As I mentioned in my previous post, Personal Announcement, I found myself facing three different illnesses within just two and a half months earlier this year — asthma, a pancreatic tumour, and a cerebral infarction.
None of them were caused by any particular virus or infection. If anything, they were the result of long‑standing neglect — a failure in self‑management, one might say.
Even if I accept them as signs of age catching up with me, experiencing three major conditions in such a short span of time was far beyond anything I had imagined. It felt less like simple physical trouble and more like being struck by something inexplicable — as though I had been cursed, in a way.
That said, there is little point in dwelling on it forever.
Since I have already achieved what could be called a “hat‑trick of illnesses,” I may as well turn the situation around and write about the connection between sickness, misfortune, and yokai.After all, if I am to keep going, I might as well make use of what has happened.
(^_^;)
It goes without saying that the reason I am still alive today, despite experiencing three illnesses in such a short period, is thanks to modern medical technology and the social systems that allow us to receive such care.
With advanced diagnostic equipment, doctors can examine the deepest parts of the body, and based on those findings, determine an appropriate course of treatment and prescribe effective medication.
All of this is possible because so much of the relationship between the human body and disease has been scientifically analysed and applied in practical ways.
However, in earlier times—before such scientific knowledge existed—many illnesses that afflicted the human body, especially infectious diseases and epidemics, were believed to be caused by the wrath of nature, the curses of animals, or the work of malevolent spirits.
And this was not merely a belief from centuries ago.
Even just a hundred years ago, such ways of thinking were still quite common.
Let us take a look at some of the yokai in Japan that were thought to bring sickness and misfortune.
Yakubyō‑gami
Yakubyō‑gami is one of the most representative yokai in Japan associated with illness and the misfortunes that accompany it.
The word yakubyō refers to infectious diseases, while gami (a variant of kami) means “deity.” In this context, however, it signifies a malevolent god who brings calamity.
For more than a thousand years, epidemics were believed to be caused by invisible demons or evil spirits.
By the Edo period (17th–19th century), this idea had taken shape as the image of “a filthy, sickly-looking old ghost.”
As someone who is now of advanced age and currently undergoing medical treatment, I must admit this is a rather unwelcome depiction.
Still, in an era with almost no organised medical care, elderly people—whose strength had waned and whose living conditions were often unhygienic—were naturally more susceptible to illness. It is easy to imagine how such an image became attached to them.
An interesting aspect of Yakubyō‑gami is that they are sometimes said to act not alone, but in large groups.
There is a tale in which Yakubyō‑gami gathered en masse to confront a monk of great virtue and spiritual power.
Perhaps the idea arose from the fact that epidemics spread widely across society, leading people to imagine that Yakubyō‑gami must also exist in great numbers. (^_^;)
It is unclear why, but in one region of Japan, the ninth day of the second month in the old lunar calendar was believed to be the day when Yakubyō‑gami arrived in the village.
It was also said that Yakubyō‑gami disliked sieves with many mesh openings, so people would hang a sieve at the entrance of their homes on that day.
Even though it is an old custom, one cannot help feeling sorry for any child whose birthday happened to fall on that date.
Superstitions of this kind continued even into the Meiji period (late 19th century), long after the medieval worldview had faded.
When signs of an epidemic appeared, villagers in one community formed a procession, ringing bells and drums as they marched to pray for the expulsion of Yakubyō‑gami.
They walked while chanting loudly, hoping the spirit would leave their village.
Naturally, if everyone kept walking in one direction, they would eventually reach the border with the neighbouring village.
From the neighbouring village’s perspective, having a driven‑out Yakubyō‑gami suddenly “sent over” to them would be nothing but a nuisance.
It is no surprise that a quarrel broke out.
According to newspaper reports from the time, the situation escalated into a brawl between the two villages—Yakubyō‑gami entirely forgotten in the chaos.
One wonders what on earth they were doing…(^_^;)
Let us look at a few other yokai that were believed to bring illness besides Yakubyō‑gami.
Okori
Rather than representing a specific disease, Okori was thought to embody the violent, acute symptoms caused by illness.
In modern terms, it resembles the high fever and intense suffering seen in conditions such as malaria.
Okori was regarded as a malevolent deity who brought such agonising states upon people.
A humorous tradition is associated with Okori:
it was said that if one posted a sign reading “No favourite foods of Okori‑gami are kept in this house”, the spirit would be discouraged from entering.
This idea later became material for comic storytelling.
Seki no Baba
Seki means “cough,” and Baba means “old woman,” making Seki no Baba a yokai who brings illnesses accompanied by coughing.
In some regions the figure appears as Jiji (an old man), though for some reason the Baba form is more common.
Seki no Baba was seen not only as a bringer of coughs but also as a deity who could suppress them.
Stone statues of the spirit were enshrined along roadsides, and people offered good tea in prayer, believing it would soothe their coughing.
When statues of an old man and old woman were placed together, they were also worshipped as a deity of marital harmony.
One wonders which of these roles reflects the true nature of the spirit. (^_^;)
Mushi
Mushi simply means “insect.”
The idea was that certain invisible insects lived inside the human body, causing severe symptoms when they became active.
(This does not refer to parasites recognised in modern medicine.)
Sudden, sharp pains in the abdomen or chest were attributed to Shaku no Mushi,
while night‑crying and vague distress in infants were blamed on Kan no Mushi.
This belief in “invisible insects inside the body” persisted well into the modern era.
Even around forty years ago, some elderly people still held to this idea.
It may have been a unique transitional mindset that existed between superstition and modern medical understanding.
These various superstitions and the sometimes absurd actions that accompanied them may seem laughable from a modern perspective.
Yet for the people of those times, they were the result of serious thought and genuine fear.
It would be unfair to dismiss them simply as foolishness.
In fact, only a few years ago, when the coronavirus swept across the world, many people lost their ability to make calm, rational judgments in the face of its threat.
Rumours spread wildly, masks were sold at ridiculous prices, and outlandish theories appeared about the origins of the virus and how to deal with it.
Illness brought not only physical harm but also unprecedented social confusion born from fear.
Seen in this light, humans are remarkably vulnerable to “fear of the invisible” and to the many rumours that circulate during times of anxiety.
Perhaps such vulnerability is not tied to cultural development at all, but is simply part of human nature itself.
And if I may add one more thought—this is only my personal view.
It is true that people more than a century ago believed illnesses were caused by malevolent gods, yokai, or invisible insects.
But was that truly all there was to it?
In those days, falling seriously ill meant facing a life‑or‑death situation.
Aside from praying to deities or relying on simple folk remedies such as medicinal herbs, there were few means of treatment.
In a circumstance where one had to prepare for death, the greatest fear for any human being would be “to suffer helplessly from something whose cause and nature are completely unknown.”
By interpreting illness as the work of evil gods, yokai, or unseen insects, people may have been trying to establish a clear chain of cause and effect—
a way to avoid blaming themselves, and to accept a fate that could not be escaped.
And by leaving room for recovery through talismans or prayers, they may have found a measure of psychological stability in the face of disease.
Perhaps the people of the past were not merely “a superstitious folk born of ignorance,”
but rather “a people of natural wisdom,” who skillfully used superstition and experience to navigate life.…