Central Asia: Feb '09

A report on how people coped with winter electricity shortages all over Kyrgyzstan proved an eye-opener for readers in the capital Bishkek who were unaware just how bad things were elsewhere.

The reporters who worked on the story, Kyrgyz Regions Soldier On Without Power , recalled how the people they interviewed mixed stoicism with a little hope that someone, somewhere might help them if their situation was publicised.

The article published on February 12, described how people living in provincial towns cope with serial power cuts by installing makeshift stoves in multi-storey apartment blocks. Their homes were designed to run on centralised heating and electricity networks and when these break down, people have to improvise, at the risk of burning their flats down or poisoning themselves with toxic fumes.

The report’s findings carried added weight because it was compiled by reporters from all over Kyrgyzstan.

As soon as it was published, the phones started ringing at IWPR’s office in Bishkek. Representatives several non-government groups based in Bishkek called in to express shock and astonishment at discovering the full truth about how people fare in less-well-provided for towns they have learned about situation in the regions.

Although the capital had blackouts last autumn, these were of shorter duration than elsewhere, and in the winter months the authorities managed to keep the electricity supply going by establishing notional limits for each sector of the city.

A staff member at an international media organisation, who asked not to be named, said he initially doubted the article’s veracity.

“It was the photos that accompanied the report that convinced me it was true,” he said. “It’s very sad to see the stove chimneys sticking out of the windows of modern buildings.”

It was, he said, an eye-opener. “Residents of the capital cannot even imagine how difficult life is in the provinces. You get a sense of people in a hopeless situation.”

Many of the reporters who worked on the story were all too familiar with the conditions they were describing

Jenish Aidarov was unsurprised by what interviewees in Batken told him, since he lives much the same way himself. He merely commented on the paradox of people living with such severe energy shortages in a country that is a major producer of hydroelectricity.

His colleague Janar Akaev in Osh said the chronic power cuts seemed to have been sent to try people’s patience. “But the patience of Kyrgyz people has conquered all, as ever,” he added. “We’ve made it through to the spring. Hurray! I think of the children gathered round a stove in the cold. It was like being propelled back into the past.”

He went on to observe, “I was surprised at how resigned people are; they don’t think about the fact that someone is clearly to blame for the tough situation they find themselves in. They just pray to God that the winter doesn’t turn out too harsh.”

In another southern town, Jalalabad, Sanjar Eraliev agreed that people simply adapted, however difficult things became.

When disruptive blackouts become the norm rather than the exception in urban areas, he said, “everyone memorises the power-cut schedule. And in the countryside, he added, “people have stopped worrying whether there’s electricity. The most important thing is to have a candle or a kerosene lamp”.

Zumrad Narzullaeva, reporting from the town of Karakol in the far northeast of Kyrgyzstan, said it was clear that as people told their stories, they were hoping that someone might take note of their plight and do something to help them.

“The report was very timely,” she added. “The only problem I encountered was when I needed to email pictures to the editor. That coincided with a power cut that occurred outside the published schedule. So it took close to 40 minutes to send one photo.”