
Mafia Tactics: Pana Homes and The Akanegaoka chōnaikai
Mafia Tactics: Pana Homes and The Akanegaoka chōnaikai
“You can’t choose to leave or not participate. That’s not a decision you can make on your own. You have to explain to the association in person, and we’ll decide.” - Takayama-san Akanegaoka chōnaikai
In Japan, we have neighbourhood associations called, chōnaikai or jichikai. They serve the purpose of organizing community events, cleaning campaigns, and managing garbage collection stations. They collect a monthly membership and donations for various projects. These groups are often associated with the city government but have no legal capacities as they are volunteer groups. The Japanese Supreme Court maintains that members can at any time leave unilaterally without consequence see, (最高裁平成17年4月26日判決・判例時報1879号10頁).
Nishiwaki City, nestled in the northern mountains of Hyogo Prefecture, is a scenic yet modest town with a population of approximately thirty-nine thousand. Driving in, There's not much to mention in terms of attractions most people who live here come from the surrounding area or have been relocated here by involuntary transfers at work. That said, it offers picturesque views of rice fields, mountains, and abundant wildlife.
My introduction to Nishiwaki began with a long car ride to meet Tanaka-san, a realtor from Goodlife. She informed us that the property we had inquired about was not a family-occupancy apartment, and our options were limited due to the timing of our move. In hindsight, I should have questioned this more thoroughly—after all, we had specifically searched for family-occupancy properties. Why didn't she mention this over Line in a message instead of having us drive down? Whether the listing was inaccurate or we were misled remains unclear.
She presented us with photos of three apartments, all of which seemed overpriced given the rural setting. Trusting her expertise, we ultimately settled on a 3LDK apartment.
Shortly after moving in, an older man arrived at our door with a clipboard, requesting our personal information and employer details for "emergency purposes." In Japan, personal data is often handed over with little hesitation, even for minor transactions. For example, something as routine as an oil change might require providing a phone number, address, and a copy of the car title. This widespread lack of data security remains a concern.
Around that time, a flyer arrived in the mail informing me that I was required to participate in a cleaning activity or pay a fine. This was unexpected, as I had never encountered such a policy in my years of living in Japan. I've stayed in Daiwa apartment for a few years and their management fee covered private garbage collection separate from the cities and cleaning. But I was now paying a management fee and chōnaikai (neighborhood association fee) and they wanted me to clean as well?
Due to work commitments, I opted to pay the fine, assuming it was a one-time obligation. However, a few months later, another notice arrived with the same demand—clean on a Monday morning or pay again. By then, I had adjusted my schedule for better work-life balance and was unwilling to spend my free time performing unpaid labor for a community I was merely renting in. The fact that cleaning time duration was listed as an hour and as one hour and the fine was more than double the prefecture's hourly minimum wage served only deepened my disbelief.
This is when I began my research and found out that this was just a volunteer group. Furthermore, if denied access to trash collection sites due to non-participation, city-managed garbage collection is an available alternative.
Armed with this knowledge, I informed the portly old man collecting the fines that I would no longer be participating or paying. He was visibly displeased. I also pointed out that my rental contract did not stipulate any such obligations. Shortly after, I received a call from Panasonic Homes, the property manager, asking me to pay the fine.
When I questioned whether I had been informed of these requirements before signing the contract, the representative hesitated before admitting he was unsure. When I asked if I was legally obligated to pay, he suggested I speak with the neighborhood association leader, Takayama-san.
I contacted Takayama-san and explained my position. His response was dismissive: "That has nothing to do with us." I replied in kind, stating that the neighborhood association and its obligations had nothing to do with me.
When he insisted that I either pay or attend a meeting to explain myself and they would decide if I could not participate in the association. I agreed to attend a meeting and asked when it was. Apparently, Mr Takayama wasn't expecting it because he quickly backtracked, claiming no date had been set and it would take a few days for them to decide on a date. Then he began asking if I would reconsider paying in the meantime. I refused and reiterated my stance.
When he attempted to assert that leaving was not an individual choice and required approval, I challenged him to provide this in writing and put it in the mailbox, as I would seek legal counsel if needed. At that point, his demeanor shifted immediately, before I couldn't get off my phone all of a sudden at the mention of written documents and legal counsel the conversation ended.
The next time I saw the portly old man, he avoided eye contact and stared at the ground. I never received a written notice from the association, or a call again.
Many in Japan accept such practices unquestioningly, believing resistance is futile. However, compliance for the sake of preserving "peace" often comes at the cost of personal rights and deep-rooted injustices. At the end of World War two when Japanese soldiers were being tried for their war crimes they said " I was just following orders". My hope for Japan is that the generations to come will be critical thinkers who do more than just what they're told. But this might be impossible with the current work culture. In this case, the expectation of unpaid labor was presented as an obligation when, in reality, it was a choice. Addressing such issues requires knowledge, persistence, and the willingness to challenge entrenched norms.
While living in Japan presents unique challenges, my approach remains firm: stand by what is right and question practices that seem unjust. As long as I have the breath of life, I will hold to my integrity.
Throughout this experience, I boiled with anger and prayed to God to allow me to control my temper. I asked Him, “If I’m wrong, let me see the error of my ways and correct my path. If not, guide my anger so that I wouldn't sin.” As Christians let's approach all things in our lives with a prayerful attitude.