Sacrifice Without Regret
Sacrifice Without Regret Zaur Sheozh | Al Jazeera Bureau Chief – Moscow
Bright as a star shining in the dark sky, our car was cruising at night through the endless prairies north of Kazakhstan. Four hours of driving on rough terrain without a single car passing by. At first light, we were at the outskirts of Qaynar. An old three-storey building painted in white stood in the village’s maidan. It was Qaynar’s hospital; our destination. It was June 2006. The village was silent as a grave. The silence was broken only by a herd of camels crossing towards their grazing grounds; a familiar scene in Kazakh villages. Inside the hospital, we were welcomed by Dr Farahat, the manager of the only medical facility in the region. Most of the patients were victims of nuclear weapons tests carried out in Semipalatinsk province by the government of the former Soviet Union for more than four decades. Having begged Dr Farahat to spare the usual Kazakh hospitality customs, he accompanied us on a tour of the hospital. The facility was overcrowded with cancer patients with various physical disfigurements. The hospital wards were so packed that patients were lying along the corridors on all three storeys. We heard
nothing but patients crying out in pain; begging for painkillers. I was speechless; and he knew I was waiting for answers. “All those patients are suffering from cancer and disfigurement. We cannot afford to treat those with psychological trauma,” he said. “Are they all victims of the nuclear tests?” I asked. “Yes, all of them, without exception,” he answered with a deep sigh. “Nuclear pollution has ruined us,” he added. “Radioactive waste is found everywhere, in the air, water and even soil. These traces will not be gone before 500 years.” Then he grabbed my hand and led me to one of the wards. “Come, I will show you our legendary patient,” he said. In the corner, a man was lying on a bed, staring out of a nearby window. His hands and feet were totally disfigured; his cheeks were sunken. He was sporting the traditional Kazakh hat. I came closer and said: “Salam. We are Al Jazeera; you might have heard of us.”
“Welcome. I know you; the Kazakh TV stations talk about you. My name is Juma Ali,” he replied. When I asked him why he was considered the most famous patient in the hospital, he smiled and told me: “I was witness to one of the nuclear tests, as I was told by my relatives.”
118
119
Made with FlippingBook Online newsletter