"We have a lot of work to do."

Scene: Physically, I’m in my new apartment in Delhi but my conscience is stuck in Babiole, Port-au-Prince. Sorry for the delay and length, sans photos.

So says Danielle Magliore, a pillar of Haiti’s feminist movement. Four months after the earthquake, she was still living in a tent next to her office when I visited with with her.

Three leaders of the movement were less lucky, losing their lives but not their legacies:

• Myriam Merlet, founder of Haiti’s national coalition on women’s advocacy issues (KONAP) and of the women’s rights organization, Enfofam, whose office and only archive of the women's movement in Haiti was destroyed in the quake.
• Magalie Marcelin, founder of KayFamn or Women’s House, the first home for battered women in Haiti.
• Anne-Marie Coriolan, founder of another major advocacy group, SOFA, which launched its first campaign against gender-based violence in 1987.

Some quick context
Put simply, women have always been the backbone of Haiti's society and economy, but are far from empowered. Their political involvement is minimal and constrained. For example, over half of the population, Haitian women typically hold only 5-10% of seats in Parliament, but face significant hurdles in exercising their power and keeping it.

Records of the fight for gender equity in Haiti date back to the mid-1800s. Most of the organizations above emerged after the fall of dictator “Baby Doc” Duvalier in 1986, when many Haitian activists returned from exile. These women led the broader fight for human rights and democracy while championing a feminist agenda. After years of agitating and negotiations, the government formed the Ministry of Women’s Affairs and Rights in 1994; chronically underfunded and politically constrained, it has struggled to achieve its mandate. The movement, though, celebrated a procedural win in 2005 when Parliament finally passed legislation criminalizing rape. Like many other laws in Haiti, it's weakly enforced.

Fast forward to January 12th
The earthquake destroyed the Ministry of Women’s Affairs, which Danielle described as “our baby.” The Minister’s international travel schedule saved her life, but Myriam (the Chief of Cabinet), Myra Narcisse, the Director General, and several staff died in the rubble. In the months since, volunteers from Danielle’s organization visit one IDP camp after another to document reports of violence against women and girls. Sitting in Danielle's office, I held hundreds of forms in my hands, each page representing one woman's abuse and hope for retribution.

So now what?
In addition to what we must learn from the past, I wanted to know what next. Of the Haitian activists and organizations left standing, what are their priorities in rebuilding their movement and their country? What challenges do they face and what do they need to overcome them?

Others were apparently asking different questions of different people.

After the earthquake, hundreds of mostly foreign “experts” holed up for weeks in one of the few remaining hotels in Port-au-Prince to conduct a “Post Disaster Needs Assessment” and to develop an “Action Plan” for the reconstruction and development of Haiti. This process and its outcomes were flawed in several respects, not least of which was a woeful neglect of gender.

At the Action Plan’s unveiling during a donor conference at the UN in March, a group of international and local NGOs launched a shadow report to propose a more comprehensive approach to gender. Nearly simultaneously, over 100 Haitian organizations from across the country started a new coalition, the Femmes Citoyennes Haïti Solidaire or Women's Citizens Haiti United. Their eight coordinating bodies each meet weekly, no easy task in Port-au-Prince. One snippet of their comprehensive longer-term vision: the first-ever university-level women’s studies program.

Danielle is right. There is a lot of work to do. To which I reply with the Haitian proverb: men anpil, chay pa lou. Many hands lighten the load.