Gade pa boule je

Welcome to the latest edition of Woy Magazine’s biweekly newsletter, providing you with must-know news and commentary on Haiti and our Diaspora.

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Gade pa boule je
Looking doesn’t burn the eye
(Haitian proverb)

*We translate the Haitian proverbs literally to challenge you to discover the spirit of the proverb for yourself. Did you understand today’s proverb?

Editor’s Note

There are women in this world that I like to describe as balls of light. They’re the kind of people whose warmth and energy are undeniable, even from a distance. The light shows up in the way they hold a conversation, the way they move through their work, the way they walk into a room. It isn’t quantifiable, but I’m as sure of it as I am of anything else. I’ve been lucky enough to meet one every so often. I never met Nancy Metayer, but the first photo of hers I saw and every testimony about her I’ve read assure me she belongs to this group of women.

The news of Nancy Metayer’s death has been sitting on my chest for the last week. It’s a lot to hold — the constant violence we experience at the hands of this world as Haitians, as Black people. And as we claw our way through this violent, racist world, the stories of women and girls hurt along the way stop us in our tracks. And we remember: the violence is layered and has seeped its way deep into the souls of people we attempt to build community and family with, the very people we sought refuge with from the violence outside. I’ve been sitting with that thought all week.

Nancy’s life was stolen a few days before April 3, National Day of the Haitian Women’s Movement. This day marked the 40th anniversary of one of the most important protests Haitian women organized throughout the country in 1986, after the fall of Duvalier. The march was one action born of a cross-class coalition to denounce violence, discrimination, and exclusion. Nancy’s life and work are a part of this legacy, and Nancy’s death is a call to go harder.

In Haiti, feminicide has no legal recognition as a crime, rendering murders of women statistically and politically invisible. In 72% of documented cases, the perpetrator was a current or former partner, the violence an open secret that was rarely reported or addressed. How sobering that such cruelty would follow us even in the dyaspora, in the place where our parents fought to give us a better life. How sobering, too, that while we fight the systems that seek to exploit and destroy us, there are forces that seek to destroy us in the safety of our homes.

I didn't know Nancy, but I don't think she would've chosen to be a lesson in this way. The thing about light is that while it is warming, it is also exposing. It challenges us to be more truthful, to work harder, to be better. And Nancy, your light continues to shine through the work you laid the foundation for, and on the work that will continue after you.

May you find rest, Nancy, among your ancestors, in the arms of a konbit of Haitian mamas, tatis, and marenn who came before you and fought for your people as you did.

Talie
Editor, April 2026

POLITIK/POLEMIK

A report published by Fondasyon Je Klere (FJKL) in March condemned a series of contracts signed by the Fils-Aimé administration, including one to build and manage three prisons in Haiti. The terms of the contract were so disadvantageous to Haiti that FJKL characterized this agreement as an abdication of national sovereignty.

We have since learned, according to Le Nouvelliste, that Lakoudèkont opposed the contracts when they came up for review before this high court of auditors, forcing the government to abandon them. This outcome demonstrates that civil society organizations committed to sounding the alarm and accountability do have an impact on the decisions of these unelected leaders.

The government has, however, moved on to find other contracts to build prisons by the end of the year. With the gradual departure of the Kenyan police and the staggered arrival of troops from Chad, Fils-Aimé’s government’s plan for elections consists of maintaining UN troop presence and throwing people in these new jails that don’t yet exist. All of this in a context where courts in Pòtoprens and Taba have not held criminal proceedings with juries regarding crimes like murder and rape in eight years.

And yet, even if Haiti had a ruthless police force or army, ample prisons, and functioning courts, the reality of state brutality and mass incarceration hold no real solutions for the Haitian people. The failures of these systems worldwide prove that a similar infrastructure would only exacerbate the root causes of inequality, state abandonment, and elite collusion at the heart of this crisis.

What kinds of systems do we build for a sustainable Haiti? Given that the total elimination or indefinite detention of gang members is neither feasible nor ethical, what viable options do we have that center justice, truth, and healing?

According to an IRAP survey we referenced recently, while many respondents favored an escalation in security operations, more than half indicated an openness to formal government dialogue with gang leadership. This is a significant shift on the issue of negotiating with the gangs, which is often perceived as shameful because it is conflated with amnesty for the gangs in the public discourse.

According to the United Nations, the recruitment of children into these gangs is growing at an alarming rate, as these criminal organizations increasingly exploit vulnerable youth who lack access to food and basic services. These children are being driven into gangs by systemic poverty, lack of education, and extreme economic hardship. In 2025 alone, the number of children used by armed groups in Haiti surged by an estimated 200%, according to UNICEF.

What mechanisms can be put in place to provide these children with resources, care, and opportunities? Over the next few newsletters, we will explore what strategies Haitians and their institutions are exploring to address this crisis and rebuild.

MIGRASYON

Such progress is rarely accidental — it is the hard-won result of strategic intervention by activists and organizers. These advocates work within the halls of power to influence decision-makers and secure protections that might otherwise be overlooked.

Organizations like Haitian Women for Haitian Refugees, Family Action Network Movement in Florida, and the Haitian Refugee Center in Miami have been leading the fight to protect and support Haitian immigrants and their rights in the United States.

The history of principled organizing on behalf of Haitian migrants in the United States was recounted in a recent piece by Woy Editor Talie, writing for Hammer & Hope.

Ninaj Raoul, co-founder of Haitian Women for Haitian Refugees and its executive director for 33 years, sees the current upheaval in decades of context. “Haitians have always been under attack,” she said.

Raoul looks to the history of the Haitian Refugee Center in Miami, led by Father Gérard Jean-Juste, and Haitian resistance in the 1970s, during the earliest wave of Haitians’ arriving to the United States by boat, attempting to flee the brutal dictatorship of Jean-Claude Duvalier. Haitians who arrived on U.S. shores were designated as economic refugees, not political ones, making them ineligible for asylum. Activists, including Jean-Juste, fought this categorization. This struggle “wasn’t new when we started, and it’s not new now for us,” Raoul told me. (Source: Hammer & Hope)

The Supreme Court is set to hear oral arguments in late April 2026, with a ruling expected by July that will determine whether the Trump administration has the authority to terminate Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for hundreds of thousands of Haitian and Syrian immigrants.

The outcome of this case carries major implications for thousands of Haitians who have been legally living and working in the U.S. for years. For the time being, USCIS has extended employment authorization for Haitian TPS holders to July 1, 2026.

Sponsored by Rep. Ayanna Pressley (D-Mass.), a discharge petition for a resolution that would force the Trump administration to extend TPS legal protections for Haitians reached the floor of the House of Representatives on Friday, March 27. If passed, the resolution would legally require the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) to maintain Haiti’s TPS through January 20, 2029.

The push for this petition was led by several prominent figures and advocacy groups, including Boston City Council President Ruthzee Louijeune. Organizations like the Institute for Justice & Democracy in Haiti (IJDH) played a central role by organizing large-scale phone banks. These efforts provided supporters with specific scripts to use when contacting their congressional representatives, urging them to officially sign on to the discharge petition.

ON THIS DAY

April 3rd is the National Day of the Haitian Women’s Movement. On this day, activists and feminist groups commemorate one of the most important protests Haitian women organized throughout the country in 1986, after the fall of Duvalier.

This protest is considered a pivotal moment where women’s organizations that had been working in the shadows against the Duvalier regime officially revealed themselves in the public sphere. This is how sociologist Dr. Sabine Lamour, describes this landmark event:

“Les 30,000 femmes manifestant à Port-au-Prince avaient une revendication commune : la participation des femmes à la gestion de la chose publique dans uncontexte où l’espace public est aussi organisé en fonction des rapports de pouvoir entre les sexes (CONAP 2008; Magloire et Merlet 1996; Neptune Anglade 1986).

Ces 30 000 femmes ont manifesté à Port-au-Prince, et des centaines d’autres ont manifesté dans d’autres villes secondaires du pays, par exemple à Cap-Haïtien (Le Cap)”. (Source: Mouka)

Ten years after the 86 march, in an interview with Radio Haiti, two of the instigators of the demonstration — Daniele Magloire and Myriam Merlet — described the popular nature of the protest with demands to be involved in the writing of the new constitution and demands for good working conditions.

This year, to mark the 40th anniversary of this important day, Haitian women in Okap and Pòtoprens marched again to denounce violence against women and demand that their voices be heard.

KILTIRÈL

Rara season has come to a close in Haiti with the arrival of Easter Sunday. This centuries-old tradition of street procession and musical performance draws from the spiritual practices of our African and Taino ancestors.

There is much confusion when it comes to retracing the history of Rara. According to some, such as Harold Courlander, Moreau de St. Rémy and Jean-Baptiste Roumain, Rara traces back to Africa and was adopted in Haiti through slavery. However, according to others, Rara is a colonial heritage, given to the colonies as a recreational day. Jean Coulanges says Rara “comes from the times of the indigenous peoples of the Americas, where the Mayans had a day of pleasure dedicated to nature.”

The word “Rara” comes from the Yoruba language (meaning, “loud” or “a lot of noise”). We have known rara from the beginning of colonial times. It calls upon the principles of the religious African kingdom of Congo which prospered during the 14th and 15th centuries. It wields specifically the spiritual power of “Petwo” (the aggressive side of Vodou) and “Bizango” (the secret societies). However, well before Christopher Columbus arrived and killed 250,000 Tainos that were living on the island, the indigenous people of the island held festivals that strongly resemble what we celebrate as rara today. Source: Woy Magazine