Perched on the rooftop of a crumbling government building, the harsh Haitian sun beats down on a sea of tents. Among them, Roseline sits quietly inside her own makeshift home, her smile breaking through the chaos around her. She fled Solino, a neighborhood in Port-au-Prince that was once bustling with life. Now, it is controlled by armed gangs, where violence echoes in the streets and death is constant. Like tens of thousands of others, she left everything behind. 

“We had to leave quickly. Our home, my clothes… everything. I didn’t even have time to think. We just ran.” 

Now, she and her husband live on a roof, alongside hundreds of others. Most are families who, like her, fled their neighborhoods in search of safety. Her husband spends his days doing informal jobs, trying to earn enough money to get them through another day, another week. Having a perspective, a future is difficult. She stays in the displacement site, navigating the uncertainty of each day while holding tightly to her dreams. 

“It’s not easy here. But we’re alive, and we have each other.” 

When the conversation turns to the future, her expression softens, and for a moment, the hardship seems to fade. “We want children. Two, a boy and a girl, I think. But not yet. We need a real home first.” 

Haiti is teetering on the edge of a humanitarian catastrophe. Over 41,000 people have been displaced in Port-au-Prince in under ten days. Across the country, more than 700,000 people have been uprooted from their homes. Entire neighborhoods have been emptied as gangs seize control, displacing families multiple times in their search for safety. 

In the displacement site, conditions are bleak. Families live in overcrowded tents or out in the open, with limited access to clean water, food, and sanitation. Gender-based violence has surged, and children face malnutrition and the risk of disease. The rooftop where Roseline lives is just one of many temporary shelters quickly self-set up to house those escaping violence. 

For families like hers, the trauma is compounded by the loss of everything familiar. “We didn’t want to leave, but we had no choice. What else could we do?” 

Despite the overwhelming challenges, there is hope. Organizations like IOM work every day to provide life-saving assistance. In Port-au-Prince, IOM teams have delivered clean water, hygiene kits, and medical aid. Psychosocial support is available for those coping with trauma, and transportation subsidies are helping displaced families move to safer areas. 

Her voice brightens when she talks about the assistance humanitarian actors provide to the most vulnerable. “Teams have come to assess what we need; we talked to them just a few days after arriving. And I know they’ll come back. I’m hopeful.” 

She dreams of more than survival. She dreams of building a family, of raising children in a safe home, of planting flowers again. Her hope is a quiet rebellion against the despair that surrounds her—a belief that, one day, things will get better. 

Her story is far from unique. It reflects the resilience of thousands of Haitians displaced by violence and conflict. But resilience alone cannot sustain them. The international community must act decisively, providing the funding and resources needed to address Haiti’s deepening crisis. 

For Roseline, desires are simple:

We just want to live without fear. To have a home, to start our family.

And like so many others, she waits—not just for help, but for a chance to reclaim her life. 

Names have been altered. All individuals in the photos were informed of their purpose and gave their consent. 

Photos: IOM/Antoine Lemonnier