Over the past month, Nun Neethoudjif Méléance has fallen into a distressing routine. Each day, she anxiously checks her phone, hoping for news that her family in Port-au-Prince is still safe amidst the turmoil gripping Haiti.
As a 22-year-old teacher residing in Cap-Haitien with her brother, Nun grapples with the knowledge that 10 of her family members, including her father and siblings, are trapped in a city controlled by violent gangs. Restricted by fear and danger, they endure a semblance of existence in what feels like an open prison, unable to venture far from their shop due to safety concerns and struggling to procure goods for sale.
The United Nations paints a dire picture of Haiti on the brink of collapse, with armed gangs filling the void of authority and illegal weapons flooding the nation. Nun’s heart sinks as she opens her messaging app to find her father’s voice note, detailing yet another episode of violence nearby. Despite their perilous circumstances, her family remains hesitant to flee, rooted in their attachment to home and business.
Feeling powerless to sway her parents’ decisions, Nun reflects on her own tragic past, marked by the loss of her mother in the 2010 earthquake and the recent death of her cousin at the hands of a gang. Her father, striving to shield her from harm, urged her to pursue a life beyond Port-au-Prince’s dangers.
Yet, Nun recognizes that the cycle of violence ensnares many young lives, with gangs preying on vulnerable boys and girls. The stark reality is evident in the staggering death toll from gang violence, compelling some, like Baptiste Moudeché, to seek refuge abroad, yearning for a Haiti where peace and progress prevail under a just government.
As Cap-Haitien’s airport buzzes with departures, Haitians clutching their hopes and dreams for a brighter future, the question lingers: how long must they endure before their homeland finds respite from the grip of violence and turmoil?