‘As if the soil itself is weeping’

Thirty-five years have passed since the last nuclear bomb was detonated at the Semipalatinsk test site in Kazakhstan, but the pain has not faded.

This is the first hand account of Cork humanitarian and founder of The Greater Chernobyl Cause, Fiona Corcoran as she writes home from Semey, a city haunted by the legacy of the world’s most enduring nuclear wound.

Fiona has returned to the Semipalatinsk test site, known as the Polygon, for 25 years and is each time struck afresh by the scale of suffering left in the wake of the site’s closure.

“The Polygon is not merely a place on a map—it is a living graveyard, where the earth itself remembers every explosion and every cry of anguish,” said Fiona.

“Some days, it feels as if the soil itself is weeping for all it has seen.

“No one who stands here can ever forget the horror that was unleashed, or the suffering that continues to bleed through the generations.”

Over the course of forty years, the Soviet Union detonated 456 nuclear bombs at the infamous site, causing immeasurable damage to the land and bringing illness and despair to more than 1.5 million innocent people living nearby.

The end of testing was not the end of violence, but the beginning of a new, invisible agony, warned Fiona.

"I see its evidence everywhere: children born with deformities so severe they will never walk, see, or speak; mothers who have endured miscarriage after miscarriage.

“I have seen sons curled on makeshift beds, refusing to leave their father’s side, desperate to give comfort where medicine could not. I have seen wives, voices trembling, murmuring last words to husbands as the night deepens; mothers cradling their dying children in one last, aching embrace.

“I have held the hands of mothers who have lost every child, of children who never had a chance to dream. The grief here is unending.”

Since Fiona’s first visit in 1999, The Greater Chernobyl Cause has rebuilt orphanages, created state-of-the-art facilities from the ruins of psychiatric homes and hospices, and delivered desperately needed medical equipment to clinics in remote rural areas.

The Cork-based charity has also built community centres, installed greenhouses, and constructed new irrigation systems.

One of the charity’s biggest achievements there has been the transformation of a former Red Cross hospice into a sanctuary where the dying can spend their final days. From there, mobile palliative care teams can reach people living deep in the countryside.

Hope

However, amidst the unimaginable daily struggles faced by those living in the radiated shadow of the Polygon, there are now “unmistakable signs of hope”, said Fiona.

“For the first time, the Mayor of Semey, Adilet Nursagatuly Kozhanbayev, has not only opened his doors to us, but has pledged unwavering support,” she said.

“His progressive leadership and willingness to listen and act has brought new energy and possibility to our mission,” Fiona added.

As part of his pledge, Mr Kozhanbayev has promised to address the restoration of hot water and the reparation of essential equipment, while supporting the vision for dignified, compassionate end-of-life care.

“The 35th anniversary of the Polygon’s closure is not a milestone of progress, but an alarm bell that must ring out to the world,” said Fiona.

“The radioactive wound is open, and it bleeds through every generation. I appeal to every person who reads these words: do not look away. The survivors of the Polygon have been abandoned long enough. Let this anniversary be remembered not for silence, but for action,” she said.

To donate or learn more, visit: greaterchernobylcause.ie.