• Sat. Nov 23rd, 2024

Japan Subculture Research Center

A guide to the Japanese underworld, Japanese pop-culture, yakuza and everything dark under the sun.

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2 thoughts on “Have you been a victim of sexual assault in Japan? How did police respond?”
  1. Many times. The first ever time it happened was when I had my breasts grabbed in a club and I complained to Security. The perpetrators denied it and the bouncer then told me he can’t do anything if they deny it.
    From this time onwards I had to accept that being groped when in a bar or club or even walking past a group of males at night as extremely likely and it’s their right to do so. Although I was insistent on keeping positive about Japan and thought maybe this is the culture for this one town I was in and waited for it to prove me wrong.
    Later on I was attacked by a male friend of a friend in a bar. The bar owner who witnessed it and a friend of that man had to pull him off me. From the bar owner and the other friend of mine who knew the attacker I had his full name and address to give to the police. The police took photos of my bruises but said they wouldn’t call the perpetrator in for questioning. They told me if they did then he would deny it and my life would be made more dangerous for him finding out that I’d reported it. That was the end of it. From then on I had to accept that I had no protection over my body if I lived in Japan.
    A few months later an older man pushed me off a crowded train towards shinjuku. I went to report this to the police at the station when I arrived. When I did he said “and?”. He then asked me if I had been drinking, why I’m coming to shinjuku at night, why I’m dressed that way, do I work here. He said there must’ve been a reason why he’d done this and he can’t ask that man for his side of the story. He asked if there were others on the train (of course, this is the last train to shinjuku) then told me if there were others on the train they would have stopped this man from being aggressive towards me. We all know, especially the policeman, that this is a lie. He said “then tell me the route of the train you were on and which station he’d pushed me off at”. After I told him, he immediately told me there was no such station on the line I’d been riding so I must be drunk or lying. I insisted this was where he’d pushed me off at. Eventually he admitted that this was in fact the train route. He told me he was sorry that happened to me and then I told him I’d like to make a report and he suddenly became extremely irate: yelling, cursing me, telling me I was drunk. I started crying, I called my mother to speak to him and help diffuse the situation between himself and I. He told me to write down all my details on a piece of paper so he can write the report. He threw the paper on the desk and threw the pen aggressively onto the space in front of me on the table, nearly hitting my face. After I was done he told me to leave. I asked isnt he going to write the report and he told me “don’t be silly! I don’t write the report in front of you”. I left the police box and came back a couple of minutes later saying I’d like to wait inside until my friend arrives. He laughed and said “you want to see me write the report don’t you?” Throws a piece of report paper on the desk scribbles something then flings it aside. He tried to joke around with me and showed irritation at me looking down.

    A few months later a young, American artist in a Koenji bar who was not drunk casually told me “you have big boobs” then played with them. I stood paralyzed.

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