January 12, 2011
When the earth opened up under Haiti on January 12, 2011, it claimed more than lives, homes and livelihoods. It swallowed a nation's hope.
The 7.0 magnitude earthquake, with its epicenter just west of Port-au-Prince, left 316,000 dead, with an almost equal number injured – and one million homeless.
In all, some 3 million people were affected by the earthquake and its barrage of aftershocks.
That day, the earth would not stand still. On Wednesday, as Haiti marked the disaster's first anniversary, it was clear that the past still rattles the island of 10 million.
Within hours of the quake, United Nations peacekeepers were on the ground, tasked with stabilizing the tottering nation. In turn, they found themselves the focal point for its fury.
Last October, Haiti recorded its first cholera case – only to watch the disease sweep through much of the country, killing more than 1,000 people to date.
Haitians blamed the outbreak on UN's 12,000-strong contingent – a belief only strengthened by a report from the U.S. Center for Disease Control. The study suggested Haiti's particular strain of the disease hailed from South Asia.
Not a good time to be one of the many Nepalese-born peacekeepers stationed in Haiti.
Seemingly poisoned by the cure, Haitians turned on the UN force, rioting in the streets. Despite protests from Edmond Mulet, head of the UN mission in Haiti that all Nepalese peacekeepers passed medical exams prior to landing in the country, the rage only spiraled.
"It's really unfair to accuse the U.N. for bringing cholera into Haiti," Mulet told reporters. "We don't want to stigmatize any nation or any people."
While the riots eventually subsided, the damage had already been done. During the chaos, aid flights were cancelled, reconstruction projects delayed and vital food stores looted or burnt.
The gaping wound that was the earthquake only festered. Late last year, the country bid to hold national elections also came crashing down.
With no clear winners emerging from the contest, and charges of tampering from all sides, Haitians fell into what they've been doing a lot of lately – rioting.
Last October, Haiti recorded its first cholera case – only to watch the disease sweep through much of the country, killing more than 1,000 people to date.
Haitians blamed the outbreak on UN's 12,000-strong contingent – a belief only strengthened by a report from the U.S. Center for Disease Control. The study suggested Haiti's particular strain of the disease hailed from South Asia.
Not a good time to be one of the many Nepalese-born peacekeepers stationed in Haiti.
Seemingly poisoned by the cure, Haitians turned on the UN force, rioting in the streets. Despite protests from Edmond Mulet, head of the UN mission in Haiti that all Nepalese peacekeepers passed medical exams prior to landing in the country, the rage only spiraled.
"It's really unfair to accuse the U.N. for bringing cholera into Haiti," Mulet told reporters. "We don't want to stigmatize any nation or any people."
While the riots eventually subsided, the damage had already been done. During the chaos, aid flights were cancelled, reconstruction projects delayed and vital food stores looted or burnt.
The gaping wound that was the earthquake only festered. Late last year, the country bid to hold national elections also came crashing down.
With no clear winners emerging from the contest, and charges of tampering from all sides, Haitians fell into what they've been doing a lot of lately – rioting.