Ruby, who survived the disaster, outside the abandoned plant
On December 3, 1984, toxic gas leaked from the poorly maintained
and understaffed Bhopal plant owned by Union Carbide, killing up to
20,000 people and leaving 120,000 chronically ill to date. The
survivors have never received adequate compensation for their
debilitating illnesses. To this day, the polluted site of the
abandoned factory bleeds poisons daily into the groundwater of
local residents. Dow Chemical now owns Union Carbide. As this
series of personal recollections reveals, it operates differently,
but equally irresponsibly, in India and the United States.
Ruby and Paul were born around the time of the Bhopal disaster.
Both have suffered as a result of Dow's negligence and deception,
even though they live more than 7,000 miles apart. To discover
their stories and learn how their experiences have motivated them
to take action, read this first installment of our three part
series.
Ruby
My name is Tahira Sultan, but people affectionately call me
Ruby. I am 22 years old, and I was born in Bhopal, the capital of
Madhya Pradesh. I am a happy-go-lucky person and usually keep
everyone around me in splits of laughter. I have spent all 22 years
of my life here in Bhopal. At present, I am studying for my Masters
in Science in Biotechnology.
Growing up in Bhopal
We always look forward to each new day. But not just every day,
but every week, every year, once in a while we sit back and wish we
could wipe that one day off the calendar - it would be so wonderful
if that could happen. The memory of the night of 2/3 December 1984
for us, I am sure it is like 9/11 for Americans. For those
involved, that was the most horrific day of their lives. Their most
horrific day can be compared quite rationally to our most horrific
night, though if you really think about it, the impact of our
tragedy was far greater.
That black night of 1984 is still an open page in front of my
eyes as if it were just last night that it happened. That Sunday
night, half past midnight, I suddenly woke up coughing - when I
looked around, the room was full of white smoke, and my eyes
started to water. I asked my mother what was wrong, and she told me
to wrap my blanket close around myself and go back to sleep.
Meanwhile she went to the other room to check on my grandparents.
My grandmother said, "We can't stay here much longer. Let's go to
the Hamidia Hospital." My mother picked up my little brother and
wrapped him up in her shawl while I clung to her kurta from behind,
and we started running. Outside, we saw all the neighbors running.
The sky over us was turning red. I hadn't been able to put on any
slippers. I can still remember the blue frilly frock that I was
wearing that morning.
My
brother was lying absolutely still in my mother's arms, neither
moving nor talking. My mother ran on desperately, with both her
children. At a crossing, we got separated from my grandparents, but
my mother did not give up. She kept calling out, screaming,
"Somebody help us! Get us out of here!" All around us, people were
running, screaming, falling over. Their eyes were swelling up, they
were out of breath, and many were vomiting or had diarrhea. I saw
life ending all around me that night, but we kept running.
Suddenly, my mother spotted a rickshaw and ran toward it. She
lunged at it desperately, and somehow managed to heave herself into
it with both my brother and myself. But the rickshaw had gone
hardly any distance when it got a puncture and it trundled to a
stop. Neither my mother nor I had strength to go any further, so we
just lay there, semi-conscious, 'till a stranger came to our
rescue.
A kind man, he took us to his own home, where his wife gave us
clean clothes to wear and cups of hot tea to revive us, though I
couldn't see anything clearly. We were so exhausted we just fell
asleep right there in their home.
The
next morning, my mother thanked them and we headed home, passing
through horrific sights one after the other. The roads were lined
with the swollen carcasses of all kinds of animals; dogs, goats,
buffaloes, even sparrows. Worse were the human corpses - men,
women, children and old people. All the corpses were swollen and
people were lifting them into trucks. Some were screaming, others
were crying. The sight was worse than anything you can imagine. I
have no words to describe the devastation of that morning. When we
reached home, I found that all the leaves and fruit of our almond
tree had turned black. The fruit, suddenly rotten overnight, had
fallen to the ground. We were still not able to breathe properly
and our vision was blurred. A while later, my grandmother arrived
and took us away from Bhopal to my uncle's home.
It is an exciting romance to grow up in this city of the Nawabs
and Begums, Bhopal. But the romance ends when you think back to the
disaster of that one night. The disaster has become a part of my
very existence, because my entire childhood was spent around the
Union Carbide factory.
My home was about one km away from the factory site. We often
have to go past the site. When I was a child, a fumigation truck
came around to spray a pesticide to kill mosquitoes and would often
interrupt our play. The colour and smell of the smoke spewing from
it, all brought back memories of that one black night. Whenever we
heard the sound of that truck, all the children would run
screaming, "The gas is leaking again, run! run!" and we would run
to hide in our houses. Even though it may have been just a game
those times, it wasn't really a lie. Every so often, my friends and
I would think of going into the abandoned factory, to see what had
caused the gas leak. But we were always too scared to do that. It
was as if we lived in a city that had a big demon living in it - a
demon that no one could clean up or move from the city. There are
many children like myself who have lived near the factory their
entire lives. But I always pray that no other children should have
to live through a childhood like mine. I pray that children all
over the world may grow up in an environment that is clean and
safe, and not have to deal with the tragedy that my friends and I
had to grow up with.
Paul
My name is Paul Damore and I live in Michigan, close to the town
of Midland where Dow Chemical has its global headquaters. I'm 20
years old and am currently studying at college. Since discovering
that Dow had been busy polluting my community for years I have been
actively trying to get the company to clean up the mess in its own
backyard.
Growing up Downstream of Dow
Throughout
my younger years I would play in the floodplain of the
Tittabawassee River, which flows behind the home in which I live. I
ran barefoot through the floodplain, grabbed handfuls of soil and
threw it playfully at my brother and sisters. Eventually, I would
come back into my home covered in mud which, unknown to me at that
time, was laced with a highly toxic chemical known as dioxin. For
almost 18 years I did not know the dangers I was being exposed to
when I played in my backyard.
Down the road from my family's house is a wildlife refuge. This
was a great place for a kid like to me to explore. The refuge has
exciting bike paths and great places to fish. I remember riding my
bike through the muddy trails after it rained. I was soaked in mud,
I still remember the horrible taste of that dirt when the bike
tires would kick it up onto my face. I have not been back to the
refuge since I found out about dioxin in the soil. I now constantly
wonder if all the dirt I ate has affected me.
My
mother has lived in the Tittabawassee Floodplain her entire life.
She always told me about the days in which the river would never
freeze during Michigan's cold winters. While I was young I didn't
think that river and the soil would be harming me and others. I
never made the connection or thought about the issue of toxic
chemicals. Mind you, I didn't even take chemistry until I was 17,
and even then they never discussed dioxin. Why should I question
the safety of were I lived, that is the government's job,
right?
I had no idea that the area I was growing up in was being
polluted slowly and consistently by the Dow Chemical plant
upstream, every year for as long as they knew the authorities would
let them get away with it.
As well as not knowing about the local pollution problem I had
no idea that the same companies where acting just as irresponsibly
or worse in other parts of the world. I didn't even know about the
horrific incident in Bhopal, India until I was about 18 years old.
The disaster happened in the same year I was born. Usually when
something major like that happens it will be aired on the news for
a couple of days, then the people will never hear about it
again.
Also I never was interested in politics or sociology growing up.
My interests were in creative and performing arts, not complex laws
and long chemical names. But how quickly my mind changed when I
found out about my backyard and the problems Bhopal faces. I can
say officially I grew up when the dioxin issue was in my
backyard.
More
Read
part II of our series in which Paul and Ruby discuss what
motivated them to become active in the fight for justice in both
communities by battling against a huge chemical corporation.
Read
part III of our series to learn how Paul and Ruby are looking
to the future.
To discover more about the worst
chemical disaster ever, tune in for the new documentary "Litigating
Disaster." Visit
www.linktv.org for program times and to view a trailer.