26/08/2026
In January 2010, I went to Haiti to cover the earthquake. I had prepared myself to document a natural catastrophe: within seconds, a magnitude 7.0 earthquake destroyed much of Port-au-Prince and killed an estimated 220,000 people.
When I arrived, I encountered a tragedy that had begun centuries earlier.
The earthquake shook every social class, yet the collapsing walls, failed hospitals and neighborhoods turned into burial grounds belonged overwhelmingly to the poor. The tremor lasted only seconds. The conditions that multiplied the deaths had been built over generations.
People continued to die beneath the rubble, in improvised hospitals, in camps without water and along streets crowded with the injured. Those who survived remained trapped within the same material conditions that had made the earthquake so lethal: precarious housing, absent infrastructure, institutional abandonment, hunger and social exclusion.
Haiti emerged from the only successful revolution of enslaved people to defeat a colonial power and establish an independent state. In 1804, it became the world’s first Black republic. For that victory, Haiti was isolated, threatened and forced by France in 1825 to compensate former slaveholders. The indemnity, along with the loans taken out to pay it, drained the country for generations.
My photographs expose the most brutal material consequences of that history. The earthquake appears through the bodies, the amputations, the crushed buildings and the families searching for their dead. The scale of the destruction also reveals who had been condemned to live in fragile homes, without public protection and without any means of escape.
The earth shook for a few seconds. History decided how many would die.