Haitians Return to Rubble as Gangs Welcome Homecomings and Police Warn of Danger

Hundreds of displaced residents of Port-au-Prince have begun returning to neighborhoods that were razed during a wave of gang attacks last year, even as police and humanitarian officials warn the areas remain unsafe.

Communities including Solino, Nazon and Delmas 30 were emptied in November after armed gangs swept through the capital, burning homes and forcing thousands into crowded, makeshift shelters. In recent weeks, those same gangs have encouraged people to go back, prompting many to risk returning to see what remains of their possessions and properties.

"I was hoping to have a place to come back to," said 13-year-old Erica Lafleur as she and her 10-year-old sister, Naika, stared at a pile of rubble where their home once stood. Many returnees describe finding only ash and shattered belongings: books, clothes, photo albums and furniture turned to cinders.

Some residents said they were acting out of desperation. Ronald Amboise, a 42-year-old tile setter who moved to Solino after Haiti’s 2010 earthquake, said he and his partner and their two children have been living under a plastic tarp in a shelter where they are soaked when it rains and have trouble feeding the family. "Police have a radio announcement telling people not to return. Gangs are saying it’s safe to return. I don’t know which one to trust yet," he said.

Others returned to salvage what little they could. Samuel Alexis, 40, who lost his livelihood but not his family, asked the government for help as he considered going home. "There is nothing left to save," he said, adding that gunfire still erupted nearby as he inspected the neighborhood.

The fall of Solino and surrounding neighborhoods was a symbolic and strategic victory for Viv Ansanm, a coalition of gangs led by Jimmy Chérizier and designated by the U.S. as a foreign terrorist organization. Control of those areas brought gangs closer to government offices, including the prime minister’s and the transitional presidential council’s offices, analysts said.

Diego Da Rin of the International Crisis Group said it was unclear why Viv Ansanm abruptly withdrew from some neighborhoods, but he offered possible explanations: the gangs may have needed fighters and weapons elsewhere, or they could be attempting to forge alliances with vigilante groups or build popular credibility by presenting their conflict as not directed at civilians. He also noted that the arrival of explosive drones and other armed forces likely disrupted some gang plans.

The humanitarian toll has been severe. Gang violence has displaced roughly 1.3 million people across Haiti, many of whom live in dilapidated shelters. Tom Fletcher, the U.N. under-secretary-general for humanitarian affairs and emergency relief coordinator, described camps he visited as desperate and overcrowded. "Almost everyone said to me, ‘We want to go home, we want to rebuild our lives, but we’re really, really terrified,’" Fletcher said, adding that women and girls have been disproportionately affected.

Verified incidents show sharp increases in abuses against children and other civilians. Last year the number of grave violations against children rose by 500% compared with 2023, and recruitment of children by armed groups increased 700% in the first quarter of this year. Sexual violence against children rose 1,000% last year, and verified killings and executions of children increased 54% in the first quarter of this year, Fletcher said.

Returnees described lives overturned. Gerald Jean, once the owner of a funeral home, a hardware store, a botanica and eight homes in Solino, now lives homeless and jobless after gangs set fire to his buildings. He said he had one pair of pants and sandals when he fled and spent a recent day buying a 50-cent bag of corn chips for his sole meal. Marie-Marthe Vernet, 68, who was shot in the back while fleeing last year, said she would not return to live in Solino because she fears forced recruitment of young men and sexual violence against girls.

For many, returning is a gamble between the insecurity of camps and the risks of going back. Stephanie Saint-Fleure, a 39-year-old mother, said she planned to move back because conditions in the camps were unbearable. "It’s been months and months of humiliation. Can you imagine having three kids staying in a camp that smells, and you can’t sleep at night because you’re awake all the time protecting your kids from evil?" she asked.

Haiti’s security vacuum has nourished an array of armed groups and local vigilantes that previously resisted gang control. Solino was home to a vigilante group that for years fended off gang advances until its leader was killed and the gangs overran the neighborhood. The shifting dynamics between gangs, vigilantes and any residual state forces continue to shape the prospects for safe, sustained returns.

Authorities have urged caution. Police broadcasts have warned residents that the areas are not secure and that remaining weapons, unexploded ordnance or returning gunmen pose ongoing risks. Humanitarian agencies have also cautioned that basic services — clean water, sanitation, health care and roads — remain inadequate in many neighborhoods, complicating efforts to resettle families and rebuild livelihoods.

As Port-au-Prince grapples with the aftermath of the raids and the broader uptick in gang activity, analysts say the unstable security situation, the scale of destruction and the limited capacity of state and international actors will make recovery slow and uncertain. For now, Haitians who return face the immediate task of digging through ash to recover memories and material possessions, even as the larger political and security questions that drove the displacement remain unresolved.