Hundreds of mourners gathered in the heart of Cité Soleil, one of Port-au-Prince’s most troubled neighborhoods, on October 4, 2025, to grieve the loss of eight civilians killed in a drone strike just weeks earlier. The collective funeral, held in a small park surrounded by crumbling buildings and makeshift homes, became a somber testament to the mounting toll of violence in Haiti’s capital—a city now largely controlled by powerful gangs.
The September 20 drone attack, which targeted a suspected gang leader, left nine people dead and wounded 17 others, according to reports from Doctors Without Borders. The organization, which provided emergency care to the victims, confirmed that the casualties included women and four children. The explosions tore through the densely packed shantytown, leaving families shattered and a community traumatized.
“I didn’t have the strength to look at the coffin of my daughter,” said Claudia Bobrun, 30, her voice trembling as she remembered her eight-year-old, Samira Nelson. Samira, described by her mother as a joyful child, died while playing with friends—an innocent victim of the relentless violence that now defines daily life for many in Cité Soleil. As reported by The Associated Press and confirmed by The Haitian Times, the pain of loss was compounded by the shock of the attack’s suddenness and brutality.
Jislene Statune, 50, faced a grief few could fathom. She lost two grandchildren and her eldest daughter, the family’s primary breadwinner. Her daughter, aged 32, supported her relatives by selling used clothes and was killed in front of her home. “She was the head of the family,” Statune explained, her words echoing the despair felt by so many in the community. The funeral, funded in part by local leaders, underscored how residents must rely on each other for support in the absence of functioning state institutions.
The source of the drone remains a matter of controversy and fear. While the intended target was a suspected gang leader, residents and activists have accused the police of carrying out the strike—an allegation that has yet to be fully investigated. The uncertainty has only deepened the community’s sense of vulnerability. During the funeral, a bird flew overhead, prompting a panic as traumatized attendees mistook it for another drone. People scattered in all directions, a stark reminder of the psychological scars left by the violence.
“We’re all living in fear,” said one local activist, who asked not to be named for safety reasons. “No one knows when the next attack will come, or who will be caught in the crossfire.” The attack took place in Cité Soleil, a sprawling commune under the effective control of Viv Ansanm, a gang coalition designated by the United States as a foreign terrorist organization. Since the assassination of President Jovenal Moïse in 2021, gangs have tightened their grip on Port-au-Prince, now controlling an estimated 90% of the city. Their reach extends well beyond the capital, with looting, kidnapping, sexual assaults, and rape spreading into rural areas.
The humanitarian consequences have been staggering. More than 1.3 million Haitians have been displaced by gang violence in recent years, according to international agencies. Makeshift camps have sprung up across the country, and hunger and poverty have only deepened. “The situation is desperate,” one aid worker told The Haitian Times. “People have lost their homes, their livelihoods, and in many cases, their families.”
Despite the scale of the crisis, many Haitians feel abandoned by their government and the international community. Haiti has not had a sitting president since Moïse’s assassination, and efforts to restore order have faltered in the face of relentless gang expansion. The promise of outside help has, until now, done little to stem the tide of violence or address the root causes of the crisis.
That may be about to change. On October 7, 2025, the United Nations Security Council voted to authorize a new, 5,550-member international Gang Suppression Force with expanded powers to arrest suspected gang members. The resolution, co-sponsored by the United States and Panama, will transform the Kenya-led multinational force already present in Haiti into a more robust operation—one with a clear mandate to confront the gangs head-on.
The decision marks a significant escalation in international involvement. Previous missions have been criticized for lacking the authority or resources to make a real difference. The new force, dubbed the “Gang Suppression Force,” will have the power to arrest suspects—a crucial capability its predecessor lacked. The hope, according to U.N. officials, is that the expanded mission will finally begin to roll back the gangs’ dominance and restore some measure of safety to ordinary Haitians.
But skepticism remains high on the streets of Port-au-Prince. Many residents are wary of foreign intervention, citing a long history of failed missions and broken promises. “We’ve heard this before,” said a local shopkeeper, shaking his head. “Every time they say help is coming, nothing changes. The gangs are still here, and we’re still suffering.”
Others, however, see the new force as a last, best hope. With the government paralyzed and the police outgunned, some believe only a large, well-equipped international presence can restore order. “We need help,” said a mother whose son was wounded in the drone attack. “We can’t do this alone.”
As the international community prepares to deploy the Gang Suppression Force, the families of Cité Soleil continue to mourn. The collective funeral on October 4 was not just a moment of grief, but a rallying cry for justice and change. Community leaders, struggling to meet even the most basic needs, have stepped in where the state has failed—organizing funerals, providing food, and offering comfort to the bereaved.
The trauma of the drone strike lingers. For children like Samira Nelson, whose lives were cut short, and for mothers like Claudia Bobrun and Jislene Statune, who must carry on in the face of unimaginable loss, the path forward remains uncertain. Yet, amid the sorrow, there is also resilience. “We have to keep going,” said Statune softly, her eyes fixed on the horizon. “For the ones we’ve lost, and for those who are still here.”
With the world’s attention now focused on Haiti’s crisis, the coming months will be critical. The success or failure of the new Gang Suppression Force may well determine whether communities like Cité Soleil can hope for a future free from fear—or whether the cycle of violence will continue, unchecked and unchallenged.
