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 He isn't a social worker. He's a recruiter. The men in Sendai
Station are potential laborers that Sasa can dispatch to contractors
in Japan's nuclear disaster zone for a bounty of $100 a head.
"This is how labor recruiters like me come in every day," Sasa says,
as he strides past men sleeping on cardboard and clutching at their
coats against the early winter cold.
It's also how Japan finds people willing to accept minimum wage for
one of the most undesirable jobs in the industrialized world:
working on the $35 billion, taxpayer-funded effort to clean up
radioactive fallout across an area of northern Japan larger than
Hong Kong.
Almost three years ago, a massive earthquake and tsunami leveled
villages across Japan's northeast coast and set off multiple
meltdowns at the Fukushima nuclear plant. Today, the most ambitious
radiation cleanup ever attempted is running behind schedule. The
effort is being dogged by both a lack of oversight and a shortage of
workers, according to a Reuters analysis of contracts and interviews
with dozens of those involved.
In January, October and November, Japanese gangsters were arrested
on charges of infiltrating construction giant Obayashi Corp's
network of decontamination subcontractors and illegally sending
workers to the government-funded project.
In the October case, homeless men were rounded up at Sendai's train
station by Sasa, then put to work clearing radioactive soil and
debris in Fukushima City for less than minimum wage, according to
police and accounts of those involved. The men reported up through a
chain of three other companies to Obayashi, Japan's second-largest
construction company.
Obayashi, which is one of more than 20 major contractors involved in
government-funded radiation removal projects, has not been accused
of any wrongdoing. But the spate of arrests has shown that members
of Japan's three largest criminal syndicates — Yamaguchi-gumi,
Sumiyoshi-kai and Inagawa-kai — had set up black-market recruiting
agencies under Obayashi.
"We are taking it very seriously that these incidents keep happening
one after another," said Junichi Ichikawa, a spokesman for Obayashi.
He said the company tightened its scrutiny of its lower-tier
subcontractors in order to shut out gangsters, known as the yakuza.
"There were elements of what we had been doing that did not go far
enough."
OVERSIGHT LEFT TO TOP CONTRACTORS
Part of the problem in monitoring taxpayer money in Fukushima is the
sheer number of companies involved in decontamination, extending
from the major contractors at the top to tiny subcontractors many
layers below them. The total number has not been announced. But in
the 10 most contaminated towns and a highway that runs north past
the gates of the wrecked plant in Fukushima, Reuters found 733
companies were performing work for the Ministry of Environment,
according to partial contract terms released by the ministry in
August under Japan's information disclosure law.
Reuters found 56 subcontractors listed on environment ministry
contracts worth a total of $2.5 billion in the most radiated areas
of Fukushima that would have been barred from traditional public
works because they had not been vetted by the construction ministry.
The 2011 law that regulates decontamination put control under the
environment ministry, the largest spending program ever managed by
the 10-year-old agency. The same law also effectively loosened
controls on bidders, making it possible for firms to win radiation
removal contracts without the basic disclosure and certification
required for participating in public works such as road
construction.
Reuters also found five firms working for the Ministry of
Environment that could not be identified. They had no construction
ministry registration, no listed phone number or website, and
Reuters could not find a basic corporate registration disclosing
ownership. There was also no record of the firms in the database of
Japan's largest credit research firm, Teikoku Databank.
"As a general matter, in cases like this, we would have to start by
looking at whether a company like this is real," said Shigenobu Abe,
a researcher at Teikoku Databank. "After that, it would be necessary
to look at whether this is an active company and at the background
of its executive and directors."
Responsibility for monitoring the hiring, safety records and
suitability of hundreds of small firms involved in Fukushima's
decontamination rests with the top contractors, including Kajima
Corp, Taisei Corp and Shimizu Corp, officials said.
"In reality, major contractors manage each work site," said Hide
Motonaga, deputy director of the radiation cleanup division of the
environment ministry.
But, as a practical matter, many of the construction companies
involved in the cleanup say it is impossible to monitor what is
happening on the ground because of the multiple layers of contracts
for each job that keep the top contractors removed from those doing
the work.
"If you started looking at every single person, the project wouldn't
move forward. You wouldn't get a tenth of the people you need," said
Yukio Suganuma, president of Aisogo Service, a construction company
that was hired in 2012 to clean up radioactive fallout from streets
in the town of Tamura.
The sprawl of small firms working in Fukushima is an unintended
consequence of Japan's legacy of tight labor-market regulations
combined with the aging population's deepening shortage of workers.
Japan's construction companies cannot afford to keep a large payroll
and dispatching temporary workers to construction sites is
prohibited. As a result, smaller firms step into the gap, promising
workers in exchange for a cut of their wages.
Below these official subcontractors, a shadowy network of gangsters
and illegal brokers who hire homeless men has also become active in
Fukushima. Ministry of Environment contracts in the most radioactive
areas of Fukushima prefecture are particularly lucrative because the
government pays an additional $100 in hazard allowance per day for
each worker.
Takayoshi Igarashi, a lawyer and professor at Hosei University, said
the initial rush to find companies for decontamination was
understandable in the immediate aftermath of the disaster when the
priority was emergency response. But he said the government now
needs to tighten its scrutiny to prevent a range of abuses,
including bid rigging.
"There are many unknown entities getting involved in decontamination
projects," said Igarashi, a former advisor to ex-Prime Minister
Naoto Kan. "There needs to be a thorough check on what companies are
working on what, and when. I think it's probably completely lawless
if the top contractors are not thoroughly checking."
The Ministry of Environment announced on Thursday that work on the
most contaminated sites would take two to three years longer than
the original March 2014 deadline. That means many of the more than
60,000 who lived in the area before the disaster will remain unable
to return home until six years after the disaster.
Earlier this month, Abe, who pledged his government would "take full
responsibility for the rebirth of Fukushima" boosted the budget for
decontamination to $35 billion, including funds to create a facility
to store radioactive soil and other waste near the wrecked nuclear
plant.
"DON'T ASK QUESTIONS"
Japan has always had a gray market of day labor centered in Tokyo
and Osaka. A small army of day laborers was employed to build the
stadiums and parks for the 1964 Olympics in Tokyo. But over the past
year, Sendai, the biggest city in the disaster zone, has emerged as
a hiring hub for homeless men. Many work clearing rubble left behind
by the 2011 tsunami and cleaning up radioactive hotspots by removing
topsoil, cutting grass and scrubbing down houses around the
destroyed nuclear plant, workers and city officials say.
[to top of second column] |
Seiji Sasa, 67, a broad-shouldered former wrestling promoter, was
photographed by undercover police recruiting homeless men at the
Sendai train station to work in the nuclear cleanup. The workers
were then handed off through a chain of companies reporting up to
Obayashi, as part of a $1.4 million contract to decontaminate roads
in Fukushima, police say.
"I don't ask questions; that's not my job," Sasa said in an
interview with Reuters. "I just find people and send them to work. I
send them and get money in exchange. That's it. I don't get involved
in what happens after that." Only a third of the money allocated
for wages by Obayashi's top contractor made it to the workers Sasa
had found. The rest was skimmed by middlemen, police say. After
deductions for food and lodging, that left workers with an hourly
rate of about $6, just below the minimum wage equal to about $6.50
per hour in Fukushima, according to wage data provided by police.
Some of the homeless men ended up in debt after fees for food and
housing were deducted, police say.
Sasa was arrested in November and released without being charged.
Police were after his client, Mitsunori Nishimura, a local
Inagawa-kai gangster. Nishimura housed workers in cramped dorms on
the edge of Sendai and skimmed an estimated $10,000 of public
funding intended for their wages each month, police say.
Nishimura, who could not be reached for comment, was arrested and
paid a $2,500 fine. Nishimura is widely known in Sendai. Seiryu
Home, a shelter funded by the city, had sent other homeless men to
work for him on recovery jobs after the 2011 disaster.
"He seemed like such a nice guy," said Yota Iozawa, a shelter
manager. "It was bad luck. I can't investigate everything about
every company."
In the incident that prompted his arrest, Nishimura placed his
workers with Shinei Clean, a company with about 15 employees based
on a winding farm road south of Sendai. Police turned up there to
arrest Shinei's president, Toshiaki Osada, after a search of his
office, according to Tatsuya Shoji, who is both Osada's nephew and a
company manager. Shinei had sent dump trucks to sort debris from the
disaster. "Everyone is involved in sending workers," said Shoji. "I
guess we just happened to get caught this time."
Osada, who could not be reached for comment, was fined about $5,000.
Shinei was also fined about $5,000.
"RUN BY GANGS" The trail from Shinei led police to a slightly larger neighboring
company with about 30 employees, Fujisai Couken. Fujisai says it was
under pressure from a larger contractor, Raito Kogyo, to provide
workers for Fukushima. Kenichi Sayama, Fujisai's general manger,
said his company only made about $10 per day per worker it
outsourced. When the job appeared to be going too slowly, Fujisai
asked Shinei for more help and they turned to Nishimura.
A Fujisai manager, Fuminori Hayashi, was arrested and paid a $5,000
fine, police said. Fujisai also paid a $5,000 fine.
"If you don't get involved (with gangs), you're not going to get
enough workers," said Sayama, Fujisai's general manager. "The
construction industry is 90 percent run by gangs."
Raito Kogyo, a top-tier subcontractor to Obayashi, has about 300
workers in decontamination projects around Fukushima and owns
subsidiaries in both Japan and the United States. Raito agreed that
the project faced a shortage of workers but said it had been
deceived. Raito said it was unaware of a shadow contractor under
Fujisai tied to organized crime.
"We can only check on lower-tier subcontractors if they are honest
with us," said Tomoyuki Yamane, head of marketing for Raito. Raito
and Obayashi were not accused of any wrongdoing and were not
penalized.
Other firms receiving government contracts in the decontamination
zone have hired homeless men from Sasa, including Shuto Kogyo, a
firm based in Himeji, western Japan.
"He sends people in, but they don't stick around for long," said
Fujiko Kaneda, 70, who runs Shuto with her son, Seiki Shuto. "He
gathers people in front of the station and sends them to our dorm."
Kaneda invested about $600,000 to cash in on the reconstruction
boom. Shuto converted an abandoned roadhouse north of Sendai into a
dorm to house workers on reconstruction jobs such as clearing
tsunami debris. The company also won two contracts awarded by the
Ministry of Environment to clean up two of the most heavily
contaminated townships.
Kaneda had been arrested in 2009 along with her son, Seiki, for
charging illegally high interest rates on loans to pensioners.
Kaneda signed an admission of guilt for police, a document she says
she did not understand, and paid a fine of $8,000. Seiki was given a
sentence of two years prison time suspended for four years and paid
a $20,000 fine, according to police. Seiki declined to comment.
UNPAID WAGE CLAIMS
In Fukushima, Shuto has faced at least two claims with local labor
regulators over unpaid wages, according to Kaneda. In a separate
case, a 55-year-old homeless man reported being paid the equivalent
of $10 for a full month of work at Shuto. The worker's paystub,
reviewed by Reuters, showed charges for food, accommodation and
laundry were docked from his monthly pay equivalent to about $1,500,
leaving him with $10 at the end of the August.
The man turned up broke and homeless at Sendai Station in October
after working for Shuto, but disappeared soon afterwards, according
to Yasuhiro Aoki, a Baptist pastor and homeless advocate.
Kaneda confirmed the man had worked for her but said she treats her
workers fairly. She said Shuto Kogyo pays workers at least $80 for a
day's work while docking the equivalent of $35 for food. Many of her
workers end up borrowing from her to make ends meet, she said. One
of them had owed her $20,000 before beginning work in Fukushima, she
says. The balance has come down recently, but then he borrowed
another $2,000 for the year-end holidays.
"He will never be able to pay me back," she said.
The problem of workers running themselves into debt is widespread.
"Many homeless people are just put into dormitories, and the fees
for lodging and food are automatically docked from their wages,"
said Aoki, the pastor. "Then at the end of the month, they're left
with no pay at all."
Shizuya Nishiyama, 57, says he briefly worked for Shuto clearing
rubble. He now sleeps on a cardboard box in Sendai Station. He says
he left after a dispute over wages, one of several he has had with
construction firms, including two handling decontamination jobs.
Nishiyama's first employer in Sendai offered him $90 a day for his
first job clearing tsunami debris. But he was made to pay as much as
$50 a day for food and lodging. He also was not paid on the days he
was unable to work. On those days, though, he would still be charged
for room and board. He decided he was better off living on the
street than going into debt.
"We're an easy target for recruiters," Nishiyama said. "We turn up
here with all our bags, wheeling them around and we're easy to spot.
They say to us, are you looking for work? Are you hungry? And if we
haven't eaten, they offer to find us a job."
(Reporting by Mari Saito and Antoni Slodkowski, additional reporting
by Elena Johansson, Michio Kohno, Yoko Matsudaira, Fumika Inoue,
Ruairidh Villar, Sophie Knight; writing by Kevin Krolicki; editing
by Bill Tarrant)
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