By Pierre-Richard Luxama, Dánica Coto And Evens Sanon, Associated Press
Jean-Jacques Asperges once relished returning home after a long day working at a radio station in one of the world’s most dangerous places for journalists.
He had a roof and four walls for protection, but gang violence forced him and his family to flee their home twice.
Now, Asperges, 58, his wife and their two children are forced to sleep on the floor of a soiled and overcrowded makeshift shelter with thousands of other Haitians also left homeless by gang violence.
“Bullets fall here all the time,” he said.
Having lost all his work equipment, Asperges relies solely on his phone, but he remains undeterred like dozens of other journalists in Haiti who are under attack like never before. They are dodging bullets, defying censorship and setting personal struggles aside as they document the downfall of Haiti’s capital and the surge in violence blamed on powerful gangs that control 85% of Port-au-Prince.
Heavily armed gangs attacked at least three TV and radio stations in March. Two of the buildings were already abandoned because of previous violence, but gunmen stole equipment that had been left behind.
“It’s a message: You don’t operate without our permission, and you don’t operate at all in our turf,” said David C. Adams, an expert on press freedom issues in Haiti.
Gangs sent an even deadlier message on Christmas Eve, when they opened fire on journalists covering the failed reopening of Haiti’s largest public hospital, saying they had not authorized its reopening.
Two journalists were killed and at least seven others were injured, including Asperges, who was shot in the stomach. It was the worst attack on reporters in Haiti in recent history.
“Everyone is threatened. Everyone is under pressure,” said Max Chauvet, director of operations at Le Nouvelliste, Haiti’s oldest independent newspaper.
‘You feel in danger doing your job’
Donning a bulletproof vest emblazoned with “PRESS” on it is now a dangerous move in Haiti. What used to serve as a symbolic and physical shield has become a target.
At least 10 journalists covering a major March protest were attacked, including Jephte Bazil, a videographer who runs his own media company, Machann Zen Haïti.
He was threading his way through a protest in the Canapé-Vert neighborhood of Port-au-Prince when three men dressed in black and with their faces covered called him over.
“What the hell are you doing around here?” Bazil recalled them asking.
They searched his bag, took away his cellphone and demanded multiple forms of ID. Bazil handed over only his passport, keeping his ID card hidden because it stated he was from Martissant, a community that gangs seized several years ago. He was too scared to show it and possibly be accused of being a gang member or a sympathizer.
“I believe I could have been killed,” Bazil said.
After an interrogation that lasted at least half an hour, Bazil said the men released him. As he walked away, one followed him with a machete to see if he was headed where he said he was going.
Once he reached his destination, Bazil said the man told him: “If you had made any other turn, I would have…cut your head off.”
It was not the first time Bazil feared for his life. He was injured in December’s hospital attack and, in February, while covering a confrontation between police and gangs, his motorcycle was shot but he was spared.
“Journalists are targets now, whether police or gangs,” he said.
Haitians increasingly distrust the media, accusing local journalists of working for gangs. Meanwhile, gang members have taken to social media to threaten journalists. One gang leader said he would kidnap radio reporters and ensure they won’t ever talk into a microphone again, while another threatened a talk show host based outside of Haiti, saying that if he ever set foot in the country, it would be the last time he would do so.
As a result, Haiti’s Online Media Collective has advised that journalists not cover incidents involving armed groups.
“It’s not just journalists who are the victims, it’s press freedom itself,” said Obest Dimanche, the collective’s spokesperson.
But given the persistent attacks by heavily armed gangs in the capital and beyond, most journalists disregard that advice.
They travel in packs and zoom around on motorcycles through Port-au-Prince’s hilly neighborhoods, ducking in unison when shots are fired. At the end of the day, they check in on each other to ensure everyone returned safely home. Those who lost their homes to gang violence like Asperges go back to a shelter while others sleep on the floor of their media company.
“You feel in danger doing your job nowadays,” said Jean Daniel Sénat, a journalist at Le Nouvelliste and Magik9 radio station.
He lamented how journalists no longer have access to many neighborhoods in the capital because of gang violence: “If you can’t talk to the people…you won’t be able to report.”
The violence also has forced media companies to close, lay off reporters or stop printing, as was the case for Le Nouvelliste when gunmen attacked and occupied its offices last year. Since then, the newspaper has operated solely online.
Killings and impunity
On March 13, Haiti’s prime minister condemned the attack on the building that once housed Radio et Télévision Caraïbes, the country’s oldest radio station, and pledged to protect media institutions.
Located on Rue Chavannes, the station’s former headquarters were considered a “heritage monument,” said journalist Richecarde Célestin, who works for the station.
Founded in 1949, the station has reported on Haiti’s tumultuous history: its coups, dictatorships and first democratic elections.
Considered one of Haiti’s most influential radio stations, it was a blow to many to see smoke and flames rising from the building.
“Every employee has a story with the space,” said journalist Dénel Sainton, who described the former headquarters as the “soul” of Radio et Télévision Caraïbes, which has been forced to move twice because of gang violence.
Also attacked that week was radio station Mélodie FM and TV station Télé Pluriel.
“What we’re seeing now, kind of the wholesale targeting of the media, is different,” said Adams, the expert on press freedom issues in Haiti. “In the old days, individual journalists were targeted.”
According to UNESCO, at least 21 journalists were reported killed from 2000 to 2022 in Haiti, with nine killed in 2022, the deadliest year for Haitian journalism in recent history.
The New York-based Committee to Protect Journalists reported one journalist killed in 2023 and two more in 2024.
Investigative journalist Gardy Saint-Louis recently told Télégramme360, an online news site, that he planned to go into hiding. Saint-Louis was quoted as saying that he began receiving anonymous calls in September 2024, and that death threats escalated into an attack in February, when armed men opened fire on his house.
Other journalists have fled Haiti, where attacks and killings are rarely solved.
Haiti ranks first globally as the country most likely to let journalists’ murders go unpunished, according to a 2024 CPJ report. Since 2019, seven killings remain unsolved, including that of Garry Tesse, a radio host whose mutilated body appeared six days after he vanished in 2022. Shortly before his death, Tesse accused a powerful prosecutor of plotting to kill him.
