(Port-au-Prince) The Saint-Martin district, located in the heart of Port-au-Prince, has seen better days.
At the corner of Rue Sans Souci, two schools ravaged by fire lie under the scorching sun. The street of Tokyo is nothing more than a sad alignment of buildings riddled with bullets. Along rue Delmas 4, rare emaciated silhouettes appear furtively behind the piles of rubble. A little laundry is drying at the back of a building ravaged by a rocket launcher: the vast majority of the population fled the scene, but a few residents remained living among the ruins. A deadly silence reigns throughout.
PHOTO THÉOPHILE SIMON, SPECIAL COLLABORATION
The ruins of a school located on the edge of neighborhoods controlled by the G9 and Gpep gangs, in the heart of Port-au-Prince
Once one of the busiest areas of the Haitian capital, Saint-Martin has turned into a war zone.
A procession of a dozen young men in rubber sandals wanders through this apocalyptic landscape. Everyone has a pistol on their belt. At their head, a paunchy forty-year-old struts noisily. “This whole area belongs to me. The police haven’t come here for years! », he boasts, greeting rare onlookers with frightened looks. His name: Jimmy Chérizier.
PHOTO THÉOPHILE SIMON, SPECIAL COLLABORATION
A resident of the Saint-Martin district, controlled by the G9
Accused of several massacres, under UN sanctions, this former police officer converted into a gang leader reigns over the “G9”, a coalition of nine armed groups sharing an immense territory in the center of Port-au-Prince. Like them, around a hundred gangs took advantage of the political vacuum left by the assassination of President Jovenel Moïse in 2021 to storm the Haitian capital. Some 80% of the city’s surface area would now be under their control. Jimmy Chérizier’s G9 is one of the most powerful: last fall, its members managed to paralyze the country by blocking the oil terminals of Port-au-Prince for two months.
PHOTO THÉOPHILE SIMON, SPECIAL COLLABORATION
Members of the G9 and Gpep gangs, in Port-au-Prince, August 14
Social poverty
“Our country is sinking into anarchy and killings are increasing. So my friends and I took up arms to defend the population, explains Jimmy Chérizier, inspecting two American-made assault rifles handed out by one of his deputies.
PHOTO THÉOPHILE SIMON, SPECIAL COLLABORATION
Gang leader Jimmy Chérizier in front of bags of rice that he distributes to the population
Groups like mine exist for one reason: to compensate for the failure of the state to meet the needs of the population. Why do young people prefer to work for me rather than doing a less dangerous job? Because they didn’t go to school, they have no future and the country is a field of ruins. I offer them opportunities.
Jimmy Chérizier, leader of the G9 gang
Arriving in front of the decrepit building serving as his headquarters, the gang leader rushes into a basement with a gloomy atmosphere. Around thirty women wait there in front of mounds of bags of rice. A member of the gang, machine gun slung over his shoulder, calls them one by one to come and help themselves.
PHOTO THÉOPHILE SIMON, SPECIAL COLLABORATION
A resident of a neighborhood controlled by the G9 gang collects a bag of rice from Jimmy Chérizier’s men.
“I take care of my community and, in return, the community takes care of me,” Jimmy Chérizier said with a chuckle once he got back into the open air. I build schools, I feed people, I help cover their medical costs. In short, I carry out the missions that the State has renounced. »