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What Is Radioactive Racism And How Does It Affect Millions?

When we hear the word ‘violence’, the connotations we attach to it are mostly pain, misery, and rage. This semester we were offered an elective named Literature of Violence: Prose and Poetry. At first, I was hesitant to study violence because I was already stressed and anxious due to the pandemic. But I didn’t have an option so I had to go ahead with it.
As the semester began we went through several literary works related to violence like Voices From Chernobyl, Draupadi, Thanda Gosht, The diameter Of A Bomb, etc. I was mainly interested in reading about violence inflicted due to radiation because I didn’t know much about it. Although, I had studied about Hiroshima Nagasaki bombings in school through the poem ‘Five Ways To Kill A Man’ by Edwin Brock but not very extensively. The connotations that I usually attached to violence were about violence being inflicted on an individual or genocide of Jews during World war II.

                                             

Chernobyl
Firefighters at Chernobyl disaster, 1986. Photo: Igor Kostin / Sygma via Getty
                                                                     
But after reading ‘Voices Of Chernobyl’ by Svetlana Alexievich, my perception entirely changed. I was introduced to something I had only known but never really understood. After reading the candid accounts of people who had suffered and lost their loved ones because of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster. As a reader, I could feel the pain as the emotions were presented in a very raw manner. I felt heartache after reading the prologue itself. Books had never impacted me so much in the past.
 
It was about a pregnant lady whose husband was a fireman and had died due to the Chernobyl nuclear disaster. Each line felt like thorns. One of the lines was about a woman telling her that This is not your husband anymore, not a beloved person, but a radioactivity object with a strong density of poisoning”. I can’t even imagine how it felt to see a beloved turn into a radioactive object and not even be able to touch them. Then losing a newborn child who is also called the same and not even being allowed to touch it before it’s buried.
 
This led me to think that if reading about it was so painful then the misery attached to it would be terrifying. As I felt uneasy, I left the book and didn’t read it for a while. I spoke about this to one of my friends and she said I should not read these accounts so much as they are depressing. But as I had no choice, I had to read them for my assignments.
 
Gradually, I started reading more about such incidents like the Bhopal gas tragedy, Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster, Beirut explosion, etc. A common thing that I noticed was the helplessness and grief of the inhabitants. It is then that I realized that knowing more about them was not only making me aware but also a stronger individual. I also felt grateful for what I have because as humans we don’t value what we have until it’s gone. We always want more.
Nuclear tomb in the Runit Island (Photo: The Asahi Shimbun/Getty Images)
                               
 While going through several readings, I came across one of my to be favorite poems ‘Anointed’ by Kathy Jetnil-Kijner. In this poem, Kijner discusses the misery of the people of Runit Island, one of the 41 islands of Enewetak atoll in the pacific ocean. You must be wondering what kind of misery could it be, maybe hunger, unemployment, financial problems. But wait, it’s worse. It’s ‘Radioactive racism’. Well, I didn’t know what it meant so I simply googled it. Thanks to the advent of science we can know everything with one click but at the same time, press one switch and kill millions.
 
Radioactive racism’ means high-level atomic waste being buried in islands where people who are economically and politically disadvantaged live. This leads to the poor health of its aboriginals and also bad crops because of the radiation caused by the atomic waste. I was appalled because I could not even imagine this kind of inhumanity. The problems that I have known about growing up in India were entirely different from what these people are going through.
 
Will I find an island or a tomb?is a line of the poem which gives a sense of the misery of its inhabitants. It is very painful to know that a beautiful island has become an atomic waste dumping ground because science is being misused. Some of us experience the benefits but many lose their life to it.
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