A nun in Haiti has been helping street children for the past 50 years. This charismatic
figure who also works for social peace has, during her years in Haiti, come into
contact with them all: from “Papa Doc” Duvalier to Aristide. She has lived through
the golden years of American tourism and the lowest misery of recent years. This
brave woman has only told her story a few times.
Port au Prince, Haiti, November 2004 - Sister Anne is by now considered an institution
in Port au Prince, the chaotic capital of Haiti, having arrived here 50 years
ago. “They sent me here and I willingly accepted, knowing that this was a desperately
poor country. It was my mission”, she says.
In the shanty towns, with the street children, surrounded by mountains of uncollected
rubbish, in the midst of social and human degradation, afflicted by socio-politically
created violence and chaos: this is where Sister Anne works. She has just celebrated
fifty years of religious service, all of which have been spent in this infernal
country situated in the heart of Caribbean paradise.
Here in Haiti she has seen everything and known everyone. “But,” she says, “after
all these years, I’m still not sure I’ve really understood Haitian society.”
As well as the golden years of mass tourism from the USA, she also remembers
the misery together with the numerous heads of State including dictators like
“Papa Doc” Duvalier who even visited her during his regime. “Duvalier was good
to us. When two of his men wronged me, he personally came to my aid. Although
he was a dictator, people were not afraid of him like they were of other politicians
who came after him. In fact once he
came here to the school and saw that the girls were scalding their legs by eating
from hot plates on their laps and so he provided us with tables and a dining room.
Just so long as you didn’t cross him personally.”
She survived unscathed from the latest civil war to affect Haiti and its people,
but as this courageous woman –first and foremost a Salesian nun - tells her story,
she says she does not consider there to be peace whilst the guns continue to fire.
For her, the worst ever war is still underway: the war amongst the poor.
Her daily work takes place in a school in the tragically infamous quarter of
Citè Militeire which, alongside Citè Soleil is one of the most dangerous areas
of the capital Port au Prince; a place where the constant sound of gunfire still
rings out and the death toll continues to rise.
Sister Anne’s day unfolds between her religious vocation and her constant desire
to do good (“my mission”) by helping street children to find the way to a better
future: one of peace and social stability. “I help them because they help me to
help”, she says humbly.
There are 104 young girls from the streets in the Salesian run institution; girls
who would otherwise have had no future. “They used to wander around the streets
and sooner or later they would have fallen into crime or prostitution. Who knows
what would have become of them, but now they are here with us. Fourteen of them
sleep here too.”
The situation for children in Haiti is horrendous. “The other day one mother
brought her daughter here and asked me to take her in. She was even willing to
let her sleep under one of the beds as even that was more than they had at home.”
Together with Sister Anne, four other sisters – champions of peace and solidarity
- help her to look after the children. “It is also thanks to the hard work of
these sisters”, says Sister Anne humbly, “that all this is possible”. Together
they try to welcome, educate and feed hundreds of children: doing anything they
can to get them off the streets. The school has over 1000 pupils.
During her years of hard work, Sister Anne has legally adopted 150 children and
has helped to find homes for many others who would have otherwise remained on
the streets. “I’ve never counted them and I wouldn’t know how many there have
been, but if you bear in mind that between these two districts there are tens
of thousands of poor people….”
Sister Anne has dedicated her whole life to others; to the weakest, the abandoned,
the orphaned. In the course of her long experience of missionary life she even
came into contact with someone who would one day become a harsh dictator: Aristide.
“Many years ago, when he was a young boy, Jean Bertrande Aristide came to me to
ask for help for his sister. At that time I was trying to help young Haitian girls
by trying to find work for them. I would find them good jobs with proper contracts,
often as domestic workers, and he asked me to help his sister. He came from a
very poor family and I gave him money. Thinking back on what then happened many
years later, it makes me shiver.”
Continuing her story, Sister Anne recounts, “Here in Haiti everyone does what
they please, putting the whole country in danger and those who pay the consequences
are the women and children.” She doesn’t hold back in criticising either the government
or the church: “Governments have acted irresponsibly; in this country I’ve seen
it all. No-one ever listens to you; politics has never really existed; everything
is left to chance. In the time I’ve been here I’ve seen the population multiply.
Yet there is a state of moral decay like I haven’t seen in 50 years; and when
the church doesn’t behave as it should, I say so.
A few years ago I would have been delighted if a helicopter had arrived and taken
me away from here because it seemed impossible to me that parishioners could arrive
at mass armed with pistols and machine-guns. They were prepared to do anything
in order to see Aristide win. To me this was unacceptable and I found myself unable
to celebrate those masses.”
“The poor were dying”, Sister Anne continues, “girls were being raped and, despite
all this, even in private, people pronounced their support for the Chimeras (editors
note: the armed gangs which Aristide employed to eliminate his adversaries) I
heard on the radio what he was telling young people during his electoral campaign
many years ago at Cap Haitien. I guarantee I heard unspeakable things; I cried
a lot. He incited the young to take revenge, to revolt with whatever they could
find: machetes, stones, weapons, saying <<Or we take power or else there
will be revolution!>>. In my heart I knew that a Salesian could not say certain
things. In my opinion, he exploited the religious environment to study, eat,
to become a priest, knowing full well that he would ultimately have done whatever
he wanted with these poor people. It should never have reached this situation”.
“I knew Haitians as good, friendly, happy, calm and welcoming people. Now they
are indifferent to everything. Perhaps it is true to say that they are really
still a bit too primitive. And perhaps precisely because of this that the population
has been excluded, forgotten. No schools, no stable governments, nothing at all.
Great social and economic inequality remains, with whites dominating blacks. This
has resulted in an angry reawakening of the population. We have all seen what
has happened in recent months. Someone once said – I can’t quite remember who:
“you have to worry when the poor start serving themselves” It takes very little to ignite an oppressed people. You need to move forward
gently. Being aware of the situation is one thing, but knowing how to help others
understand it and react appropriately is another. That is what Aristide did not
know how to do.”
Sister Anne tells how her vocation to become a missionary began when she took
her first communion, “I was seven years old,” she says, “then aged twenty I officially
entered religious service. At that time it was an official gesture. A very important
act.” As she talks her eyes light up. The highly spiritual experience that she
has lived represents something extremely important for her. “I have told my story
only a few times in my life. At the age of 14 I was specifically told my vocation
and, for me, this was a very important moment. It was like a bolt of lightening.
I was doing the washing-up; my parents were sitting talking in another room. All
of a sudden I head God’s voice. He wanted me to become a nun. I tried to distract
myself, think of something else, perhaps because I was not yet mature enough to
answer “yes” or “no”. However the feeling was so intense that I had to stop washing-up.
I had a strange feeling inside me, almost a feeling of vertigo, so that I had
to stop what I was doing and lean against the wall and the feeling didn’t go away
until out-loud I said “yes”. The whole thing lasted about ten minutes. From that
moment onwards I have never changed my mind.”
The spiritual sureness that accompanies Sister Anne as she speaks does not diminish
for a moment, but she does appear emotionally moved for a moment when she speaks
of the death of her parents. For a few moments she becomes completely human again,
her voice taking on a calmer, wistful tone. “They died happy. For us missionaries,
the knowledge that our parents died without trying to track us down and in complete
peace, is a true liberation, an act of grace. When my mother died I was here in
Haiti and I had the sensation that I could feel everything. I even believe that
I saw her die. I saw her lying next to me in my bed. I was very sad that day.
Something was not right. All the sisters realised that something was wrong but
I did not understand what was happening. I was sitting at my desk and feeling
sad. I felt that my mother was dying at precisely the moment that she was in fact
dying, but I only realised this afterwards when they told me.”
Sister Anne will continue her work in Haiti as long as “the Lord wills it”, declaring
frankly that - filled with joy and with no regrets - a missionary stays where
they are sent until the very end.