No one stays out late anymore. By 10:30 p.m., even on Fridays, the streets of Port-au-Prince are empty. That is when the shooting begins. In the fancy neighborhoods on the hill and in the slums down by the water, armed men, often in uniform, sometimes in civilian clothes, break into houses, beat the residents, ransack the premises. They steal whatever suits them. No one really knows who they are, what they are looking for. But almost every morning, someone finds a fresh body lying on the street, a bullet through the head. The violence is making everyone wary of men in...
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