Haiti: Between the Cries of the People and the Silence of Politicians

Are there sounds of gunfire near you? Do you see inanimate bodies in the streets, victims of stray bullets? Neighbors fleeing their homes for safety?  There are silent tears in our hearts, tears shed from our dry eyes, because our fear chooses to cross the desert. Weapons, deaths, cries, tears, but also politicians squabbling to seize power. Such is the reality right now in our dear Haiti. The people cry, the politicians live. A perfect illustration of the crisis we are going through. Yet, I am one of those who dream. I dream of a better Haiti, every day. I dream of a Haiti where everyone could move freely, in safety. But as Yasmina Khadra, my favorite author, wrote: « To dream is not to wait, but to strive to achieve one's goal against all odds. » The people can no longer bear it. The inaction of our leaders in the face of rising violence speaks volumes about their true intentions. Their political agenda does not seem to include the Haitian population, but rather personal interests. This is serious, because isn't politics the art of managing power for the benefit of the people? A week in Haiti in one word: APPOINTMENT. At each Council of Ministers meeting, no concrete measures are taken to facilitate the free movement of citizens or combat violence. The discussions mainly revolve around appointments, without ever prioritizing the well-being of the most deprived. Wouldn't it be time to revitalize local authorities and restructure the Haitian National Police to combat armed gangs? What happened to the Superior Council of the National Police (CSPN)? What are the Ministers of Interior, Justice, or Defense doing? Why don't we have a crisis unit to reclaim lost territories? So many unanswered questions. Sadness for the population, abundance for the politicians. The crossing of the desert is still long. When will our Canaan arrive? In my last editorial, I asked the following question: « What needs to be done for Haiti? » A question that remains unanswered by the current political class. 2024 is ending as best it can, with a record of four Prime Ministers and nine presidents. Impressive figures, but no real proposals for change or actions showing a willingness to move forward. What have we done to deserve this? Immunity in a constitutional crisis Three presidential advisors are currently implicated in the BNC affair. While the political class and the population demand their resignation, they remain deaf, brandishing their immunity. What irony! To speak of immunity when we are under a de facto power, in a constitutional crisis where no elected official has been in office for three years, is very bold, gentlemen. Perhaps it would be necessary to leave the table before it is cleared, but I forget that in our country, the culture of resignation does not exist. The power cake is being fully distributed. Everyone is invited to take their share, whether at the level of local authorities, with several announced changes among mayors, or with the return of former mayor Youri Chevry, wanted by the DCPJ for criminal association. As former senator Antonio Cheramy sarcastically said: « Bravo Lwès! » Towards a new transition? We are approaching the end of the year and 2025 promises to be long, especially when we hear Me André Michel speak of a total reconfiguration of the CPT (Transitional Presidential Council) with his famous TABOULARAZA on Gazette Haiti. Does this mean a new transition? It's been three years, damn it! One doesn't change a winning team, but my question is, are the current leaders a TEAM, let alone a winning one? Given their track record, I would say no, so if you are not up to the task, sometimes you have to know how to withdraw gracefully. Forgive this lapse in language. To contain myself, I will conclude with a question to the « Mèt Peyi »: When will the elections be? He who dances on the waves cannot sink. Once again, 2024 is coming to an end and Christmas is approaching… For a people who laugh, sing, and resign themselves, what can we wish them? That of prisoners who dream of freedom, of the hospitalized patient who longs to admire a sunrise or sunset. We have known too many crossings, from Guinea to our new land. What can we wish for a new year? We know how to dance, we will not sink. Haiti, you dance so well on the waves, you cannot sink. To all of you, dear compatriots, Merry Christmas. In this wave, let us not be carried away. Do not be too depressed, we will not sink.