Basil Jarrett | From cholera to child soldiers: Remembering Haiti’s children

I REMEMBER my high-school history lessons on Haiti. Once proudly declared to be the first black republic and first independent state in the Caribbean, Haiti now owns the unenviable title of being the place where every decade brings a new apocalypse. An earthquake, a coup, a hurricane, a cholera outbreak, and now, a failed state run by criminal gangs. But, somehow, the Haitian people have survived and continue to push on. But even the toughest among us can only endure so much and no more.

Last week, news came about the plight of Haiti’s children, during this current crisis. According to UNICEF, 680,000 Haitian children are now displaced. That’s twice as many as last year. That’s more than the entire population of some parishes here in Jamaica. All of them children with no school, no home, and no safe place to sleep. And that’s not counting the 3.3 million more who need humanitarian aid just to stay alive. It’s the highest number ever recorded in Haiti’s history.

Regardless of how you feel about Haiti, their role in their own demise or the impact of foreign interference on the country, one thing is certain: We have now reached a point where childhood itself has become a casualty of war.

THE COUNTRY THAT CAN’T CATCH A BREATH

Haiti has endured it all: earthquakes that toppled cities, cholera that poisoned its rivers, and now, armed gangs that rule 85 per cent of Port-au-Prince. Families are cut off from food, healthcare, and safety. Parents are forced to flee through alleys under gunfire, carrying babies wrapped in rags instead of blankets.

And, when they stop running, there’s nowhere left to go. According to the UN, refugee sites have multiplied to more than 240 across the country. Classrooms, churches, courtyards are now crammed with mothers and children. Some schools are now gang headquarters while others are makeshift shelters. Haiti’s future has literally been evicted from its classroom.

THE RISE OF THE CHILD SOLDIER

Of all the stories from the UN this week, perhaps the most chilling detail in the UNICEF report is not the number of children displaced, but how many have been recruited by gangs. The gangs offer food, protection, and a perverse sense of belonging. For a boy who’s seen his father killed or his home burned, the gun feels like power.

We’ve seen these stories before. In Sierra Leone, in Liberia, in Colombia, even here at home, gangs have attracted some of our most vulnerable. Haiti’s children should be learning to swim, to read, to dance and play Minecraft. Not learning how to reload a rifle.

If there were ever an image that summed up Haiti’s descent, it was the one from Cité Soleil last week, where a birthday party turned into a massacre. A gang leader was handing out gifts to children when drones, reportedly controlled by security forces, unleashed explosions that killed at least eight kids.

The footage online is unbearable. Mothers clutching bloodied uniforms, fathers carrying lifeless bodies that look too small to be wrapped in coffins. How do you explain to that father or that mother that their child was caught in a “counter-gang operation”? How do you tell a nation that its children are collateral damage in a war that nobody seems to be winning?

In Haiti, governance has collapsed completely. The prime minister’s office can’t be reached, the police force is under siege, and the gangs are the only ones issuing press releases. Every child killed in the crossfire, every school that closes, every refugee camp that swells, is another blow to the idea that the Haitian state still exists. And, the more the state disappears, the more the gangs fill the void.

A CARIBBEAN MIRROR

We in the Caribbean cannot afford to look away. Haiti’s implosion is not happening on another continent. It’s less than 90 minutes from Kingston by plane. We like to think of Haiti’s problems as exceptional, but they are not. When poverty, political apathy, and distrust in institutions collide, instability is the natural outcome. If we continue to treat Haiti as a cautionary tale instead of a collective responsibility, we may soon find Haiti’s problems washing up on our shores.

The new UN-backed ‘Gang Suppression Force’ (GSF) of 5,500 police and soldiers may bring some relief, but force without social rebuilding is just a brief pause in the chaos. What Haiti needs is not just boots on the ground, but books in the classroom, food on tables, and trust in the state. And, for the first time in decades, a generation that can grow up without fear.

How close are we to that? Not very. UNICEF says that ,without urgent funding, their programmes, nutrition, healthcare, clean water, will be severely constrained. And yet, the story barely makes headlines outside the region. The world has compassion fatigue, and Haiti, once again, has become a footnote.

So the question is not whether Haiti can be saved, but, rather, do we as Caribbean people have the courage to help save it. One thing is for sure, though, is that the next generation will remember our silence far longer than they will remember our speeches.

Major Basil Jarrett is the director of communications at the Major Organised Crime and Anti-Corruption Agency (MOCA) and crisis communications consultant. Follow him on Twitter, Instagram, Threads @IamBasilJarrett and linkedin.com/in/basiljarrett. Send feedback to c olumns@gleanerjm.com