Port-au-Prince and its sweet night,

,

poetess on the run

the effect of a pill on her

contraception

I write so that people who are not in the country or who do not know Haiti understand what is happening there,

.

Its important to me.

Because there is a total silence from the media around

.

For two weeks, all the streets have been blocked, for two weeks, people have been blocked in their homes.

I write so that people understand and talk to each other in this country.

I don't know if this will help us with anything, but we are very isolated.

We die alone!

And I thought to myself that this could perhaps help a little to open a window on the island.

How to stop the fall

?

".

a short name to abbreviate chaos

For me, the night means this absence of light and hope.

We don't know what will happen.

We do not see the light.

We don't see the change.

It's very metaphorical, the sweet night, it's the sweet descent into hell for all Haitians, for quite some time, with all these popular mobilizations, the violence exerted by the State on the population.

There really is a big tightrope there.

In my opinion, there will be a great wave of migration.

This long night is the night of uncertainties.

We don't know what we're going to do.

draped in invincible darkness

tell the truth about the city and about us

Streets are political spaces,

The streets explain how the city works, the inhabitants, and explain who are the people who frequent these streets.

Putting street names was a way for me to come back to this almost uninhabitable city, given the security and political situation.

And also to return to the memories of those lovers who frequented these streets when they were in love.

Myself, as an author, I recall my memories.

It's also a gesture of love to say that it wasn't always like this.

Port-au-Prince has never been a completely safe city.

But, there was a bit of light…and laughter.

I started taking theater workshops in high school.

Then, after my studies, I wanted to make it my job.

So I went to the Petit Conservatoire, the school of the spoken word, founded by Daniel Marcellin, a school that no longer exists.

Daniel Marcellin transmitted everything to me.

All.

The first thing was: since it's a difficult job in a difficult country, a country that doesn't recognize this job, you had to have a lot of fun doing it.

And he taught us to have a lot of fun doing it.

For us, this school was also an enforcer.

Most of the young people who came to the Petit Conservatoire came from disadvantaged neighborhoods – except for me, I was more or less privileged.

For us, the Petit Conservatoire was the place where we could rebuild ourselves, a place where we learned to love ourselves,

It reflects an extremely complicated situation in my country insofar as the drama school that I run is the only theater school.

It's not just for the fun of doing a school.

It took me so long, I could have written fifteen plays.

As a citizen, I told myself that I have a responsibility towards my community.

As was the case for me with the Petit Conservatoire, it's a school where young people don't even necessarily come to do their job, but to breathe a little.

»

Honestly, in Haiti, I do humor.

The plays are for a French-speaking audience.

Humor is for me.

And that makes people react a lot more.

People want to laugh.

My plays mainly concern theatergoers in Haiti.

We are in our contemporaneity.

We are in our time.

We are in the process of transcribing word for word, with the help of poems and plays, the crisis that surrounds us.

Whereas with the older generation, there was much more of a dreamlike quality, something that moved you away from reality, even if there are pieces that bonded us well in reality, like

of Frankétienne, but it was also done with such gentleness.

We, the new generation, are unable to remove all this heaviness and darkness in our works, perhaps because we suffer too much.

Our theater is very hard, perhaps, because we don't want it to be otherwise and we feel exactly what is going on.

Freda

In my head, I saw this room and the characters literally like photos.

It was like cinematic portraits.

I wanted to place them in this room and make them move a bit.

Because, after a while, it had to move inside the text, but also with the characters in my head to be able to move forward in the writing.

I saw them change position and with each sequence, I saw a very particular posture, like a photo.

I think

is a piece that tends towards the cinema.

Honestly, I don't want to direct this play, but adapt it to the cinema.

I really wanted to direct this film.

An almost documentary film.

A romance movie.

A film about Haiti.

A film which for me will present this country in pain and sweetness.

barricaded horizon

Port-au-Prince and its sweet night

Yes, totally.

I want us to rebuild this city, to take this country in hand.

And that we can hang out late at night, make noise, have a drink, dream, create… But I don't know if that will happen again in the near future, because it looks very dark.

I want to give Haitians hope that another city and another life are possible.

That the life you dream of is possible.