The screening room at Toda Peace Memorial Hall in Tokyo fell silent as Kazakh filmmaker and human rights advocate Aigerim Seitenova stepped forward in a black T-shirt and green skirt to introduce her 31-minute documentary, Jara – Radioactive Patriarchy: Women of Qazaqstan. The event was co-organized by the Kazakh Nuclear Frontline Coalition (ASQAQQNFC), the Soka Gakkai Peace Committee, and Peace Boat, with support from the Japan NGO Network for Nuclear Weapons Abolition (JANA).
The hall itself is symbolic in Japan’s peace movement. Named after Josei Toda, the second president of the Buddhist organization Soka Gakkai, it commemorates his 1957 Declaration Calling for the Abolition of Nuclear Weapons before 50,000 youth members. That appeal has become a cornerstone of Soka Gakkai’s global campaign for peace and disarmament.
Reclaiming Women’s Voices
“This film was made to make visible the voices of women who have lived in silence. They are not victims—they are storytellers and changemakers,” Seitenova told the audience of diplomats, journalists, students, and peace activists.
Her documentary, Jara—meaning “wound” in Kazakh—tells the stories of women from Semey, formerly Semipalatinsk, the site of 456 Soviet nuclear tests conducted between 1949 and 1989. Unlike earlier films that focused on physical devastation and disability, Jara explores the unseen and intergenerational impacts: stigma, psychological scars, and the inherited fear of bearing children.
“Most films show Semey as ‘the most nuked place on Earth.’ I wanted to show resilience instead of fear—to reclaim our story in our own voice,” she said.
Breaking the Silence
Seitenova’s personal connection to the issue began with humiliation. As a university student in Almaty, when she introduced herself as being from Semey, a classmate mockingly asked if she had “a tail.”
“That moment stayed with me,” she recalled. “It made me realize that nuclear harm is not only physical. It lives on in prejudice and silence.” That experience later drove her to create a film that breaks that silence.
Patriarchy and Nuclear Power
In Jara, women appear not as passive victims but as active participants in their communities, confronting the legacies of secrecy and discrimination.
“In militarized societies, nuclear weapons are symbols of superiority,” Seitenova said. “Peace and cooperation are dismissed as weak—as feminine. That’s the mindset we must challenge.” Her feminist perspective connects nuclear weapons and patriarchy, arguing that both systems thrive on domination and power over others.
From the Steppes to Global Advocacy
Born into a third-generation family affected by radiation exposure in Semey, Seitenova said her activism was inspired by “quiet endurance and the absence of open discussion.”
In 2018, she joined the Youth for CTBTO and Group of Eminent Persons (GEM) Youth International Conference organized by the Kazakh government. Young representatives from nuclear-weapon, non-nuclear, and nuclear-dependent states traveled overnight by train from Astana to Kurchatov, visiting the former test site. “It was the first time I saw the land that shaped my people’s history,” she said.
She cites Togzhan Kassenova’s Atomic Steppe and Ray Acheson’s Banning the Bomb, Smashing the Patriarchy as works that helped her articulate how nuclear policy and gender inequality are intertwined.
Shared Suffering, Shared Hope
In October, Seitenova traveled to Japan to participate in the 24th World Congress of the International Physicians for the Prevention of Nuclear War (IPPNW) in Nagasaki, meeting survivors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
“Japan and Kazakhstan share the experience of nuclear suffering,” she said. “But we can transform that pain into dialogue—and into peace.” That spirit carried into the Tokyo screening, where diplomats, journalists, and peace activists discussed nuclear justice, gender equality, and youth participation.
Turning Pain into Power
Through her organization, the Kazakh Nuclear Frontline Coalition (ASQAQQNFC), Seitenova connects nuclear-affected communities with policymakers implementing the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW).
“The fight for nuclear justice is not about the past—it’s about the future,” she said. “It’s about ensuring that no one else has to live with the consequences of nuclear weapons.”
As applause filled the Toda Peace Memorial Hall, the resonance was unmistakable—linking a hall named for a man who condemned the bomb to the wind-scarred plains of Semey, where the voices of women are finally being heard.