Our guest today is Shiraishi Yuriko, a representative of the nonprofit Uminokuni Japan.

Since the organization's founding, they've been working to promote marine life and seafood culture among the masses.

Particularly noteworthy are their efforts to popularize "surimi,"

a paste made by grinding up and kneading fresh fish, among women in Africa.

Their goal is to spread awareness of the value of seafood.

And by teaching the women how to make surimi,

they want to increase their opportunities for employment and improve their standing in society.

Climate change has led to floods and droughts.

Their crops aren't growing as planned.

So they have to rely on marine resources.

We want to end hunger on Earth. That's our vision.

Shiraishi will turn 91 this year.

What drives her to make a difference?

Surimi is a traditional Japanese processed food made by grinding up and kneading fresh fish.

You can coat it in batter and shallow-fry it,

or shape it into patties and fry it to make nutritious, flavorful dishes.

Over the recent years, Shiraishi has been actively promoting surimi in Abidjan, the largest city in Côte d'Ivoire.

She holds workshops to teach local women how to make dishes with surimi.

In Côte d'Ivoire, fish is usually either salt-cured or smoked.

Traditionally, the people have eaten a lot of meat.

So surimi dishes have been a fresh change.

When I went to Africa, I noticed that most of the fish dishes involve either curing the fish in salt or smoking it.

I had a flash of inspiration - it hit me that surimi, which uses all of the fish flesh, would be perfect for Côte d'Ivoire.

Fish patties, croquettes, fish balls - people were surprised at all the possibilities.

We were able to get everyone on board, and here we are today.

Each workshop has space for about 50 local women.

An interpreter translates everything into French.

Shiraishi also created a textbook to teach about surimi nutrition and the value of fish in the diet.

She kept the text to a minimum and instead focused on simple illustrations.

That's partly because the majority of participants have only limited education.

They work jobs such as selling fish on behalf of local fishers, but most struggle to make ends meet.

These women are at the bottom of the ladder.

They have no education, they didn't go to school when they were little.

Instead, they've been working since they were about ten.

And they tend to have between three and four kids, but the father is out of the picture.

When you ask about it, they always say they ran away.

I saw how these seaside mamas were living,

and I thought that by teaching them how to process fish, they could earn an income and improve their physical health.

The idea was they could make a living while studying fish nutrition.

That was the thinking behind our surimi project.

Each workshop is five days long, from Monday to Friday.

On day one, they learn about nutrition and safe handling of fish.

On day two, they learn to process fish into surimi and cook with it.

Day three is a business class where participants think about how they should market their dishes.

On day four, they head outside to hold live demos and sell food.

The goal is not only to cook for themselves but to earn a living by having people eat what they make.

So they have to be able to provide customers a consistent product in a safe, sanitary way.

The issue was, they didn't have scales.

They weren't used to measuring things out.

So we had to teach them how to make 80-gram patties that look and taste the same.

That took work.

Shiraishi's relationship with Africa started in 2011,

when she was working with the International Whaling Commission as an observer.

She was involved in efforts to preserve fish-eating culture in Japan.

But a member of the commission who was advocating for the sustainable use of fishery resources in Africa

approached her about doing something for the women living in poor fishing villages.

The following year, she served up surimi dishes in Morocco, and received a great response.

Ever since she's been working to spread surimi in Africa.

She began working in Côte d'Ivoire in 2016, and now travels there two to three times a year.

She says during workshops she often finds herself caught off guard...

The participants suddenly break into song!

Madame Shiraishi is adorable, she's so wonderful, we're so glad we met her.

They sing things like that with this cheery look.

They live in these poor conditions, but in all my time there, I've never heard any of them complain.

Not once.

In many ways they need our assistance, but deep down I feel we have so much to learn from them.

In 2022, she successfully lobbied the Japanese government to open a surimi training center in Abidjan.

In recognition of her efforts, the Ivorian president awarded her the Agricultural Order of Merit.

In March 2024, she opened a literacy center for women who were unable to receive an education, as well as their children.

It's all been a group effort.

The work I do is thanks to the help of lots of people.

That award isn't something I earned on my own, so I haven't held a celebration or anything.

It's on display in my office.

Shiraishi was born in 1933 in an area of Hokkaido with a thriving fishing industry.

At 20, she married her painter husband and gave birth to a daughter.

But they couldn't live on her husband's income alone.

So shortly after giving birth, she had to go to work and become the breadwinner of the family.

He was a struggling artist.

So in order to support him, I juggled college, child-rearing, and all sorts of jobs.

I supported my family for all those years, and here we are today.

Even if I got sick or had an upset stomach, I didn't have time or money to go to see a doctor.

So I made sure to pay attention to what I was eating.

He wasn't in a position to marry, but I asked him to marry me anyway.

So when I was 20 years old, I made a vow to support him from that point on.

In that sense I welcome hardship.

You could say I'm more ready than the average person to take it on.

Shiraishi, who was an avid reader, eventually started working for a publishing company.

She helped publish many books about Japanese traditions and lifestyle culture, including a handful of bestsellers.

In 1986, she struck out on her own and visited fishing villages across Japan to learn more about the seafood industry.

That's when she began to feel a sense of crisis that Japanese people were losing touch with their fish-eating culture.

After World War II, people got their fill of foreign cuisine, which led to a general shift to Western food culture.

People forgot about the fact that they like Japanese food culture.

Children were growing up in this country surrounded by the sea without being exposed to fish.

I was genuinely astonished.

Even in landlocked countries kids learn about the sea.

But in Japan, they don't teach elementary-schoolers.

So I decided I had to preserve our fish-eating culture.

In 1993, Shiraishi created the Women's Forum for Fish, which would pave the way to her current activities.

She invited the wives of rural fishermen to come to elementary schools in Tokyo

and teach the kids about fish and the industry as a whole.

To date they've visited some 800 schools in Tokyo alone.

These seaside mamas work with their fishermen husbands.

They know what was caught that day because they're the ones sorting through it.

So they know a lot about fish.

I just really wanted to teach the kids about the sea and about how blessed Japan is.

We tell them about the Oyashio and Kuroshio currents,

and how thanks to the Kuroshio, Japan has abundant fishery resources.

Thirty years on, their work with elementary school students continues to evolve.

They organize field trips where kids act as reporters.

They visit remote islands and interview fishers to learn about how global warming is affecting marine life.

They also visit the Toyosu fish market to learn about changes to Japan's catch

and gain a greater appreciation for seafood in general.

In March 2024, the kids got to present their findings at a special event.

About 40 fourth graders gathered at an elementary school in Tokyo.

Their presentations even included skits.

Ding-a-ling-a-ling! We will begin the auction.

- 2 million yen! - 2 million!
- 4 million yen! - 4 million!

They also invited an expert to lead a class where the kids got to dissect dried sardines

and learn about how nutrient-dense fish are.

I'm so glad we got to go to Toyosu Market

and learn so much about fish.

I learned about the state of the ocean.

About how its condition is worsening.

Things I hadn't learned on the internet.

Speaking with fishers directly taught me a lot.

I believe they should learn about Japan's origins.

About how we have some of the world's major ocean currents running along our coast.

Fish travel on those currents.

We should take advantage of that and eat lots of fish,

so that we can stay healthy, so our families and friends stay healthy.

To feed society, people across Japan, across the world.

That's my vision.

In attendance at the event was a representative from Côte d'Ivoire's fisheries ministry.

She was there to express their gratitude for everything Shiraishi is doing.

She's someone we've become close to.

She's full of love and humanity that she wants to convey to people.

She's brave and gives us the strength and the will to move forward.

It's true that Mama Shiraishi stands in front.

But she has collaborators who travel with her.

To them we also want to say "Arigato gozaimasu."

Africa is full of energy and ability.

All they need is education.

Right now, I think what Africa lacks is a dedicated school for nutritional science.

In particular, one for women.

We have a number of them in Japan.

Those universities help keep the Japanese public healthy.

But Africa doesn't have that.

I believe that opening schools for nutritional science in African countries

would help make the continent an even more wonderful place.

That's the goal. Surimi is only the gateway.

Do you have any words to live by?

Taking on challenges is a part of life.

I'm determined to keep striving until the day I die.

If I come up with an idea and there's something I can do about it, I endeavor to make it happen.

Even if I think it's impossible.

That go-for-it attitude defines who I am.