by Roodly Laurore
translated from Haitian Kreyòl by Jerrrice J. Baptiste
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| The gunmen who invaded Christelle Pierre’s neighborhood in July gave her a stark choice: run or die. She was six months pregnant with her first child. The men were members of one of the ruthless criminal gangs that range unchecked across this city. They swiftly burned her neighborhood to the ground. I met her here late last month, a couple of days after she had given birth atop a square of cardboard in a public park. The cloth diapers, the downy receiving blankets and the infant mattress she had carefully saved up for had burned. Gone, too, was her husband. The gangsters who overran their community shot him in the head and left his body to burn. “I can’t stay on the streets with a baby,” she told me. “But I have nowhere to go. There is no shelter, no food, no medicine, no work. There is only chaos in this country.” Haiti is in free fall. —Lydia Polgreen, The New York Times, October 12, 2022. Photo: Children slept on the floor of a makeshift shelter after they were forced to leave their homes because of clashes between armed gangs. Credit:Odelyn Joseph/Associated Press via The New York Times. |
Everywhere guns.
Bandits pass as a legal force
Installed in each neighborhood.
Not looking up, not looking down.
They spread terror, shaking people.
Grandma‘s troubled, her son is a gang member.
Not long ago he scratched her head,
Plucked gray hair for her to fall asleep.
Now killing people.
What's wrong with my grandson?
Bullets like rain fell on tin roofs.
Adults, children frozen flat on the floor
Even pregnant women and newborns.
Police in riot gear stormed a rally on Friday,
removing hundreds of protesters by truck.
Wings on our backs,
Flee the land, avoid our death.
Like fools who have lost their way
Not looking up, not looking down
Misfortune hangs over our heads
Life is hell
No calling, no answering.
***
Toupatou zam fè kenken
Bandi pase kòm fòs legal
Enstale nan chak katye
Pagen anwo pagen anba
Yap simaye laterè, fè moun pè.
Granmè gen pwoblèm, pitit li sòlda
Pa lontan li te konn grate tèt li
Rache cheve gri pou fèl dòmi
Kounyea ap touye moun
Pitit mwen sak metew nan sa?
Bal tankou lapli degrennen sou do kay
Granmoun, timoun rete plat atè
San lizaj pou fanm ansent ak bebe kap fèt
Polisye makonnen ak bandi konplike la vi
Zèl nan do, kite peyi evite lanmò.
Tankou moun fou ki pèdi rout
Sa kap moute sa kap desann
Malè pandye sou tout tèt
La vi tounen lanfè
Pagen rele, pagen reponn.
Roodly Laurore was born and raised in Haiti. He is an engineer and poet. His poems are published in Kosmos Journal, Autism Parenting Magazine, Solstice Literary Magazine, Jerry Jazz Musician, and others. Roodly lives in Haiti with his wife and two sons.
Jerrice J. Baptiste is an author of eight books and a poet in residence at the Prattsville Art Center & Residency in NY. She is extensively published in journals and magazines such as Artemis Journal, The Yale Review, Mantis, Eco Theo Review, The Caribbean Writer, and many others. Jerrice has been nominated as Best of The Net by Blue Stem. She has been facilitating poetry workshops for eighteen years.
