Sombre reflection at Anne Frank House

From the outside, Anne Frank House in Amsterdam looks ordinary – just another tall and narrow building in brown brick, with large windows. The structure itself dates back to the year 1635, when it was constructed to be a private residence with a warehouse and backyard annex. Over the centuries that followed, it would change hands many times.

It was December 1940 when Otto Frank – Anne’s father – moved his company into the space. Earlier that year, Nazis had taken control of the Netherlands, and began putting increasing restrictions on Jewish families. Anticipating that danger was coming, Otto began preparing a hidden space of small, connected rooms tucked away in the depths of the building.

On July 6, 1942, the Frank family went into permanent hiding in the ‘secret annex’ – moving into sparsely furnished rooms with blacked-out windows and stifling air. There they stayed for more than two full years before being betrayed, arrested by the Nazis, and deported to concentration camps.

Of the eight people who sheltered in the annex, Otto was the only survivor. Upon returning from Auschwitz to Amsterdam in June 1945, he was given Anne’s diary, which had been found and preserved by an employees who had helped the Franks while they were in hiding.

The building itself was saved from demolition in the 1950s and opened as the Anne Frank House in 1960. It preserved the ‘secret annex’ as a memorial to Anne and other victims of persecution during the Second World War.

Step inside and the creaking floors, dim lighting and hauntingly empty rooms immediately transport you back to 1942. The first few areas show photos of Anne, the Frank family, and those who would help them, in a glimpse of their pre-war lives: school photos, vacations, gatherings with family and friends. Their smiles are frozen in time, just before things would take a horrible turn for the worst.

Standing in front of the movable bookcase which concealed the entrance to the secret annex is almost heart-stopping. Behind it, a narrow staircase rises. The space is dark, and the steps are tiny, triggering your hands to reach out for the support of the walls as you cautiously climb higher.

In that moment, you might realize these are the same walls Anne touched. That this is the gloomy space to which she was confined. That these are the actual rooms in which she lived. You might notice the one window, high above your head, offering the only glimpse of outside – a thin slice of sky she described as her “patch of blue heaven.”

For young Anne, writing became a way to cope with the isolation and the unbearable heaviness of having to live in continuous silence. Today, though, her voice rings loud and clear throughout the house, where lines from her diary are projected on the walls. Words that have transcended time linger in the dismal space she had to endure for over two years. The pictures she glued to the walls to brighten up her bedroom are still present, as if waiting for her hands to come and take them down.

The final few rooms reveal the story of what happened after the Nazis came – deportations, the camps, and death. There are post-war photos of Otto – a father who must have been utterly heartbroken to learn he had lost his entire family, and who made sure his daughter’s words would live on. The little red-checkered diary that Anne received on her 13th birthday in 1942 remains on display. Forever testament to the horrors and cruelty of the times, in her own words.

When you step outside afterward, things somehow feel different. While the streets might look the same as they did before you entered, everything seems deeper, darker, harsher.

Visiting Anne Frank House will leaves an indelible mark on anyone who visits. It’s a stark reflection of the ugliness of hatred, but also a reminder of the beauty of hope – that one person’s voice can make a difference. That one girl’s diary can forever change how we view the world.