Like the head of residents’ associations everywhere, Yoshio Ookouchi is not entirely happy. He grumbles about the poor bus service for the older people who make up the majority of tenants in two blocks of flats and 14 houses on his estate, owned and run by the local authority.

It’s not easy, he points out, for residents to get to the nearest supermarket or doctor. “From our community viewpoint, we have been a little disappointed by the services provided by the city,” says Ookouchi. “We understand they have been busy, but we feel there is room for improvement.”

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Yoshio Ookouchi, head of the residents’ association in Usuiso, Japan. Photograph: The Guardian

That may sound like the kind of issue raised by any residents’ association. But where Ookouchi lives is different. He represents 103 households in Usuiso, which, until March 2011, was a small beachside village in the Fukushima prefecture, or county, just 65km south of the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear reactor. On 11 March 2011, life in Usuiso was changed forever by the earthquake and massive tsunami that devastated much of the Japanese east coast. There used to be 350 houses down by the beach in Usuiso. They were nearly all torn down, as was the local school. By the end of that afternoon, 115 people were dead or missing.



On a bleak, cold January day in Usuiso, almost six years after that devastating afternoon, what used to be a beautiful curved sandy beach is now a construction site. Bulldozers are busy shifting earth to the top of the new earthworks intended to provide protection against future flooding. On the other side, inland and away from the sea, new houses will be built along with a school.

Japan marks fifth anniversary of tsunami and nuclear disaster Read more

In the meantime, many of the former residents from the village are living half a mile up the road, in the new public housing built by the Iwaki City government as temporary dwellings for those hit by the disaster. These temporary homes, which are small but well-built flats and houses, took three years to develop, not least because of the difficulty of finding the title holders to the land, many of whom had perished in the disaster. But that wasn’t the only problem, explains Koiso Matsudo, deputy manager of housing and maintenance at the city authority. Not only did the cost of material and labour go up because of all the reconstruction taking place across the region, but it was also difficult to get enough construction workers. “Because of the negative press [following the nuclear disaster], construction workers were afraid to come to this area,” he says. Radiation levels have been monitored closely since the disaster and have not deterred many of the former residents of Usuiso from wanting to stay in their village.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Koiso Matsudo, deputy manager of housing and maintenance, Iwaki City, in one of the temporary flats built for Usuiso’s residents. Photograph: The Guardian

Building began in June 2013 and a year later, people were able to move into the 85 flats and 14 houses, with priority given to older people and families. Rents vary according to tenants’ income. The lowest rent is Y3,100 (£22) a month, and the highest is Y67,000 (£480).

Ookuchi explains that there was a strong desire on the part of residents to stay in the village, despite the lack of amenities. Matsudo agrees. “This wasn’t a convenient area, even before the earthquake,” he says.



But the city government was determined to listen to residents and accommodate their wishes as much as possible. More than five years on, some of the householders who lost their houses in the disaster have taken financial compensation and moved away. However, Matsudo says many of the elderly residents would not receive enough to be able to rebuild their own houses or raise a mortgage. The slow rate of rebuilding permanent homes has been frustrating for everyone, he acknowledges. “If all had gone well [with the construction of permanent replacement homes], there should have been no need for this kind of housing,” he says. “But we didn’t have that luxury.”

Despite all the difficulties, many of the former Usuiso residents continue to stay and now they are not just rebuilding their community, but strengthening it.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest One of the two blocks of flats providing temporary housing for Usuiso residents displaced by the disaster of March 2011. Photograph: The Guardian

Those who lived in this small village before the disaster were pretty independent-minded, says Ookouchi. Now, they have been brought together. Events run by the community include a local festival that college and high school students help organise, bringing a much-welcomed shot of youthful spirit into the village. There are pictures of the older and young people, all with beaming smiles, on the wall of the community centre that has been built as part of the public housing. There’s a regular newsletter for residents and a small, moveable shrine.

And while the bus service still isn’t great, a local supermarket sends a four-tonne truck twice a week with supplies for the local residents to buy. “My personal view is that the bonds and unity between the residents has got better,” says Ookouchi. “People used to be independent and not as involved in local events as residents in other districts. So there have been some positives.”

Jane Dudman was in Japan as part of a Japan Local Government Centre study tour. Her expenses in Japan were paid for by the Council of Local Authorities for International Relations, which had no say in the content of this article.

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