FUKUSHIMA CITY, May 20, 2011 (AFP) - As more people are forced to
leave their homes around the stricken Fukushima nuclear plant, anger
is growing in a farming community forced to make the agonising
decision whether to slaughter livestock or face ruin.
The desperate lowing of starving cattle echoes out across the valleys
surrounding Katsurao -- the only noise breaking an unearthly silence
which envelopes the hamlet.
No one is seen during daylight except a few farmers making the
difficult and dangerous journey back to their land to feed cows, pigs
and chickens.
Katsurao, 25 kilometres (16 miles) northwest of the Fukushima Daiichi
nuclear power plant, is among the communities newly designated as
no-go zones, meaning no one will be allowed in from as early as late
May.
More than 10,000 cows -- prized for their marbled beef and rich milk
-- have already been left behind in the scramble to escape Fukushima
prefecture, many of them locked in sheds where they starved to death,
farmers have said.
As the no-go zone spreads, ever more farmers are being forced to make
agonising decisions over whether to move their livestock to safe areas
and incur huge costs, slaughter their animals or -- perhaps the most
unacceptable option -- leave them to their fate.
While local authorities have given no mandatory instructions, they are
"strongly urging" Katsurao farmers to empty their sheds before the
no-go zone is enforced, officials said.
At best they will earn a one-off payment for the meat but they will
get nothing if their livestock are found to be highly contaminated.
Quite what price a cow might raise now is anyone's guess: many
emaciated animals have eaten little for weeks, locked up in sheds by
owners who have long since fled, fearing high levels of radioactivity.
Others, untethered by their desperate owners, roam in search of food.
"That cow, over there, will die in a few days as it cannot come and
eat with the others," said Shinji Sakuma, pointing to one of his 70
milk cows that was too weak to stand by itself.
"I am frustrated," said the overwrought 55-year-old at the Sakuma
Ranch he started 35 years ago.
"Our cows have done nothing wrong, haven't they?" he said, wiping away
tears of anger and frustration.
The authorities have yet to make an announcement on compensation for
affected farmers but the central government says Tokyo Electric Power
Co. (TEPCO), which runs the disaster-hit atomic plant, is responsible
for paying all damages.
Tetsuji, Samuka's 35-year-old son, is not looking for a fortune --
just a safe farm, clean grass and healthy cows.
"We don't need money as long as we can get back what we used to have,"
said Tetsuji, whose family plan to move 20 of their cows to the
northern island of Hokkaido, although Katsurao's authorities, fearing
the spread of radioactive contamination, have urged owners to
slaughter.
His sister Ruriko, 33, who was also visiting the ranch with her
family, said she was scared witless by a series of strong aftershocks
and fears the prevailing wind, which carries with it radiation and the
threat of desolation.
"The east wind is scary," she said. "Radiation is invisible with no
smell. Once things are settled, I will leave Fukushima, where we have
been haunted by radiation fears all day long."
Prime Minister Naoto Kan's government banned people from going within
20 kilometres of the plant last month and has recently instructed
farmers in the zone to slaughter thousands of cattle and other
livestock.
"We are urging our farmers to move their cows outside or auction them
as quickly as possible" as a similar instruction may be imposed on
livestock in Katsurao soon, said Hiroyoshi Tuboi, a village official.
More than 4,000 cows as well as tens of thousands of chickens were
being raised in the village of 1,500 people, mostly farmers and
forestry workers, before the disaster.
The Fukushima plant, where reactor cooling systems were knocked out by
the March 11 quake and tsunami, leaked radiation into the air, ground
and sea in the world's worst nuclear disaster since Chernobyl 25 years
ago.
"I thought Chernobyl was someone else's problem," said Toshie Kosone,
another cattle farmer in Katsurao.
"We will dispose of all of our cows even if they can be sold or not,"
Kosone said. "Even if we can come back here there is no guarantee that
contamination can be removed. I have no confidence in resuming farming
here anymore."
But livestock farmers are not the only villagers who are feeling the bite.
Yuko Sugimoto, 56, who ran cottages in Namie, another village newly
designated as part of the no-go zone, had planned to raise and sell
organic vegetables this year.
"We spent years creating chemical-free soil for organic vegetables but
now it's covered with radioactive materials," Sugimoto said. "What an
ironic consequence. The nuclear accident messed up my dream."
