Japanese Couple Didn’t Speak to Each Other for 20 Years, and the Reason Is Astonishing

The topic of what constitutes a lasting and prosperous marriage has been a subject of ongoing discussion. While effective communication is often considered a crucial factor, a Japanese couple defied expectations by maintaining a 20-year marriage without saying a word. The surprising rationale behind their silent union adds an intriguing twist to their story.

A Japanese husband took the “silent treatment” to a whole new level.

The silent treatment entails the refusal to participate in verbal communication when someone is trying to engage and elicit a response. It is not unusual to observe a pause in communication following an argument.

However, can you imagine the difficulty of being married to a spouse who persistently avoids communication? This was the situation for a couple from the Nara region in Japan. Otou Katayama and his wife Yumi faced a prolonged two-decade rough patch in their relationship.

For decades, the man refrained from speaking to his wife, even though they lived under the same roof.

Otou Katayama continued to reside with his children and wife. Despite Yumi Katayama’s attempts to initiate conversations with her husband, she consistently faced a dearth of genuine responses. Instead, Otou communicated approval or disapproval through non-verbal cues, relying on grunts and nods.

Surprisingly, the idea of seeking a divorce or separation never crossed the wife’s mind. The couple even extended their family by welcoming a third child, all while Otou Katayama maintained his silent demeanor towards his wife.

The reason behind Katayama’s silence is even more surprising.

Years later, the father and husband elucidated the reasons behind imposing a 20-year silent treatment on his wife. Katayama believed he was lacking the attention he desired from his wife, feeling that her care was predominantly focused on their children.

Initially, he merely sulked about the situation, but over time, this evolved into a sense of jealousy toward his kids and his wife, who exhibited deep involvement in the upbringing of their offspring—perhaps a level of involvement that exceeded Katayama’s preferences.

Thanks to a TV show, husband and wife finally exchanged words after 20 years.

After two decades of silence, the adult children of the Japanese couple decided to take matters into their own hands. They approached a TV show, seeking assistance in resolving the longstanding conflict between their parents. TV Hokkaido stepped in to help the children witness Katayama speaking to his wife for the first time.

The children confessed that they couldn’t recall ever hearing a conversation between their parents. TV Hokkaido orchestrated a meeting between Otou and Yumi at a park, the same location as their first date many years ago. Unbeknownst to the spouses, their children, along with the audience, observed the emotional moment unfolding before their eyes.

After some initial hesitation, Otou Katayama finally mustered the courage to speak a few words to his wife, Yumi. In that moment, the husband felt a heightened sense of remorse and understanding regarding the situation. Katayama conveyed to his wife that he was aware of the pain and hardship his prolonged silence had caused her. Despite his regret, he also expressed gratitude to Yumi for standing by him throughout two decades of his silent period, which ultimately came to an end on that day.

Undoubtedly, the relationship between Otou and Yumi is distinctive, much like that of the couple from our previous article who, despite the woman’s disability and the criticism they faced, embarked on the journey of starting a family and became parents.

3 Stories of People Who Became Homeless During Hard Times

“That’s the problem, Amber!” he retorted. “I’m tired of all the responsibilities. I need time for myself. I’ve found someone who gets what I’m going through!”

That night, as he walked out, I just fell apart. Once Louis was gone, reality hit me hard. I struggled to find a job while taking care of Allen alone.

Two weeks later, our landlady evicted us as I couldn’t pay the rent, and Social Services took Allen.

That night, I was homeless and heartbroken. My baby, my child, was taken away from me.

I sold everything I had, including my phone, and that kept me going for a while. Then, the money ran out.

One evening, out in the cold, I remembered my dad’s warnings about Louis. “He’s not right for you,” Dad had said. I wish I’d listened. Desperate to reconnect with him, I decided to buy a phone to call him.I knew that if I borrowed a phone to call him, maybe he wouldn’t pick up the first time or even the second. But I’d have to keep trying….

I starved myself for a week to save enough to buy a second-hand phone. My tears didn’t stop when I dialed Dad’s number.

“Hello?” he asked.

“It’s… Amber, Dad,” I sobbed into the phone.

“Amber, sweetheart! Is that you? Oh God! How are things going?”

“I need your help, dad!”

“Is-Is everything okay?”

“Just come as soon as possible, Dad!” I said.

He arrived quickly. In a hotel room, I poured out my heart about the betrayal and my days on the streets. Dad comforted me.

The next day, Dad and I went to the orphanage to start the paperwork to bring Allen home. Once everything was finalized, Dad took Allen and me to New York.

He also hired a private detective to find out where Louis was. It turned out Louis had been cheating on me with his boss’s daughter.

When his boss found out the truth — that Louis was married and had abandoned his family — he fired him. Louis ended up living on the streets. It felt like justice was done.

Back home, with my dad and Allen, I felt stronger. Life had knocked me down but taught me resilience. And with Dad’s support, I knew we could face anything ahead.

Coming up next is Brandon’s story, a homeless man and father of 3 living in a tent. One day, he decided to help a stranger, ignoring his own needs, and his life was never the same again.

2. Brandon: I Gave My Last $2 to a Stranger at a Gas Station, the Next Day I Inherited His Company
Four months on the streets with my three kids taught me a lot about life’s harshness and the small acts of kindness that can keep hope alive.
We lived in a tent near a gas station, a makeshift home barely shielding us from the cold. It was tough, but we managed to find moments of joy, making the best of it.

One chilly morning, as I counted the few coins I had left, I decided to head into the gas station to buy a can of beans — our planned dinner for the evening.

Inside, I stumbled upon a scene that jolted my heart. An elderly man stood at the counter, confusion written all over his face.

“I’m sorry, young lady, what did you say about the water being funny?” he asked.

“I said you don’t have enough money, sir!” the cashier snapped.

“Yes, it is a sunny day!” he replied.

Suddenly, some young man in line grabbed the elderly man, yelling, “You need more cash!”

Watching this, my heart sank. The elderly man just wanted a bottle of water to take his pills, but his request for an affordable bottle was met with hostility. “If you can’t afford to pay, you’ll have to go!” the cashier shouted.

I couldn’t stand idly by. Stepping forward, I emptied my cup of change onto the counter. “Have a heart, lady,” I said, deciding to pay for the man’s water.

The cashier counted the money with distaste. “That’ll cover it,” she muttered. I left the can of beans and handed the water to the elderly man.

“Here you go, sir,” I spoke clearly, making sure he could read my lips.

“Why did you help me when you needed the money?” he asked me as we left the store, noticing my tent with kids nearby.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being homeless, it’s that the world works when people are kind to each other,” I explained.

“But what are your kids going to eat?” he questioned.

“There’s a chance I’ll find some scraps at the fast food joint across the street,” I assured him.

The next morning, two jeeps parked near our tent, and a man in a fancy suit stepped out.

“Mr. Grives’ last wish was for me to deliver this to you,” he said. There was a letter offering me the inheritance of his business.

“Is it a joke?” I asked in shock.

The man handed me legal documents. With a mix of apprehension and hope, I signed the papers. This could be the break my children and I needed, a chance to escape the streets.

We were driven to a huge mansion. “Can we put up a tent under that tree with pink flowers?” my youngest, Derrick, asked innocently.

“We’re going to live inside that house, silly! Right, Dad?” my daughter Kelly chimed in.

As I nodded, the reality of our new life began to sink in. Yet, the moment I opened the doors, something was wrong. The house was in disarray — someone had been there.

“We’ve examined the entire perimeter of the house and found no sign of forced entry, sir,” the officer reported after I called 911.

That evening, I got an anonymous call. In a robotic yet menacing tone, the voice told me I had 24 hours to decline all that Mr. Grives’ left me, leave the house, or else I would lose everything I love.

The mansion came with Mr. Grives’ loyal staff, and one of them warned me that this could be the doing of Mr. Grives’ eldest son, Christopher. I resolved to go to the cops in the morning.

But in the morning, my kids were vanished! Although the clever perpetrator had managed to hide his face from most of the CCTVs in and around the house, there was one he didn’t know about.

Mr. Grives’ staff watched in horror as they recognized the leader of three thugs drugging my children. It was Christopher.

From there on, the cops put everyone on the task of tracking Christopher, and didn’t rest until later that afternoon, when Christopher were spotted on the border of the state with my kids in the back of an old van.

Christopher was arrested, and my children were safe. But their fear had set in deep, and I had a choice to make: to heal and embrace the gift that kind soul left us, or to walk away, rebuilding from the start.

“Daddy, are we going to leave our home again?” Kelly’s question broke my heart.

I wrapped my arms around them. “We’re going to be okay. You want to know why?”

“IBecause the most valuable thing we have is right here, in my arms. So long as we stick together, we’ll always be rich in the most important way: love.”

While Brandon was blessed with children who understand the value of kindness and love, Mr. Greg wasn’t. Coming up next is his story.

3. Mr. Greg: My Teen Daughter Humiliated the Homeless, I Had to Teach Her a Lesson
I always thought I was doing right things for my daughter, Jane. I made sure she had everything she needed, but I missed teaching her something crucial — compassion for others. This hit me hard a few days ago when I lost my wallet.
After a fruitless search, I returned home to find Jane mocking a homeless man and his daughter at our doorstep. The shock set in when the man handed me my wallet, untouched. I was moved by that man’s gesture.

But Jane dismissively called them “trash,” and spoke to them with so much disgust…it broke my heart. I knew I had to fix this.

That evening, I invited the man, Mark, and his daughter for dinner. It was my chance to teach Jane about generosity.

“Dad, check the money! He probably stole it!” Jane said as I checked my wallet. Everything was there.

“All the money is here, sweetie. You’re mistaken,” I told her.

Seeing Mark’s and Lolita’s discomfort, I invited them to stay for dinner.
“Why don’t you guys join us?” I said. “It’s the least I can do to thank you.”

During dinner, Jane gave them paper plates instead of proper dishes.

“Why not use the nice dishes I got you for your birthday?” I suggested.

As we ate, I encouraged Mark to share his story, but Jane kept interrupting with rude comments. Eventually, I lost my patience.

“Shut your mouth, Jane!” I snapped. “You don’t know nothing. Misfortune could strike anyone.”

I then revealed a painful truth to Jane. “It’s my fault. I worked too much, especially after your mother passed. We were the same once,” I confessed. “Do you remember our ‘camping trips’? We were actually homeless.”

Jane was stunned. “How did we get back on our feet?”

“A kind man gave me a job. That changed our lives,” I said with a sigh.

Then, I looked at Mark. “And now, it’s my turn to pay it forward,” I told him.

Mark nodded. “All I did was what a decent human should do,” he said.

“I had no idea, Dad. I’m sorry,” Jane said after a pause.

“It’s okay, honey. It’s not too late to learn from this,” I told her.

When it was time for Mark and Lolita to go, I suggested, “Why don’t you both stay the night? We have plenty of room, and it’s getting late.”

Mark hesitated, then gratefully accepted. “Thank you, Greg. This means a lot.”

But I knew I wasn’t done helping them. Offering them a night’s shelter would not alleviate their problems. So I made a decision.

A little kindness costs nothing, guys, and I was ready to make sure that little Lolita and her dad had a good life.

The next day, I offered Mark a job as a driver and arranged a temporary home for them. “And I’ll help you until you’re back on your feet,” I promised.

“Oh, Really?” Mark gasped. “Nobody is this kind nowadays! I won’t let you down, sir,” Mark told me in tears. “Thank you so much!”

The smile on Lolita’s face that day made me realize I’d done the right thing. As for Jane…my Janie changed. She became a better person, and I’m so glad for that.

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