict, where diplomacy sometimes falters and history is too easily rewritten or ignored, it is voices like Shun Sasaki that remind us of the stakes. His small footsteps in the Peace Memorial Park leave behind an enormous legacy—one of remembrance, resilience, and an unwavering call for peace.
And perhaps, in that quiet park where the past meets the present, it is fitting that the loudest voice comes from the youngest among us.