Despite Billions In Aid, Many Haitians Still Live In Squalid Camps
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David Gilkey/NPR -
David Gilkey/NPR -
David Gilkey/NPR -
David Gilkey/NPR -
David Gilkey/NPR -
David Gilkey/NPR -
David Gilkey/NPR -
David Gilkey/NPR -
David Gilkey/NPR -
David Gilkey/NPR
Saturday marks the third anniversary of the powerful earthquake that destroyed much of the Haitian capital, Port-au-Prince. The quake killed roughly 200,000 people and left 1.5 million Haitians homeless.
Despite billions of dollars in international aid and pledges to help Haiti rebuild from the disaster, very little new, permanent housing has been built. And about 350,000 Haitians are still living in squalid, makeshift camps — where they face an array of health challenges.
There's been an epidemic of sexual assaults on women living in the camps. And residents complain that unsanitary conditions and numerous cooking fires in the cramped quarters have caused respiratory problems among the children.
Jacqueline Syra has been living in the La Piste camp for three years. She says she has no idea when she will be able to leave.
Fears, however, that cholera would spread rapidly through the overcrowded settlements never materialized. Aid workers say this was probably because of the treated water distributed in the camps.
When the earthquake struck in January 2010, Jacqueline Syra was nine months pregnant with her third child. Her house near the sprawling slum of Cite Soleil collapsed, she says, killing her husband.
Syra, along with tens of thousands of other people, moved on to an abandoned military airport known as La Piste.
Syra never expected that three years later, she'd still be living on the runway.
"We are not living well in the tents," she says. "Sometimes men get in here and attack me or rob my things."
Her shack is a patchwork of fraying tarps that are tied together with blankets and strung over a skeleton of mismatched sticks. Two motorcycle tires on the roof keep the cloth from flapping in the wind. She uses the front of an old portable toilet as the door to her shelter. There's no electricity, and she cooks on the dirt floor.
Syra shares this shelter with her three children.
"I don't sleep well, I don't eat well," says the rail-thin, 49-year-old mother. "I was a fat woman, and look at me now. I lost a lot of weight because I cannot sleep or eat well here."
This flimsy three-story house, which was rebuilt after the earthquake in January 2010, will have to be demolished to make way for an 18-unit housing project. Many homes that were rebuilt after the quake are even more dangerous than the original ones.
At its peak in 2010, this camp held roughly 50,000 residents, according to humanitarian officials. La Piste is less crowded now, but there are still tens of thousands of people here. Women bathe naked with buckets at the public water taps. Kids scurry along trash-filled ditches.
"I don't know when I'll leave," Syra says. "I don't know how long I'm going to be here."
After the quake, international aid agencies were busy keeping people alive, says United Nations spokesman George Ngwa. They provided Haitians with basic tarps for shelter, removed most of the rubble, paved roads and, yes, even built some housing.
"I do understand those who think that there isn't much to show for all that has happened since 2010, but there is a lot that has happened," he says.
Clement Belizaire directs relocation and rehabilitation in Haiti's reconstruction program.
But Ngwa, who works at the UN's Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs in Haiti, does admit that some mistakes were made in the rush.
For example, "new houses were built in areas that had no sustainability in terms of jobs for the people who were supposed to move there," he explains. "So some of them abandoned the new houses, and they're back in the camps."
Immediately after the quake, billions of dollars were pledged by international donors to help Haitians recover. Despite this, only about 5,000 units of permanent housing have been built.
The grand plans to "build back better" have evaporated.
Instead, President Michel Martelly launched a program aimed at getting people to leave the camps. The government offered them a rental subsidy of $500 and $150 in cash to anyone willing to vacate several public parks; 100 percent of the residents in all of the targeted camps agreed to the deal and moved out.
"The overall budget for this program was $78 million," Clement Belizaire, who directs the relocation and rehabilitation in the government's reconstruction program, tells Shots.
He says his office initially focused on trying to repair the damaged houses of camp residents. But this only affected about 10 percent of the camp population, he says, and only temporarily.
"So after a while, that 10 percent is replaced, the camp fills back up. So we came [up] with a rental subsidy," he explains. "That's only when we started to see camps that were cleared completely."
Rose Lermonis spent months living in what she calls an "awful" camp in Petionville, a suburb of Port-au-Prince. A rental subsidy program helped her to move out temporarily.
His program is also involved in building several dozen new houses and rehabilitating destroyed public infrastructure — roads, electricity lines and sewers — in neighborhoods that are receiving thousands of the former camp residents.
Rose Lermonis, who moved with her family into a tarp-covered shack in a public park after the earthquake, should be one of the success stories of Belizaire's resettlement program.
The 52-year-old mother spent more than a year in what she says were terrible and terrifying conditions in the camp. Then in November 2011, she got a subsidy to rent a small cinder block hut. But once that money was gone, she could no longer pay the rent and had to move with her children to a room owned by her sister.
"You see, all the people who used to be in the tents are still living in misery, because they don't have jobs," she says. "If they don't have a child or someone to support them, they have nothing."
Before the earthquake, Haiti was the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. As it moves on from the disaster, the nation is still burdened with all the problems it had before its capital was destroyed.
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Transcript
MELISSA BLOCK, HOST:
Three years after a powerful earthquake destroyed much of Haiti's capital, hundreds of thousands of people there still live in squalid, makeshift camps. The anniversary of the quake is tomorrow. It killed roughly 200,000 people and left one and a half million homeless. Billions of dollars were pledged and spent to help Haiti rebuild, but as NPR's Jason Beaubien reports from Port-au-Prince, those donations produced very little new, permanent housing.
JASON BEAUBIEN, BYLINE: When the earthquake struck in January of 2010, Jacqueline Syra was nine months pregnant with her third child. Her house, near the sprawling slum of Cite Soleil, collapsed, she says, killing her husband. Syra, along with tens of thousands of other people, moved on to an abandoned military airport known as La Piste. Syra says she never expected that three years later, she'd still be living on the runway.
JACQUELINE SYRA: (Speaking foreign language).
BEAUBIEN: We are not living well in the tents, she says. Sometimes men get in here and attack me or rob my things.
Her shack is a patchwork of fraying tarps tied together with blankets strung over a skeleton of mismatched sticks. Two motorcycle tires on the roof keep the cloth from flapping in the wind. Her green plastic door used to be on the front of a portable toilet. There's no electricity and she cooks on the dirt floor. Syra shares this shelter with her three children.
SYRA: (Speaking foreign language).
BEAUBIEN: I don't sleep well, I don't eat well, says the rail-thin 49-year-old. I was a fat woman, and look at me now. I lost a lot of weight because I cannot sleep or eat well here.
At its peak in 2010, La Piste held roughly 50,000 residents, according to humanitarian officials. The camp is less crowded now but still holds tens of thousands of people. Women bathe naked with buckets at the public water taps. Kids scurry along trash-filled ditches.
SYRA: (Speaking foreign language).
BEAUBIEN: I don't know when I'll leave here, Syra says. I don't know how long I'm going to be here.
GEORGE NGWA: I do understand those who think that there isn't much to show for all that has happened since 2010, but there is - there's a lot that has happened.
BEAUBIEN: George Ngwa is the spokesman for the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs in Haiti. Ngwa says after the quake, international aid agencies kept people alive, provided Haitians with basic tarps for shelter, removed most of the rubble, paved roads and, yes, even built some housing.
NGWA: In the rush to solve that problem, some mistakes were made. For example, housing solutions were found, new houses were built in areas that had no sustainability in terms of jobs for the people who were supposed to move there. So some of them abandoned the new houses and they're back in the camps.
BEAUBIEN: Immediately after the quake, billions of dollars were pledged by international donors to help Haitians recover. Despite this, only about 5,000 units of permanent housing have been built. The grand plans to build back better have evaporated.
Instead, President Martelly's administration launched a program to provide a $500 rental subsidy and $150 in cash to anyone willing to leave several public parks; 100 percent of the residents in all of the targeted camps agreed to the deal.
CLEMENT BELIZAIRE: The overall budget for this program was $78 million.
BEAUBIEN: Clement Belizaire is the director of relocation and rehabilitation for the government's reconstruction program. He says initially his office focused on trying to repair the damaged houses of camp residents. But Belizaire says this only affected about 10 percent of the camp population and only temporarily.
BELIZAIRE: So after a while, that 10 percent is replaced, the camp fills back up. So we came with a rental subsidy, and that's only when we started to see camps that were cleared completely.
BEAUBIEN: His program is also involved in building several dozen new houses and rehabilitating destroyed public infrastructure - roads, electricity lines, sewers - in neighborhoods that are receiving thousands of the former camp residents.
Fifty-two-year-old Rose Lermonis should be one of the success stories of Belizaire's resettlement program. When the quake hit in 2010, Lermonis' house on a steep hillside overlooking Port-au-Prince collapsed into the ravine below.
ROSE LERMONIS: (Speaking foreign language).
BEAUBIEN: After the quake it looked like a desert here, she says. Everyone was gone. Pointing at my feet, she adds, there were four bodies right there where you're standing. Lermonis moved with her family into a tarp-covered shack in a public park in the Port-au-Prince suburb of Petronville(ph). She spent more than a year in what she says were terrible and terrifying conditions in the camp.
Then in November 2011, she got a subsidy to rent a small cinder block hut. But once that money was gone, she could no longer pay the rent and had to move with her children into a room owned by her sister.
LERMONIS: (Speaking foreign language).
BEAUBIEN: You see, all the people who used to be in the tents are still living in misery, she says, because they don't have jobs. If they don't have a child or someone to support them, they have nothing.
Before the quake, Haiti was the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. As it moves on from the disaster, the nation is still burdened with all the problems it had before its capital was destroyed. Jason Beaubien, NPR News, Port-au-Prince. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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