The women of the basti quickly recognize Rasheeda Aapa and
Champa Devi and begin to gather around us. The cameras and new
faces are interesting enough to draw a number of bright eyed and
curious kids to stand around and observe us with some interest.
Rasheeda Aapa explains to the women that we are bringing media to
their doorstep so their problems are reported and the inaction of
the politicians highlighted. She urges them to call more women out
of their homes saying, "Unless they step out of their houses to
fight for their rights, they are never going to achieve anything."
This catalyses some of the women into action and soon we are quite
a sizeable gathering.
"We are always ill", says Ram Dulari, an elderly resident of
Atal Ayub Nagar. The water issue is so emotive and the problem so
acute that the women begin to speak almost simultaneously in
charged voices, "We all suffer from breathlessness, stomach
trouble, skin lesions, nausea and regular dizzy spells. We know
it's the water from this pump, but what can we do? We have no other
source of water but this tube well!" The tube well she is talking
about is painted red to indicate that the water from it should not
be consumed.
The Madhya Pradesh Government has marked this water source as
contaminated but has failed to provide these people with an
alternative source. The tankers that the Government claims it has
arranged are neither regular nor sufficient for the entire
basti.
"The Government doesn't care about us! We will not vote for
anybody this time unless they do something about our water!" says
Haseena Bee emphatically. All the others agree vehemently.
The water in the tube wells in 12 bastis situated around the
Union Carbide factory have been established as having ground water
that is so contaminated as to be unsuitable for drinking. This
water is laced with poisonous chemicals, some of which are even
known to accumulate in the body and cause life threatening diseases
such as cancer. These findings have been established not only by
private organizations such as Greenpeace, but by Government
agencies as well. Women are known to have a number of
gynaecological problems - including menstrual problems, early
menopause (we met a women who had attained menopause at the age of
35; and there are cases of even younger women in menopause!) Recent
studies have also found traces of mercury in samples of mothers'
milk, which means that newborn children are being exposed to these
poisons even as they enter this world - this is the legacy that
Union Carbide has left behind.
Wherever we go, we are brought water from the local pumps and
prompted to smell and taste the water. The water smells awful and
tastes even worse. Most of the journalists are too scared to even
sip at the water. The residents laughingly taunt them and say, "You
are scared to try it even once; we drink this every day!"
The children, around us, on the face of it, appear to be as
active and mischievous as any bunch of kids would. But once you
being to ask them how they feel, you realize how many visitors have
come and gone, how many stories about them written and read... Ask
just a couple of questions, and the answers trip off 12 year-old
Asad's tongue, "This water is poisoned because of the Carbide
factory. All the problems we have are because of this water. Out
here, you are considered lucky if you grow tall. I am 12, and am
only so tall (he points to his head. FYI: Asad is little more than
3ft tall!), too short for my age, but I am still taller than some
of the others..." this sets him pointing out to each of his
friends, telling me how old and yet how short they are - a 6 year
old girl as tall as my 3 year old nephew, a 16 year old boy who
doesn't yet reach my shoulder. The list goes on. As soon as he
realizes he has a willing audience, his imagination gets the better
of him and he adds, "Every time Baaji (grandmother) drinks this
water, woh paagal ho jaati hain. Hum sabko maarne lagti hai!" (She
goes mad, starts beating us all!) I laugh readily, entertained by
this glib charming boy. But in the end, apart from his obvious
jokes, I am left with the sobering reality of what he has pointed
out to me.
If I thought this was the worst I was going to see, I couldn't
have been more mistaken. In Annu Nagar, we were taken to meet
Iqbal, a 12 year old whose legs are no longer of use to him. He has
to drag himself about and it all happened suddenly when he was 7.
His mother spent all she could afford on medicines to make him
better; to no avail. Then we were introduced to Rasheed and Zarina,
both just entering their teens, and already debilitated. Rasheed is
13, and mentally challenged. Zarina, from the same basti, is 12,
and is left with the use of only one of her legs. I shudder to
think of what we will find if we actually do a house-to-house
survey.
The women are angry and threaten to sit outside the Minister's
house till he promises them clean water supplied through a
pipeline. They are up against an apathetic Government that has done
nothing to better their lot in the last 12 years and Dow Chemicals
(who took over Union Carbide in 2001), the biggest chemical company
in the world that accepts no responsibility for the
contamination.
They know that more harsh times are ahead, they have to live
through a blazing summer and worse still, a monsoon that will make
their roads unnavigable so that no tanker can come to their basti.
But as the Bhopali women say, "Hum Bhopal ki naari hain, hum phool
nahi chingaari hain!" (We are the women of Bhopal; we are not
flowers, we are flames!)
They are keyed up for a battle that will decide the future. For
them, and perhaps more importantly, for their children. It will
certainly be a summer of reckoning, in this, the 20th year of
Bhopal's tragedy.
For further information, please contact:
Vinuta Gopal, Bhopal Campaigner, Greenpeace India:
+919845535418