PHOTO ESSAY: AP photographer chronicles Chernobyl’s painful legacy of silence, sacrifice and danger

KYIV, Ukraine (AP) — Efrem Lukatsky, a Kyiv-based photographer for The Associated Press, was living in the city on April 26, 1986, when the explosion and fire struck the Chernobyl nuclear power plant, about a two-hour drive away. He has visited the plant and the “exclusion zone” around it dozens of times. He recalls the disaster that has haunted him and Ukraine for 40 years.

It began with whispers at work.

There was no official announcement about the accident at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant when it happened in 1986 — only fragments of information passed quietly among colleagues.

I was in my late 20s at the time and was a specialized underwater welder for a Kyiv institute that sent me to offshore platforms and classified military bases across the Soviet Union.

No one spoke openly about what happened at Chernobyl — which is transliterated as “Chornobyl” in Ukraine — but unease was growing. There was a metallic taste in my mouth and a dryness in my throat. Others had it, but no one understood why.

The first official, brief acknowledgment came two days later — that an accident had occurred. Nothing more. People spoke in hushed tones about plant firefighters being flown to hospitals in Moscow.

Officially, life continued as normal.

At night, we tuned in to Western broadcasts — still considered subversive in those days — for news the state would not provide. We learned the accident had spread a plume of radiation beyond the USSR’s borders. Experts urged people to seal windows, wear masks and give iodine to children. I followed their advice, placing an iodine drop each day on a sugar cube to protect my thyroid gland from absorbing contamination.

My family home was in Kyiv, where a neighbor warned me about radioactive dust. Later, I saw her husband, a policeman, strip off his clothes in the stairwell and seal them in a bag before going inside.

A friend, a nuclear physicist, called and urged me to leave Kyiv for good, and some residents sent their children to other regions. I didn’t go. My parents were here and it was my home.

I found an old military radiation meter and checked everything — my apartment, my clothes, the streets. The readings were unsettling. At a playground, they climbed far above normal. At home, they were even higher. I used tape to lift the dust off my clothes.

Five days after the explosion, the annual May Day parade went ahead in Kyiv as planned. Thousands filled the streets, many of them children. I marched too, past a monument to Soviet founder Vladimir Lenin, and was handed a banner praising the leadership.

Days later, the city hosted a cycling race, and spectators lined the streets as if nothing had happened. The state said nothing was wrong, but we already knew otherwise.

After the accident, long columns of buses moved slowly into Kyiv, carrying thousands of evacuees from Pripyat, the city adjacent to Chernobyl where most of its workers lived.

I remember their faces — uncertain but calm. They were told they’d be gone only a few days. They left behind homes, belongings and pets who died waiting for owners who never returned.

Three weeks after the disaster, Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev addressed the nation, giving no explanation for the delay or reporting fully what had happened.

In autumn 1986, I first visited what became known as Chernobyl’s “exclusion zone,” a 2,600-square-kilometer (1,000-square-mile) area, having been sent there as part of a team from my scientific institute, and later as a stringer photographer for the Soviet magazine, Ogonyok.

Silent apartment blocks stood beside schools, swimming pools and businesses that looked as if their occupants had just stepped out.

But what stayed with me most were those sent to contain the disaster. Firefighters, we learned, had dragged hoses across wreckage, trying to extinguish a blaze that water couldn’t quench. Tens of thousands of cleanup crews, or “liquidators,” were sent in to remove contaminated soil or seal the damaged reactor in concrete. Soldiers scraped radioactive debris from the plant’s roof, risking lethal exposure in minutes.

Then there were the coal miners. To prevent the plant’s radioactive fuel from reaching the groundwater, they dug tunnels beneath it through darkness and heat, often stripped to their shirts.

We had little protection — suits, boots and masks — that felt inadequate. Before leaving, we were inspected and washed down, as if that could undo any exposure. After each trip, I sealed my clothes in bags and discarded shoes and coats.

Information remained tightly controlled. Photographers had to hand over film after each assignment.

But the truth already was spreading. People spoke more openly in Kyiv. The first protests were small and tentative but soon grew into larger demonstrations demanding answers — rallies that in turn formed the nucleus of Ukraine’s independence movement.

That was when my career as a journalist began. My photos were shown at an amateur exhibition, then published abroad. I thought I might be arrested.

By then, however, the Soviet system itself was under strain.

After the USSR collapsed in 1991 and Ukraine gained independence, I returned to the exclusion zone many times, often with scientists, police and firefighters. I was hired by the AP in 1989.

Another lasting image was seeing people awaiting medical checks. I photographed them — the very old and the very young — standing quietly for examinations for signs of illness.

Immediately after the accident, 30 plant workers and firefighters died from acute radiation sickness. Later, thousands of people died from radiation-related illnesses. Six photographers and cameramen sent there in the first days all died of illness later.

Pripyat was frozen in time. At a hospital where the first victims were treated, radiation levels remained dangerously high.

Nearby was a vast machinery graveyard: Ambulances, buses, trucks, armored vehicles and helicopters used in the cleanup were abandoned as too contaminated. To photograph them, we moved quickly to minimize exposure.

Inside the power plant, dust hung thick in the air, catching the light. We moved quickly but carefully to the control room, where a routine test for Reactor No. 4 had gone wrong at 1:23 a.m. on April 26, 1986, triggering two explosions. Many buttons from the panels were missing — taken as souvenirs.

As we moved deeper into the plant, radiation levels rose, and we turned back. Some limits you do not cross.

As years passed, the original shelter over the reactor deteriorated, opening gaps where radiation leaked out. In 2019, the entire building was covered by an enormous arch-shaped shelter, designed to last generations. It seemed the situation finally was under control.

But Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, and Moscow’s forces entered the exclusion zone, pushing toward Kyiv. The troops dug positions in contaminated soil, disturbing what had long been buried. Three years later, a Russian drone strike damaged the protective structure. There was no radiation leak, but it was a reminder that the danger persisted.

Without people, the still-contaminated exclusion zone has recovered in unexpected ways. Forests have spread. Wildlife has multiplied. Rare species now move through places once defined by disaster.

Pripyat remains frozen, but it’s no longer entirely empty, as animals roam through it.

After 40 years, that could be the clearest truth: Lives were upended, and for a long time, reality was kept hidden. But left alone, nature endures — even at Chernobyl.

This is a documentary photo story curated by AP photo editors.

FILE - An abandoned Ferris wheel stands in a city park, April 15, 2021, in the abandoned town of Pripyat, Ukraine, once home to workers and their families whose lives were connected to the nearby Chernobyl nuclear power plant. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - A radiation sign stands near the remains of a vehicle belonging to the Russian military near the Chernobyl nuclear power plant in Chernobyl, Ukraine, April 16, 2022. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - Workers examine the damage to the roof of the New Safe Confinement structure, which was built to contain the radioactive remains of Reactor No. 4 at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant, following what Ukrainian officials said was a Russian drone attack in Chernobyl, Ukraine, Feb. 14, 2025. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - A dome-shaped shelter covering the damaged reactor at the Chernobyl nuclear plant is seen on the horizon, April 15, 2021, from the abandoned town of Pripyat, Ukraine, once home to some 50,000 people whose lives were connected to the plant. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - Praskoviya Nezhyvova places a photo of her son, Viktor, who died following cleanup operations from the 1986 Chernobyl nuclear plant accident, at a monument to the victims in Kyiv, April 26, 2004. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - Bumper cars sit in a playground in the deserted town of Pripyat, Ukraine, Nov. 27, 2012, once home to people whose lives were connected to the nearby Chernobyl nuclear power plant. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - A pommel horse sits in a school gymnasium in the deserted town of Pripyat, Ukraine, April 5, 2017, once home to people whose lives were connected to the nearby Chernobyl nuclear power plant. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - A broken clock hangs on a wall in a school in the deserted town of Pripyat, Ukraine, April 5, 2017, once home to people whose lives were connected to the Chernobyl nuclear power plant about 3 kilometers (nearly 2 miles) away. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - A worker checks radiation levels after leaving a nuclear waste storage site at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant in Chernobyl, Ukraine, March 23, 2016. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - An investigator points toward damaged Reactor No. 4 inside the Chernobyl nuclear power plant in Chernobyl, Ukraine, Nov. 10, 2000. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - Portraits of Soviet officials covered by radioactive dust sit in a city club in Pripyat, Ukraine, April 10, 2006, where Chernobyl nuclear power plant workers lived and were evacuated after the deadly explosion and fire. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - Alehandra Lihova, sister of a worker who died following cleanup operations from the 1986 explosion and fire at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant, wipes away tears at a wreath-laying ceremony at a monument to victims in Kyiv, Ukraine, April 26, 2004. The monument depicts the plant and its inscription reads "Near the grave, near the Chernobyl nuclear power station, near the dead Prypiat, a tree is the cross." (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - A medical worker attends to a 17-year-old girl recovering from surgery to remove her cancerous thyroid at the intensive therapy unit of the Endocrynology Institute in Kyiv, Ukraine, Nov. 30, 2000, nearly 15 years after the explosion and fire at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - Alec Zhloba sits in a children's cancer ward with markings made by doctors on his head following chemotherapy in Gomel, Belarus, March 19, 1996, nearly 10 years after the explosion and fire at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant sent radioactive clouds through Ukraine, Belarus and other parts of Europe. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - Ivan Kalenda turns away to wipe his tears as he visits his 3-year-old grandson Vitya, right, in the children's cancer hospital ward in Gomel, Belarus, March 19, 1996, nearly a decade after the explosion and fire at the Chernobyl nuclear power plant that sent radioactive clouds through Ukraine, Belarus and other parts of Europe. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - Beds sit in a room of an abandoned kindergarten in the deserted town of Pripyat, Ukraine, Nov. 27, 2012, which housed Chernobyl nuclear power plant workers and their families. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - About 1,350 Soviet military helicopters, buses, bulldozers, tankers, transporters, fire engines and ambulances, all highly contaminated with radiation, sit abandoned in a junkyard, in Chernobyl, Ukraine, Nov. 10, 2000, after being used in cleanup operations following the 1986 explosion in the Chernobyl nuclear power plant. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File )

People hold signs reading "Down with the Chernobyl mysteries!" and "Who is responsible for Chernobyl?" during a protest rally demanding the truth about the Chernobyl nuclear power plant accident at a stadium in Chernobyl, Ukraine, April 26, 1989, on the third anniversary of the disaster. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky)

A security officer gestures to a photographer outside the gates of the Chernobyl nuclear power plant in this 1989 photo, in Chernobyl, Ukraine. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky)

Soldiers taking part in cleanup operations following the Chernobyl power plant explosion rest in a tent camp inside the "exclusion zone" in the autumn of 1986, in Chernobyl, Ukraine. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky)

FILE - Efrem Lukatsky, now an Associated Press photographer, wears protective clothes outside the sarcophagus that covers destroyed Reactor No. 4 in the Chernobyl nuclear power plant in Chernobyl, Ukraine, in this undated photo taken several years after the explosion. (AP Photo, File)

FILE - Remains of the collapsed roof at the Chernobyl nuclear plant, damaged in the separate 1991 fire in a turbine hall for Reactor No. 2, in Chernobyl, Ukraine, Oct. 13, 1991. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

FILE - The highly contaminated control room for Reactor No. 4 is seen inside the Chernobyl nuclear power plant in Chernobyl, Ukraine, Nov. 10, 2000. Engineers threw a switch at 1:23 a.m. on April 26, 1986, that triggered two explosions and the world's worst nuclear disaster. (AP Photo/Efrem Lukatsky, File)

LONDON (AP) — Inflation in the U.K. climbed in March after a sharp jump in prices at the pump in the wake of the disruption to energy supplies caused by the Iran war, official figures showed Wednesday.

The Office for National Statistics said the annual consumer price inflation rate increased to a three-month high of 3.3% from 3% the previous month. The rise was in line with market expectations.

The main reason behind the inflation spike was higher motor fuel, which increased by a monthly 8.7% — the largest increase since June 2022, shortly after the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Airfares and food prices, both related to the spike in energy prices, were also higher.

Treasury chief Rachel Reeves, whose economic plans have been blown off course by the crisis in the Middle East, said this is “not our war, but it is pushing up bills for families and businesses” as a result.

The economic fallout has put paid to any expectations that the Bank of England would cut borrowing costs. Prior to the start of the war on Feb. 28, there had been an expectation in financial markets that the bank would cut its main interest rate from 3.75% given that inflation was predicted to fall back toward its 2% target during the spring.

Inflation is set to rise further in coming months, possibly to 4%, as higher energy prices impact household bills. Economists, including policymakers at the Bank of England, will be keeping a beady eye on whether the inflation spike starts to spread through the economy, via higher wages, for example.

Luke Bartholomew, deputy chief economist at asset management firm Aberdeen, said that it will be “hard” to see workers and firms being able to push through higher wages and prices, given the relative weakness of both the labor market and the British economy.

“That should ultimately limit the size and extent of the coming inflation shock,” he said. "For now, though, the Bank of England is likely to remain in wait-and-see mode, keeping policy on hold next week and maintaining maximum optionality about whether interest rates ultimately end up increasing or decreasing later this year.”

How inflation develops will depend on what happens in the war and the crucial waterway of the Strait of Hormuz, which has been largely closed to oil tanker traffic since the onset of hostilities, stoking fears over oil and gas supplies in many parts of the world.

A resolution sooner rather than later will limit the long-term impact. With developments so fast-moving, financial markets will remain on edge and energy prices will stay volatile. Over the past couple of weeks, oil prices have oscillated between the $90-100 a barrel range, having gone even higher during the conflict. Before the war, oil prices were pretty stable around $60 a barrel.

FILE - Prices are shown on a board at a gas station in London, England, Monday, March 30, 2026. (AP Photo/Kin Cheung, File)

Britain's Prime Minister Keir Starmer leaves 10 Downing Street in London, Monday, April 20, 2026 to face a showdown in Parliament over the appointment of Peter Mandelson as ambassador to Washington.(AP Photo/Alastair Grant)