the Chernobyl Syndrome . . .
Two years ago today, an earthquake and tsunami triggered a meltdown at the Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear power plant in Japan. Hundreds of thousands of people living near the plant were forced to flee. A single house remains at an area wiped out by the 11 March 2011 tsunami near Ukedo port in the town of Namie, in the Fukushima nuclear disaster exclusion zone
The destroyed Tomioka station in the town of Tomioka. The town is now open to residents for short visits but they are unable to return to live. Workers have begun attempts to clean up the town but public criticism of the slow pace of decommissioning, along with the stress of working at the site, has reportedly prompted several Tepco workers to quit. Others complain that, two years on from the triple meltdown, they lack motivation, raising the prospect of a shortage of technicians and other experts when the Fukushima clean-up reaches its most critical stage
Weeds grow through cracks in an earthquake-damaged road in the abandoned town of Naraha, which was once inside the nuclear exclusion zone surrounding the crippled Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear plant, in Japan. Radiation levels in the abandoned communities have fallen 40% in the past year
Weeds grow around a seat in the abandoned town of Namie, in Futaba County, about 20 km from the plant. Though the town is outside the official exclusion zone, residents were forced to evacuate after radiation levels exceeded those inside the zone. The total amount of radiation released into the air after the colossal earthquake and tsunami was variously estimated to have been between 18 and 40% of the quantity released during Chernobyl in 1986
A deserted street in Namie. The town's 21,000 residents had to abandon their homes after the town was evacuated. Even if most of former Namie residents still hope to go back to their homes in the future, they are only allowed to return home for a few hours to minimise radiation exposure. Japan is about to embark on a clean-up that could cost at least £67bn, in addition to the cost of compensating evacuees and decontaminating their homes
Wearing white protective mask and suit, Yuzo Mihara looks at a collasped house in his neighborhood in the town of Namie. The tens of thousands of survivors living in temporary housing are yet to be resettled, a process that could take up to a decade, officials say. Social stigma attached to victims of radiation dates back to the aftermath Hiroshima and Nagasaki
Yuko Mihara inspects her beauty salon in Namie. On the evening of the disaster, an official spokesman told reporters there was no leak. When the hydrogen explosions began, the authorities continued to downplay the severity and misinform the public
Yuko Mihara cleans her kitchen covered with debris and putrefied foods two years after the 2011 earthquake. In the months following the crisis, government officials failed to alert the public to the radiation dangers. Three months later, radioactive cesium was found in the breast milk of one-third of the 27 women tested near Fukushima Prefecture and it was clear the radiation had entered the human food chain
Large black plastic bags containing contaminated soil and leaves are stocked in a temporary storage facility in the town of Naraha, Fukushima prefecture. In Fukushima prefecture alone, one-third of the land is contaminated. The region’s £2bn agricultural sector has been wiped out and the government still faces the seemingly impossible task of cleaning up the fallout over soil, forests, and waterways
Abandoned drinks and rice vending machines in Naraha. Hundreds of displaced people filed a lawsuit on Monday 11 March demanding compensation from the government and the now defunct plant's operator, Tepco
Bags belonging to children remain hanging at the abandoned Namie school. While there have been no clear cases of cancer linked to radiation from the plant, the upheaval, uncertainty about the future and long-term health concerns, especially for children, have taken an immense psychological toll on thousands of residents
Two years ago today, an earthquake and tsunami triggered a meltdown at the Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear power plant in Japan. Hundreds of thousands of people living near the plant were forced to flee. A single house remains at an area wiped out by the 11 March 2011 tsunami near Ukedo port in the town of Namie, in the Fukushima nuclear disaster exclusion zone
The destroyed Tomioka station in the town of Tomioka. The town is now open to residents for short visits but they are unable to return to live. Workers have begun attempts to clean up the town but public criticism of the slow pace of decommissioning, along with the stress of working at the site, has reportedly prompted several Tepco workers to quit. Others complain that, two years on from the triple meltdown, they lack motivation, raising the prospect of a shortage of technicians and other experts when the Fukushima clean-up reaches its most critical stage
Weeds grow through cracks in an earthquake-damaged road in the abandoned town of Naraha, which was once inside the nuclear exclusion zone surrounding the crippled Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear plant, in Japan. Radiation levels in the abandoned communities have fallen 40% in the past year
Weeds grow around a seat in the abandoned town of Namie, in Futaba County, about 20 km from the plant. Though the town is outside the official exclusion zone, residents were forced to evacuate after radiation levels exceeded those inside the zone. The total amount of radiation released into the air after the colossal earthquake and tsunami was variously estimated to have been between 18 and 40% of the quantity released during Chernobyl in 1986
A deserted street in Namie. The town's 21,000 residents had to abandon their homes after the town was evacuated. Even if most of former Namie residents still hope to go back to their homes in the future, they are only allowed to return home for a few hours to minimise radiation exposure. Japan is about to embark on a clean-up that could cost at least £67bn, in addition to the cost of compensating evacuees and decontaminating their homes
Wearing white protective mask and suit, Yuzo Mihara looks at a collasped house in his neighborhood in the town of Namie. The tens of thousands of survivors living in temporary housing are yet to be resettled, a process that could take up to a decade, officials say. Social stigma attached to victims of radiation dates back to the aftermath Hiroshima and Nagasaki
Yuko Mihara inspects her beauty salon in Namie. On the evening of the disaster, an official spokesman told reporters there was no leak. When the hydrogen explosions began, the authorities continued to downplay the severity and misinform the public
Yuko Mihara cleans her kitchen covered with debris and putrefied foods two years after the 2011 earthquake. In the months following the crisis, government officials failed to alert the public to the radiation dangers. Three months later, radioactive cesium was found in the breast milk of one-third of the 27 women tested near Fukushima Prefecture and it was clear the radiation had entered the human food chain
Large black plastic bags containing contaminated soil and leaves are stocked in a temporary storage facility in the town of Naraha, Fukushima prefecture. In Fukushima prefecture alone, one-third of the land is contaminated. The region’s £2bn agricultural sector has been wiped out and the government still faces the seemingly impossible task of cleaning up the fallout over soil, forests, and waterways
Abandoned drinks and rice vending machines in Naraha. Hundreds of displaced people filed a lawsuit on Monday 11 March demanding compensation from the government and the now defunct plant's operator, Tepco
Bags belonging to children remain hanging at the abandoned Namie school. While there have been no clear cases of cancer linked to radiation from the plant, the upheaval, uncertainty about the future and long-term health concerns, especially for children, have taken an immense psychological toll on thousands of residents
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