Disasters like the one that occurred on March 11, 2011 in Fukushima, Japan, unconsciously lead us to the fundamental elements of life, to the principles that shape today's and tomorrow's identity. The Japanese chronicle of Ryoko Sekiguchi, poet, writer, and translator, who has been living in Paris since 1997, stems from a deep internal upheaval. On the day of the triple Japanese disaster - earthquake, tsunami, nuclear accident - the author is in Paris. The Tohoku region shakes, and with it, her world, thousands of kilometers away. It is not easy to experience a tragedy from a distance, even less easy to accept it and almost impossible to see it objectively. She takes a piece of paper, writes, creates a "chronicle" of life, her life, and at the same time the lives of all those who were affected by the blow, in France and Japan, trying to capture the unspoken moments "before the disaster". She takes the plane to Tokyo and meets her family, rediscovers her birth city, searching for something solid to hold on to.

Ryoko Sekiguchi kept a diary from March 10 to April 30, 2011. This chronicle records thoughts on the superimposition of images, the memory of poles, the random, the ephemeral of description, and the main names that emerge, spectrally, after a disaster. Waiting for "it" to happen. "It"... the relentless chain of disasters that struck Japan: earthquake, tsunami, radiation leak... Her book It's Not a Coincidence is a chronicle of those dark days she spent sharing the doubts and sorrows of her people. Their frustration as well when they hear people say, "No one is to blame. It's a natural disaster."
Her thought, clear, is irreconcilable.
Her narrative, sharp, is at the same time a reflection on writing.