Our excellent demographer showed me an article which cited the Kazakh population in 1913, 1932, 1938 and 1946. Millions died in the war, millions were killed, shot and died from hunger and devastation. Have any statistics included the losses caused by atomic bomb testing, by arbitrary industrialization on Kazakh territory, masterminded by bureaucrats? Not to mention the gradual disappearance and impoverishment– of the Kazakh language! This is yet another of the multitude of tragedies about which both phrase-mongers and campaigners, to this day, remain silent.
„Oh yes, we are slowly dying,“ said my friend’s sister, when we were sitting round the dinner table. „Here, we’ve been told to keep quiet about the underground tests which are being carried out. And it’s happening right under our feet! Where didn’t I write! But no one replied. I know that American women in the state of Nevada have sit-in demonstrations. They have asked us to support their movement with peaceful demonstrations near the Semipalatinsk proving ground, but it’s unlikely that we would be given permission to do this.“ She could not bear it; she was breathless from the rush of words and began to cry quietly. Her husband put his hand on her bony shoulder, trying to calm her. The boy without hands gazed at us vacantly. He drew closer to his mother and she immediately calmed down, understanding that he was hungry. She put a piece of meat into his mouth and fed him broth.
„You try and demonstrate near the proving ground – afterwards, you wouldn’t even find a trace of human bones. Everyone remembers what it was like in Alma-Ata in the winter, during those events. I am ready to die, I try to die, but what will happen to these unfortunate cripples? They’re innocent. I’ll be straight with you. You’re a writer. You know that our people are familiar with firing squads and arrests. Perhaps it’s better to die than to live like this! And where do we go for justice? It’s a long way to Moscow. Our youngest brother disappeared after the December events in Alma-Ata and we still don’t know whether he is alive or not…“
Suddenly, the new-born baby in the suspended cradle began to cry terribly. The five-year-old armless boy quickly climbed down off the stool and began to rock the cradle with his shoulder.
„A curse upon them!“ said the woman. „A curse upon them! When he starts to cry like that it means that they’ll soon start to explode their accursed bombs again. It’s as if they wait until we go to sleep. But he always senses the coming explosion. Can you hear how he’s sobbing?“
