Plaine du Cul-de-sac: Traveling on Public Roads, an Act of Courage

This article is inspired by a report from a colleague, Roberto Vernet, author of the 'report-cœur' series on social media. It recounts the chronicle of a journey that is anything but ordinary in a particularly hostile territory. CROIX-DES-BOUQUETS, Haiti.— Under the relentless 10 AM sun, a crowded pickup truck leaves Bonrepos (Croix-des-Bouquets) bound for Delmas 32. A journey once simple, mundane for many, has become a true odyssey for passengers in the Plaine du Cul-de-Sac, trapped between chaotic urbanization, lawless zones, and dilapidated transportation. For over an hour, the route traverses the localities of Cazeau, Sarthe, Drouillard, and their landscapes of abandonment. Between anxiety, resignation, and anger, the journey has become a recital of survival and silence. Bonrepos, Departure Point Under Armed Control The journey begins in Bonrepos (at the roundabout), an area occupied for nearly two years by the men of Jeff Gwo Lwa, nicknamed “Taliban.” On the site of the old market, the pickup truck station has become a money pump for gangs. The imposed fare: 125 gourdes per person, an arbitrary 25% increase set by the masters of the territory. The scene is set: toll booth, firearms, the slightest sudden movement is punished… fear is omnipresent. Around the ruins of the sub-police station, at Carrefour Lilavois, men make the law. The driver, stoic, starts ten minutes later, heading towards Delmas. The airport roundabout, once a classic terminus, is now avoided: too risky. A Hellish Journey in Heavy Proximity The overheated cabin accommodates at least twelve passengers, packed “like sardines.” “Exorbitant price, extreme discomfort,” a passenger murmurs. “We shouldn't have to travel like this when we're paying full price for the ride,” another passenger, tinted glasses on her nose, says with palpable bitterness. At Carrefour-Marin, new frustration: the driver refuses to detour via the secondary road, which is faster but controlled by another armed group in Duvivier, demanding its own tribute. The result: the main road is imposed, despite everything. Cazeau, Sarthe, Drouillard: Symbols of Abandonment The crossing of Cazeau is marked by a heavy silence. Potholes, ruins of police stations, and the furtive presence of armed men set the scene. The vehicle struggles to cross a stretch of stagnant water. In the back, some narrowly avoid being splashed. In Sarthe, once vibrant, there are no more cries of children playing football on the “La Couronne” field. The asphalt is nonexistent, dust reigns. Iron rods protrude from the ground like traps. In front of the brewery, the irony is complete: road agents clean the surroundings of a building next to the Cité Soleil town hall, littered with debris. In Drouillard, ghosts seem more numerous than the living. The police station, the vocational training center, called the pilot center, and the surrounding buildings are deserted. Life seems to have fled. Airport Road, Striking Contrasts Arriving near the 'trois mains' axis, the smell of malt mixes with the agitation. Traffic jams intensify. At the entrance to Delmas, the appearance of luxury cars behind the windows of a few dealerships still allowed in the area contrasts violently with the miserable state of the rickety pickup truck. A “Thank you!” shouted by a passenger makes the vehicle stop near Delmas 32. It took zigzagging through alleys, avoiding ambushes, and surviving discomfort and fear to finally reach the destination. An Unsustainable Daily Life Normalized This account is nothing exceptional for Haitian users. It is the silent daily life of thousands of people forced to face, every day, a journey strewn with humiliations, dangers, and despair. The main road, once a symbol of progress, has become an allegory of the country: chaotic, abandoned, consumed by impunity and resignation. The Plaine du Cul-de-Sac – Delmas journey is a striking radiography of a fragmented capital, an erased state, and a population that moves forward, despite everything, like lemmings, in a country where traveling has become an act of courage. Jean Mapou