After the alert on my phone on November 19, 2025, I suddenly had a flashback. I remembered a quiet, early summer morning somewhere in Europe — South Hungary, not far from the country’s only nuclear power station.
Every month, the siren drills happened around lunchtime, but that morning the solemn, eerie sound filled the air. My first thought was: “Just a mistake.” But it didn’t stop. It went on far too long to be just a mistake.
Panic set in. The South Slav war… had they attacked Hungary? Did they bomb the power station? I did what we were always told in case of a siren: I turned on the radio and listened carefully.
Meanwhile, my mother — who always loved a bit of drama — pulled my child out of bed, shouting: “You must get dressed — we have to flee!”
Flee? I thought. Where to? The silence from the radio about the situation was grim. Surely something serious had happened… would we all be sick and dying from radiation-induced cancer soon? Would there be enough painkillers for everyone, or only for the privileged?
After about half an hour, finally there was a public announcement: no emergency — it was just a mistake.
Even so, it was hard to believe they could not switch off the siren for so long. That day stayed with me. And now, hearing the alert in 2025, all those old fears came rushing back — a vivid reminder of how suddenly life can feel out of control.
