The atomic bombs dropped by the United States on Japan tore through the fabric of time, ending World War II, ushering in the Atomic Age, and jolting the world into the Cold War.
While world leaders struggled to process the shockwaves from Hiroshima and Nagasaki – before these events were etched into the annals of civilisation – countless victims on the ground experienced an immeasurably intense tragedy.
“I believe he was given a responsibility by God to survive and tell the story of what happened. That’s why he lived,” said Dzulkifli Abdul Razak, recalling the story of his father, Abdul Razak Abdul Hamid – the only Malayan citizen to have survived the world’s first nuclear disaster that claimed over 140,000 lives.
Razak, then a 19-year-old student from Penang, had been on a scholarship from the Japanese government to study at Hiroshima University and was in a lecture room when the bomb went off.
“My father said at first, everything went pitch black. Then there was a flash, like lightning. Then black again. Only after that did the building collapse. The roof came down but didn’t crush him. He was unconscious under that roof for a whole day.”
Razak then woke up in what remained of the classroom, sunlight streaming through the rubble. “He crawled out, following the sunlight, but could not recognise any of the buildings around him. It looked like a barren, desolate plain.”
With his first instinct being to return to his lodgings, Razak headed towards a river near the campus that could guide him back to where he lived.
Walking along that river opened his eyes to the consequences of that decision made in Washington that day.
“Bodies were scattered everywhere,” Dzulkifli said. “Along the river, bodies had been swept downstream. People were suffering – and everyone was desperately thirsty.
“My father brought them water but, after they drank, they all died – either from radiation or the shock of the difference in temperature between the water and their bodies.”
Dzulkifli remembers his father telling him that the clothing of survivors had been fused to their skin due to the intense heat. “It was as if your body bore the pattern of the clothes you were wearing.
“Some people would pull at their own hair in agony and it would fall out.”
These horrifying memories were retold time and again by Razak – stories passed down to Dzulkifli, now emeritus professor at Universiti Sains Malaysia.
“Every Aug 6, my father would gather us siblings and retell what happened on the day the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima in 1945,” said Dzulkifli.
Razak’s connection to Japan never faded; after his return from Hiroshima, and especially after his story became known, their family home was rarely without visitors.
“Our house became like a site for visits. My mother would prepare traditional snacks, and guests would often bring gifts.”
Razak died on July 18, 2013, less than two weeks after his 88th birthday.
Dzulkifli describes his father as a deeply patient man whose stories always carried a message that still rings true today amidst ongoing political strife, racial rhetoric, and societal discord.
“Don’t let our lives be filled with conflict,” Dzulkifli recalled his father’s wise words. “Yes, Malaysia is peaceful today without bombs exploding, but in the hearts and behaviours of some, the seeds of war still grow.”
Two other Malayans – Nik Yusof Nik Ali and Syed Omar Syed Mohammad Alsagoff – had also been in Japan during the tragedy. They died at just 17 years old from radiation exposure while attempting to leave the campus.
Nik Yusof was buried in Nagano, and Syed Omar in Kyoto.
