Tomoko Nishijima, a preschool teacher, lives with her two sons and her husband—a family of four. Her husband is Daisuke Nishijima, a union member of Kan-nama who appeared in the 17th volume of the testimony collection.

At first, Tomoko didn’t know much about union activities. Whenever her husband would say something like, “The police might be keeping an eye on us,” she would just brush it off, thinking, “He’s probably just been influenced by some TV drama.”

Then, one morning, the intercom at her house rang. The police had come to arrest her husband.

She must protect her children, who are feeling unsettled. Tomoko makes a promise with her two elementary school-aged sons.

A promise between mother and sons: “See you later!” in a loud voice

Early in the morning, the intercom rang: ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong. My husband suddenly started to get flustered. I guess he must have known what was going on—that the police had come. Having witnessed the oppression firsthand, I think he had realized it, but I had no idea at all.

At the time, my children were in fourth and sixth grade. Back then, I was more worried about how this would affect them than about what would happen to my husband. I kept thinking, “What if they get teased at school?” or “What if they get bullied?” My sole desire was to protect them, so I told myself I couldn’t let myself panic.

So I told the police, “So you’re taking my husband away, huh? Okay, okay, I understand.” But I asked them, “Please avoid the time when the children are walking to school with their schoolmates—I just want you to promise me that,” and then I had the children get ready for school.

I believe the children were really shaken up. They were probably wondering, “Where is dad going?” They couldn’t put it into words, but they were very confused. So I told them, “I don’t know where dad is going. I don’t know, but I know for sure we’ll see him again. So today, please say ‘see you later’ as loud as you can. Otherwise, dad will get worried too,” I said. “Let’s say ‘see you later’ really loud and cheerfully, and then go to school.”

I also said, “Even if there’s something worrying you, don’t mention it at school today. I don’t know how that would turn out. I’ll explain everything to you later, so just go to school full of energy today, come home, and then we’ll talk about it.”

Then, both of them said, “Dad, see you later!” in surprisingly loud voices and headed out.

“I didn’t want to be defeated by the police,” sending her husband off in high spirits

After seeing the kids off, I decided to hold my head high.

It’s a silly thing, but I thought getting flustered would make me feel like I lost. I didn’t want to be defeated by the police who showed up out of the blue.

So I asked the police things like, “Does he really not have to take all his stuff with him?” “Can I leave this here?” “Should I pack that in too?” “Do you need anything?” “Should I carry your stuff?” “Is it okay if I take a picture?” “Huh? You’re not going to handcuff him?”—all in a slightly silly tone.

I think my husband was feeling a lot of things too, so I figured the only thing to do was to make sure he left in good spirits. For some reason, I felt the need to emphasize, “I’m totally fine!” After all, I didn’t want to feel down or admit defeat. So I sent him off with something like, “Have fun! It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience!”

Kyoko Amakawa, Prosecutor at the Osaka District Public Prosecutors Office: “Is your marriage okay?”

At the time, I was working as a preschool teacher, and my cell phone would just keep ringing nonstop while I was on the job. People around me were so concerned that they’d even say, “Shouldn’t you answer that?”

I stepped away from work to answer the phone, and it was Prosecutor Kyoko Amakawa from the Osaka District Public Prosecutors Office. She asked questions such as, “Are you aware of what your husband was doing?” and “Do you understand the significance of being a union member?” Since it seemed like the conversation would be lengthy, I said, “I’m currently at work—can I call you back?” She then responded, “If you delay answering our questions, his release date will be postponed—is that okay with you?” From my point of view, the call felt very intense and pressuring.

“Are the arrested members in touch with each other’s families?” or “Are you still involved with the union?” Eventually, she even asked questions like, “What’s your daily life like?” and “What kind of husband and father is he?”

At the time, I really didn’t understand anything about the union, so even though I wanted to answer the questions, I just couldn’t. I was like, “I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

Then she asked, “Is your marriage really okay under these circumstances?” All I could say was something like, “If you’re worried, you’re welcome to come take a look.” When she asked, “Have you two been fighting lately?” I replied, “He came home after buying cigarettes and forgot to take his change, so I got really mad at him.”

Perhaps because I couldn’t give Prosecutor Amakawa the answer she was expecting, she got really angry. She hung up on me, as if to say, “That’s enough!”

Discussion with her children: “Sometimes innocent people end up taking the blame”

After my husband was arrested, my son, who was in sixth grade, started looking into the matter.

I assumed that since my husband acted on his own accord, he would be accountable for his actions, regardless of whether it was a crime. I left it completely in his hands. I was confident he hadn’t done anything wrong and believed the truth would eventually be revealed. I thought to myself, “In the meantime, I’ll look after the family—please don’t worry,” but my oldest child conducted extensive research on the issue.

He explained his findings to me, “Mom, this is why he got arrested.” I replied, “Well, then I’ll look into it too,” and we started researching it together.

Whenever we opened YouTube to look into it, we’d come across videos that seemed to have been edited with malicious intent, but my oldest son watched them all anyway. As we watched together, the two of us would discuss things like, “I don’t think this is right.” Starting from the point where we’d say, “So why was dad arrested? I don’t really get it,” my son began bringing up topics like politics. We’d talk together, saying things like, “Maybe in this world, sometimes innocent people end up taking the blame,” or “Maybe politics is what’s causing that—maybe justice doesn’t always win out in this world after all.”

In the end, we didn’t know for sure what was right or wrong, but we came to the conclusion that “dad really wasn’t at fault, yet he got arrested.” We decided to just wait until he came home.

Around that time at school, my oldest son started behaving a little strange, and my second son would suddenly burst into tears during class, but they never once mentioned their dad. The school contacted me to ask, “Do you know anything about this?” However, since the children were trying so hard to keep up their lies, I couldn’t just blurt out the truth, so I just dodged the question by saying, “Perhaps I’ve been too angry lately.”

Attending father’s trial while he was in handcuffs

My two sons went to observe my husband’s trial. The lawyer was concerned, saying, “Your father will be coming out in handcuffs, so this might not be a place for children,” but my sons insisted, “We can’t see dad unless we go there.” We hadn’t been able to see him for a long time, after all.

I thought they shouldn’t go see him if he’s done something wrong, so I told them, “since he hasn’t done anything wrong and is being handcuffed by the police, this is a rare opportunity—so go check it out,” and sent them off.

I couldn’t take time off work, so I couldn’t go; instead, my husband’s coworker took them there. It seems it turned out to be quite an experience. People told me that the children were all crying their hearts out, my husband was crying his eyes out too, and it was just like a scene from a TV drama.

My older child had studied beforehand, so it seemed he understood everything well. My younger child was tired and fell asleep as soon as he got home. I could tell that both of them trusted their dad.

Joining a labor union as a childcare worker

I am now a member of a labor union as well. It is the Kansai General Branch of the Solidarity Labor Union, which has close ties to Kan-nama.

Many childcare workers aren’t union members—or rather, many aren’t even really aware that unions exist in the first place. I was the same way; working long hours and unpaid overtime was typical, and the only options seemed to be either endure it or look for another job.  That said, I was surrounded by great bosses and coworkers, so I actually enjoyed my work.

What motivated me to join the union was my role in establishing a new daycare center. I was employed by an organization to assist with launching the daycare, but I was unexpectedly dismissed only three months after it started operating. I believe the organization lacked the necessary experience to set up a daycare, so they likely only needed my skills temporarily. I suspect they intended to manage the center on their own once it was in operation.

After much deliberation, I decided that becoming a union member and fighting back might bring about some change, so I joined the union for the first time. Although I was unable to return to work, it was decided that the company would pay me a settlement.

I don’t think I would have ever realized anything about the arrest or the union if I’d been living a normal life. I believe it was a good opportunity to become aware of those things.

[Reporter’s Postscript] I want to meet and talk with Prosecutor Kyoko Amakawa / Reporter Nanami Nakagawa

After her husband’s arrest, Prosecutor Kyoko Amakawa of the Osaka District Public Prosecutors Office called Tomoko Nishijima on her cell phone.

Prosecutor Amakawa’s name came up repeatedly during interviews with Kan-nama members and their families.

“She asked me if I knew what he was doing, as if he were doing something wrong behind my back.”

“She urged me that if things continued this way, my husband wouldn’t be released—and told me to convince him to withdraw from the union.”

In an attempt to steer the situation in the direction the prosecution intends, she was calling family members using contact information obtained through her work and trying to upset them. Among the Kan-nama members indicted by the prosecution are those accused of attempted coercion—but isn’t that actually a crime that applies to the prosecution side?

However, Tomoko Nishijima did not act as Prosecutor Amakawa had intended. She did not urge her husband to leave the union, and she responded calmly to her sudden phone call.

It was Prosecutor Amakawa who lost her composure.

Frustrated that she couldn’t get the information she wanted, she snapped, “That’s enough!” Even though she kept calling repeatedly until Tomoko, who was at work, finally answered, she was the one who hung up. It’s rare for a grown adult to get angry and hang up on someone like that.

To put it another way, Tomoko’s reaction must have been unusual. Up until now, perhaps the other person had always done exactly as she wanted, allowing her to orchestrate incidents smoothly.

I would like to interview Prosecutor Amakawa. I want to meet with her in person and verify the facts one by one.

(Originally published in Japanese on June 25, 2025. Translation by Mana Shibata.)

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