I came across a translated thread from X about what happened inside shelters after the Kumamoto earthquake, and honestly, it left me feeling heavy. (The original link is at the end.)
The purpose behind Gang-Hu Civil Defense Corps’ “Home Fortress” course has always been clear:
- If you can, don’t go to a shelter.
- To avoid going to a shelter, you should prepare thoroughly.
Of course, if an earthquake or any disaster makes your home unlivable, going to a shelter is pretty much your only option. But what about the other case — when your home is still livable?
We want you to be able to, in that situation, get through whatever disaster it is in your own home, even with limited resources.
And if it really does come down to it and you have to leave, we want you to already have your emergency bag ready, and ideally to head somewhere you know and trust — a friend or relative’s place.
A public shelter should always be the last option.
What weighs on me is that when we were designing this course, we naively assumed that ill intent would only come from an infiltrating fifth column, or a pro-China neighborhood chief.
But reality is crueler than we imagined.
Whether out of coercion or moral pressure, your own preparation might end up being the very thing that breaks you.
Why is it that even though I prepared thoroughly, I’m not allowed to keep it for myself?
Why does what I prepared for my own child have to be shared with other children, while my own child doesn’t know where their next meal is coming from?
It’s not that other people’s children don’t matter — but why?
After the Kumamoto earthquake, Japanese social media users shared what they went through inside the shelters.
One certified disaster-prevention volunteer (bosaishi) relayed something a firefighter told her: during a disaster, if you don’t hide your power bank and your food well, people will keep coming to ask for it.
She figured, worst case, she’d just refuse, and if someone tried to take it by force she’d use a personal safety alarm to fend them off.
But the firefighter’s answer was — in some past shelters, whatever supplies came in just got pooled together and forcibly split evenly, on the grounds of “making up for the people who didn’t prepare.”
Someone else who lived through the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake put it even more bluntly: in a shelter, even if someone asks “did you bring food or water?”, never say yes.
Because the next sentence will be “please donate it for everyone,” and it’ll be said in a way that’s hard to refuse.
His conclusion: however much you’ve prepared, don’t let anyone know.
That bosaishi added one more thing: a shelter is run by the local community mutual-aid association, and the rules are whatever that association says they are.
Whether you get to keep your own things often comes down to who’s running things on the ground — and whether you know them.
As long as your home is still livable, staying home is usually the best choice.
A familiar space, supplies you control yourself, the ability to decide who gets to come in — all of these become luxuries once things fall into chaos.
The moment you leave home, you might lose everything all at once.
Home isn’t always something you can hold onto.
If it’s destroyed, catches fire, or becomes a high-risk warzone, you still have to leave when it’s time to leave.
But even when you have to leave, where you go still makes a difference.
An unfamiliar large public shelter, versus a group of people you know and trust — these are two very different situations.
In the safety ranking we recommend, a friend or relative’s home, or your own civil defense group’s shelter, both come before an unfamiliar public shelter.
The rules are set by whoever’s in charge — so you’d better know that person.
And trust can’t be conjured up on the spot in the middle of a disaster.
It’s built up bit by bit, in ordinary times.
Have you ever been to your neighborhood office? How many of your neighbors do you actually know? Whenever there’s a community gathering or event, are you there?
So beyond thoroughly preparing your “supplies,” maybe younger generations also need to try getting a little more involved in the community and neighborhood where they live.
Get to know your neighborhood chief or village head. Find out who’s often around at the community activity center.
Who seems to know everyone in the community? Who’s always the one warmly greeting people?
They might not work for the district office, but because they know everyone, when something actually happens, they’ll end up playing a crucial role at the shelter.
Civil defense can’t stay online.
Even just going out to join a few activities with a self-training civil defense group, getting to know a few real teammates — that might just be the hand that reaches you first in a crisis.
And you — do you know them?
Source material: Chen Ji-ning’s Facebook post “#Reiwa 8 Kumamoto Earthquake”; original X thread by いくみ⛑️防災士 (@193fp).
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/chen.ji.ning.415415/posts/pfbid0HJGHg56FhFmSS6m6hznFYyDh4XcFuLMq3YZZjDpaFNgQRBantPbRVZ4mVLr7Bi1hl
X: https://x.com/193fp/status/2085218861268533494