Haitian schools shelter displaced as education endures

Anténor Firmin school in Hinche is now a shelter for people displaced by violence.

Gang violence in Haiti has displaced hundreds of thousands, forcing many to seek shelter in former schools—places where belief in the power of education remains strong.

The classrooms at Anténor Firmin School in Hinche, central Haiti, are no longer studiously quiet. Once a place of learning, they now echo with the sounds of crying babies, clanking water containers, and murmured conversations throughout the night.

Over 700 people displaced by violence are crammed into the crumbling compound, sleeping on floors where children once solved math problems.

Among them is Edens Désir, a former teacher who still believes education is the key to a more peaceful and prosperous future for this beleaguered Caribbean nation.

A trained accountant and former secondary-school teacher, his life was upended by the violent clashes that erupted in March 2025 in Saut-d’Eau and Mirebalais, two small towns south of Hinche. Like 6,000 others, he fled massacres, rape, arson, and looting.

“Everything I built, little by little, was destroyed,” he said. “I walked away with nothing.”

Warring gangs have long controlled most of the capital, Port-au-Prince, about 48 km (30 miles) away. Only recently has their influence spread to more rural areas in the Centre department, including Hinche and Saut-d’Eau.

Désir found refuge in the school where he once studied—a place now stripped of its purpose. Desks have become beds. Classrooms have turned into shelters. Families lie packed into rooms never meant to house them.

Even in these crowded rooms, he found a way to start over—not for himself, but for the children. Armed with a whiteboard, a marker, and quiet determination, he brings a sense of purpose to young lives thrown into chaos.

“Ever since I was a kid, I loved teaching,” he said. “It’s what matters most to me. I’d rather be in front of a class than sitting around doing nothing. For these kids, school is the only real chance they’ve got.”
Living in Limbo

Once on the verge of expanding a small business, Désir now lives in limbo. “That plan is gone. Violence made sure of it. My only option now is to leave and try to start over somewhere else. But as long as I’m here, I will keep sharing what I know.”

These days, he takes life one day at a time. “I can’t make plans anymore,” he said. “Each day, I just figure things out as they come. Each night, I wonder if there will be food tomorrow.”

Clean water is scarce. Long queues stretch at distribution points, where women and children wait patiently with heavy containers.

Hygiene conditions are dire. With few latrines and showers, hundreds are left without privacy or sanitation. Health risks are rising, especially for the most vulnerable.

Food is equally uncertain. “There are nights I go to sleep without eating,” he said. “But I keep teaching because the kids are here.”

Delivering aid is no easy task. The main road between Port-au-Prince and Hinche remains blocked by insecurity, cutting off supply routes and isolating communities.

Despite the obstacles, the UN’s International Organization for Migration (IOM) has reached over 800 families across 17 displacement sites, distributing emergency supplies like shelter kits, blankets, kitchen sets, and jerrycans.

IOM teams are working with families, host communities, and local authorities to assess needs and provide support. Site committees and civil protection teams are being trained to better manage shelters. The most fragile sites are being relocated to safer areas, and mental health support is being offered.
Protecting the Vulnerable

These efforts aim to protect the most vulnerable, especially children, from a crisis they did not choose but must now navigate.

Désir believes knowledge is the best defense against dehumanization. When violence tears apart lives, forces displacement, and cuts off access to education, teaching becomes an act of resistance.

Even on the hardest days, he shows up for the children who believe in him.

“If we want things to change, we need people who grow into better citizens,” he said. “I don’t know if what I’m doing is enough to make that happen, but it gives me purpose. It breaks my heart to know I’ll have to leave them behind and look for a better future.”