In the early hours of June 30, I received news of the brutal killing of Antoinette Duclaire, known as Netty, a young Haitian journalist and feminist activist who I had last seen marching during a protest. One week later, on July 7, I learned of the assassination of Jovenel Moïse, de facto president of Haiti.
Human rights organizations in Haiti report that, between August 2020 and May 2021, at least 81 people were killed violently. But how do you count despair? How do you measure the heaviness of feet across the dangerous streets of my city? How do I recall the frequent losses without turning my friends into mere statistics?… Seguir leyendo »
At 8 o’clock on Easter morning, the preacher at the Reformed Baptist church near my house was back to exhorting the young people not to have sex before marriage. He no longer brandishes the earthquake as proof that some malevolent God is angry with Haiti for its sins.
On Monday morning, school was supposed to have started again. But it was a very timid reopening. After all, most schools are still covered with debris. And most parents are afraid to let their children go inside.
Three months after the earthquake, some of the customary cadence of life has returned. People still argue and laugh, they still fight and kiss under the trees.… Seguir leyendo »
The family has set up camp in my brother’s house. I live just next door, but it makes us feel better to be all in the same house. My brother, a novelist, is writing his articles; I am writing mine. From time to time a tremor will make us pause and run back outside, just in case, to be safe. I wonder how long we will have to be so cautious, and I long for normalcy.
We sleep; we listen to the radio; we exchange information. Mostly, we have been trying to stay alive and sane since that Tuesday afternoon a week ago when the earthquake changed our lives forever.… Seguir leyendo »