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| That Night in Bhopal On 3rd December, 1984, a deadly gas killed thousands in what came to be known as the world's worst industrial disaster. Mridu Khullar traveled to the city on the 25th anniversary of the gas tragedy 2nd December, 1984 At 9:00 p.m. on that clear winter night in Bhopal, workers were pulling down the shutters to their shops, mothers were serving dinner, and children were wathing television or getting ready for bed. They would forever be tied to what would come to be known as the worst industrial disaster in the world's history, the cause of over 20,000 deaths, and a controversy spawning 25 years. But they didn't know that yet. In Champa Devi Shukla's household, the Sunday had been spent lazily, like most of their weekends. The family of seven had a big lunch, did the laundry, cooked dinner, and watched a movie on Doordarshan. Less than a kilometer away, at the Union Carbide factory, workers were packing up after their shift, oblivious to the large amount of water that was entering tank 610. The tank contained 42 tonnes of methyl isocyanate, and at 10:00 p.m., the resulting reaction increased the temperature inside the tank to over 392 degrees Fahrenheit. The tank was never designed to withstand such pressure. By midnight, 32-year-old Champa Devi had put the children to bed. And the gases had slowly started leaking. Within minutes of the clock striking midnight, the screaming started. People clutched their throats, feeling suffocated and vomiting, unable to understand what was happening. Between 20 and 30 tonnes of MIC was released in the hour that the leak took place. Champa Devi was woken up by the shouts of the child across the street who had rented a room near the Union Carbide factory to study at night. "As soon as we opened the door, there was a rush of air. Our eyes started burning and our noses were runny. It seemed as if someone had set our lungs on fire. On a cold winter night, the hot air blew like the summer looh." Champa Devi and her husband gathered their children-- three sons and two daughters-- and followed the crowd. No one knew where to go, but everyone was hoping that someone in front of them did. "To higher ground," someone shouted. "I can't see!" screamed another. 5th November, 2009 The posters on the wall tell the story. There's a picture of a human body with names of chemicals attached to each part. "We make poisons for every part of the body - DOW," reads the caption. Another one has the picture of disabled children. "The next generation of gas and contaminated water victims," it says. On the opposite wall is a bulletin board filled with newspaper cuttings of the setbacks, and more recently the triumphs, of the victims of the Bhopal gas tragedy. This is a rehabilitation center, a school, a doctor's office, a community center. On any given day, it can be anything you need it to be. This morning, the children and their mothers are singing along with Usha, the head teacher. She was one of the children of the tragedy, too. The Chingari Trust was set up in 2004 after the founders realized that help from the government was not forthcoming, not in the ways they needed it. Not for these children, who hadn't been born when the leak happened, yet live with its affects every day. The Trust helps 300 children, from the ages of zero to 12. Seventy of them are here today. Not everyone can sing. Not everyone can understand. They've all been affected in different ways, some physically, some mentally. Studies showed that survivors suffered from partial or complete blindness, impaired immune systems, menstrual problems in women, gastrointestinal disorders, and post-traumatic stress disorders. Their second and third generations, scientists said, would likely be born with genetic defects and missing body parts. 3rd December, 1984 Thousands of people died immediately from the exposure, a number the government estimates at 2,000 and the Chingari Trust says is at least 20,000. At the bus stand, what few buses had remained were overflowing with passengers eager to get out of the city and out of reach of this invisible toxic killer. The children coughed uncontrollably, vomiting and frothing at the mouth. Champa Devi and her husband tried not to panic. With no personal transportation, they rushed to the bus stop, and in his hurry and dizziness, Champa Devi's husband stumbled and fell on to a pile of boulders, splitting his stomach. He clutched at it to stop the bleeding while she frantically called to people around to ask for help as her daughter fainted. Two hours later, the sirens had still not sounded. Workers were still in the factories, people were still dying. Union Carbide claimed there had been no leak. On the morning of 3rd December at 2:00 a.m., the hospitals started overflowing with patients who were blinded, couldn't breathe, and were writhing with the pain of the burning in their lungs. A kind couple had given Champa Devi's family a lift in their car, and she arrived in Hamidia Hospital with her husband and children to see the doctor, but was instead astonished to find a sea of people all clamoring for attention. "Any time someone would faint, doctors would assume that person wad dead. There were piles of bodies like bags of grain stacked on top of the other. We were so afraid we might be mistaken for dead as well, so we left the hospital and came back home. We didn't see another doctor for eight days." At 4:00 a.m., everything was brought under control, and at 6:00 a.m., the police announced that everything was normal. But nothing would ever be normal again for this city. Mass funerals and cremations were carried out over the next few days, including those of 1,000 animals. The effects of that day linger on even today. 5th November, 2009 Many of the children who come for rehabilitation to Chingari Trust are no longer coming from families affected by the 1984 gas tragedy. They're coming from what is currently becoming an even bigger one: Contaminated drinking water. Research coming out of Bhopal in recent years has shown that there is the continuing presence of 9,000 tons of toxic waste on the premises of what used to be the old plant. Studies indicate that tons of toxic material dumped at the old plan have now seeped into the groundwater, affecting a whole new generation of Bhopal's citizens, as many as 20,000-30,000, some of whom had been unaffected by the gas tragedy. "The gas affected people were not disabled, but those who are drinking contaminated water are showing different symptoms," says Champa Devi. Social workers say that even the kids who are showing no signs of abnormality have chemicals in their bodies that could be passed on to future generations, giving way to an even bigger tragedy of a different kind. 3rd December, 1984 Champa Devi had known of Union Carbide and the work of the factory. Not entirely, but her family had lived there since 1972 and in 1982, a fire had broken out that didn't get extinguished for three days. Then, in 1983, there was another small incident-- a leakage, she heard--in which one factory worker died. "That's when we knew that there were poisonous gases in the plant that could leak." That's also when they started noticing the strange taste that never seemed to leave their throats, or the tiny burning sensations they'd have sometimes that they'd paid no heed to. On 3rd December, when the gases leaked, Champa Devi's entire family had been smack bang in the middle of it. They lived close enough to the factory that they hadn't been able to escape the effect of the poisonous gases. Her husband got cancer very soon afterward, and succumbed to his illness 12 years later. Her oldest son who was constantly in pain and vomiting blood for years after his lungs all but collapsed, couldn't bear the illness any more and killed himself. Her youngest son died, too, also claimed by illness. Champa Devi's two daughters continue to remain unwell, both fighting for their lives. Her remaining son married, and a few years ago, his wife gave birth to a baby girl who was born with no lips. "It's not that we didn't know what Union Carbide did, but that it would become a tragedy of this scale was unimaginable." 5th November, 2009 It's 12.37 in the afternoon, almost time for the children to go home. The mothers pick up their bags, pack them up, and tell them to wave goodbyes to their friends with a promise to see each other again tomorrow. In the room next door, two journalists are looking through some of the photo albums, the journeys of these children from when they came to Chingari and the progress they've made since. With them sits the woman who made this progress possible: Champa Devi Shukla. It didn't take long after the accident for Champa Devi, a simple housewife who had never held a job, to become a social worker. With limited means that didn't even allow her to take care of her own family, she started visiting the affected areas, the slums, the broken homes, the sick people. Over and over, she found the same thing: disappointment, disillusionment, and hopelessness. But while the adults were badly affected, it was the children who were bearing the brunt of the suffering. Champa Devi started working with NGOs, going door to door trying to give medicine and aid, but like the efforts of hundreds of others, without compensation an government aid, her contribution was but a drop in the ocean. Even as Champa Devi worked to improve the conditions of others, people in her own family were dying. After her husband and two sons died and her granddaughter was born with a deformity, Champa Devi's resolve hardened. If she, a somewhat well-off person hadn't been able to save her loved ones, what hope was there for the poor who could barely afford one meal a day? "We became worried about the children, but we didn't have the monetary means to help others," she says. Champa Devi became a vocal activist of the government's inaction, giving interviews to the media, educating herself on the science and environmental aspects of Bhopal's situation, and filing cases in court. Work that earned her visibility and respect both in India and abroad, eventually winning her and fellow founder Rahida Bee, the Goldman Environmental Prize in 2004 that came with a cash prize of Rs 18 lakh. "It was a great opportunity for us," she says. "We realized that with this money, we would be able to open a trust and finally start treating children." Twenty-five years on, Champa Devi's work has only just begun. The compensation, which came in trickles, has still not reached its intended recipients. The groundwater is contaminated, and Bhopal's poor people are still drinking it. The second and third generations of the victims of the gas tragedy have still received little medicine or rehabilitation. But Champa Devi is very hopeful about the future. Her organization and supporters have grand plans for the 25th anniversary (they had not finalized details at the time the issue went to print) and say this time the government will have to listen. "Right now, there's pressure. All eyes are on Bhopal, because we've done a lot of outreach abroad and there is grave concern regarding what big companies are getting away with, both in India and the rest of the world." Recently, a Bhopal court ordered the Central Bureau of Investigation to arrest former Union Carbide chairman Warren Anderson and produce him without delay, a victory for the survivors, even if decades later. "It's not just Bhopal that's been affected by the policies of big companies, it's all of us," says Champa Devi. "We need to question what is being done, what the risks are, and if we're willing to put our populations at these kinds of risks. Our environment is being destroyed and our health is being destroyed, but it's an invisible process, so we don't see it. Our fight is important because when teh people of Bhopal get justice for what happened in 1984, companies will be afraid to repeat the same mistakes. That is something from which the whole world will benefit." |
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