By Jonasson Odigène, Le Nouvelliste, May 16, 2025
Victor lives with his wife and three children at the site of the former headquarters of the Fusion political party. Under his shelter made of metal sheets and plastic tarps, where he has been living for six months, Victor built a makeshift bed for his children to sleep on. He and his wife sleep on the ground. All around his shelter, Victor dug trenches to prevent water from entering his improvised home. Two years ago, his life turned into a nightmare.
A former resident of the Savane Pistache neighborhood in Carrefour-Feuilles, Victor was also known as an ice merchant at Carrefour Saintus. "I sold ice wholesale to retailers," he says proudly, standing at the entrance of his shelter. Through this activity, he earned a decent living. When gang members invaded Carrefour-Feuilles in the summer of 2023, Victor fled his home and practically lost everything.
"I lived for several months in a camp in the capital, then thanks to the money provided by an NGO working in the area, I was able to rent a house for shelter," recounts Victor. However, the new house he rented was located in Nazon. In November 2024, other gang members attacked his new neighborhood, forcing Victor and his family to flee once again. Now, they squat in this camp with thousands of other people.
"Now, I have no employment. I survive thanks to the help of some family members and the little aid that reaches the camp," he reports. Two of his children, who were once in school, are now out of school due to a lack of resources, like many other children who flee gang violence with their parents.
Adlène is 25 years old and must take care of her 5-year-old daughter alone. The child's father abandoned his responsibilities, Adlène explains. Together, they live in the camp located in the premises of the République de Colombie School in Bourdon. This Thursday, May 15, her daughter, who is in the third year of preschool, is not attending school. "I did not pay the school fees, and I was told that without those fees, she would not be allowed into the classroom," she said while braiding her daughter's hair.
Before leaving her neighborhood and her home, Adlène got by selling beauty products. Today, without her livelihood, Adlène relies on God, the little money she occasionally receives from her mother who lives in Pestel, and... begging when there are no other options.
Her neighbor in the camp, Françoise, a mother of two daughters, lives with her 74-year-old hypertensive mother and her husband, a former carpenter who is unemployed. Françoise still remembers the time when her food business was doing well, and she could provide for her mother and her daughters. "Here, we don’t live. We are sheltered from neither the rain nor the sun. When it rains, we have to wait for it to stop before drying the ground so we can lie down," Françoise recounts.
Despite the harsh living conditions, Françoise wants her children to continue their education. This year, she is happy that her daughters are still attending school, although she regrets that they can no longer maintain the same performance as before. Françoise’s eldest daughter is preparing to take her 9th-grade exams at the end of the school year, while the younger one is in fifth grade.
Safilia, 65 years old, also lives in the camp at the National School République de Colombie. A stroke victim four years ago, the elderly woman is accompanied by a grandson who helps her with some daily tasks. Despite her specific health condition, Safilia receives no special assistance. Like other people with special needs living in these camps, Safilia has to fend for herself every day to find something to eat.
Berline, 19 years old, lives with her family at the Office of the Citizen Protection (OPC) premises. Despite the difficulties, she continues to attend school. A student at Lycée Daniel Fignolé, which has been relocated to Delmas 33, Berline is expected to take her final school exams next July. "I am confident that I will succeed. Despite everything, I keep working to make it happen," she says. Berline faces many challenges to continue her educational journey. Every day, to reach the new premises of the school, she must walk back and forth.
Briana is a young merchant who runs a shop at the KID camp. Under her tent, which serves as both shop and bedroom, she lives with her mother, who was injured during the escape from Solino in November 2024, and her daughter. Her husband is a police officer who cannot live with them in this camp and takes refuge with a friend in Delmas. In Solino, Briana ran her shop and lived well. Today, the picture is completely different. With her small business, she struggles to make ends meet. Her daughter, who used to attend a prestigious school in the city, is having difficulty adjusting to her new environment and is showing poorer performance in class.
"This worries me even more because she wasn't like this before. I spoke with her teacher to ask for patience with my daughter given the circumstances," Briana shares. Before coming to the camp, Briana's daughter lived with an aunt in Christ-Roi. Following the gang invasion in that neighborhood, Briana was forced to take her daughter back. "I dream of renting a house, but at the same time, I hesitate because I don’t know if I won’t be forced to flee again once we are relocated," Briana worries.
Esdras is a young law and economics student. Originally from Martissant, he sought refuge at the Faculty of Law after the armed violence that shook his area. Like many young people from the provinces who came to study in the capital, his life in Port-au-Prince is marked by difficulties and instability.
When armed groups took over Champ de Mars, he was forced to flee again. Since then, he has been living in the Colbert Lochard displacement camp, located not far from Lycée Marie-Jeanne. "I want to leave, but I don’t have the means to move," he confides, visibly exhausted.
His mother, who remained in the province, knows nothing of his situation. He prefers to keep silent so as not to add to her worries. Without resources, without a job, and without immediate prospects, Esdras tries to continue his studies but admits that daily life is becoming increasingly burdensome.
"I stopped living; I’m just surviving," he says, summing up the despair of many young people displaced by violence.
The displaced had a life before and a life after being struck by gang violence. Behind these faces, sometimes given a borrowed name, there is a story—each one unique. And even if the light at the end of the tunnel seems far away, these displaced people still have their dreams and aspirations.
Posted May 21, 2025