As their country erupts in chaos, two lawyers are fighting for the lives of every Haitian

For weeks, a crisis has been building in Haiti. Armed gangs have stormed prisons and attempted to seize control of vital infrastructure like the main airport and the roads to the capital. Prime Minister Ariel Henry has agreed to resign after gangs threatened a civil war if he stayed in power. In light of these recent events, it becomes glaringly evident that the state’s foundations are crumbling. In addition to the political instability, institutions like the justice system are struggling to maintain order in the face of escalating violence and lawlessness.

In the heart of Port-au-Prince, amidst the current and ongoing humanitarian crisis, two determined lawyers, Atzer Alcindor and Jean Bonald Golinsky Fatal, stand as beacons of hope.

For the past year, the Human Rights Laboratory, the social justice organization they founded, has championed the cause of justice and representation in a legal system beset by corruption and deep inequality. Their organization offers free legal advice and represents people in court who are in vulnerable situations and are unable to afford a lawyer. In 2023, this included over 20 female survivors of gender-based violence and 60 detainees subject to abusive pretrial detention, held in overpopulated penal institutions.

Now, more than ever, the ongoing work of individuals like Alcindor and Fatal holds immense significance. Their efforts not only shed light on the pressing issues currently plaguing Haiti but also underscore the urgent need to fortify and stabilize the country’s fragile institutions.

The call to justice

Fatal, a boisterous and talkative 50-year-old, comes from a family steeped in activism. His career took a decisive turn in 2008 after an unjust dismissal from a public service role over unionization efforts. This event propelled him back to school to study law. Even now, his deep engagement in union leadership continues to inform and shape his approach to advocacy.

Alcindor, a detail-obsessed and methodical 35-year-old, has dedicated much of his practice to pro bono cases with the help of judicial assistance programs. His introduction to human rights law in 2018, during an internship at the Port-au-Prince Bar Association, unveiled the grim conditions in Haitian prisons, which are severely overcrowded and poorly maintained, igniting in him a deep-seated passion for justice.

The two first met soon after Alcindor’s internship, while they were participating in several training programs with Lawyers Without Borders Canada. Both had come from environments where inequality is fought with care and compassion, they explain, and they soon decided to continue reforming the system from within to promote greater fairness, this time together. “We quickly became like brothers,” recalls Alcindor when speaking about their partnership.

Soon after they began working together, Alcindor and Fatal took on a harrowing gender-based violence case. They represented a young girl against her father who was accused of incest. The father was a policeman who worked as security for Haiti’s First Lady at the time. (In Haiti, it’s common for police officers to work as personal security for high-level individuals like judges and government officials.) The girl, who was just 16 years old, had been repeatedly raped by her father since she was 12; at one point, he’d even threatened to kill her if she shared her truth. Together, Alcindor and Fatal were able to accomplish what had seemed impossible: The assailant was found guilty of rape with aggravating circumstances.

Reflecting on this, Fatal explains, “When you are a policeman, or if you work for a big public figure, you often think of yourself as untouchable in Haiti. Our goal was to demonstrate that no one, regardless of their position, is above the law.” This case, culminating in a life sentence for the father, set a significant and previously unheard of precedent, since violence against women in Haiti, particularly when the attacker is in a position of authority, is often subject to impunity. It also further solidified the lawyers’ commitment to seeking justice for underdogs.

“It’s about people’s lives, rights and freedom,” Fatal says.

On the front lines

In their work, Alcindor and Fatal make it their mission to fight the discrimination and corruption they’re routinely confronted with in the justice system, in a way that many other lawyers don’t — either because it’s a lot of labour or because they benefit from corrupt practices themselves. Most of Alcindor and Fatal’s cases come to them either from an established women’s shelter in Port-au-Prince or from the Office de la Protection du Citoyen, a public office that serves as an ombudsman, addressing complaints against members of government agencies and monitoring human rights conditions. In addition to the legal counsel they provide to survivors of sexual violence and detainees held in poor conditions, Alcindor and Fatal’s work includes reporting and battling abuses of power.

One particularly striking recent example of their determination to tackle corruption is an instance in which they took successful legal action against a prosecutor and had him dismissed as a result, a rarity. The prosecutor, who mishandled a rape case by refusing to send it to the investigating judge for inquiry, released the accused man in front of his accuser, who was pregnant from the rape. During a preliminary questioning in his office a few moments beforehand, the prosecutor had even started asking the woman why she had dressed attractively, openly insinuating that she had invited the attention.

“Several people present were shocked by such remarks from a prosecutor,” Alcindor recalls.

“These are cases that we believe must not go unpunished,” Fatal says. “This is a prime example of the impunity, corruption and poor governance of the justice system,” he says, referring to the prosecutor’s behavior.

Fatal and Alcindor submitted an official complaint and didn’t give up until it reached the attorney general’s desk. After a few months, the prosecutor was indefinitely suspended.

Fatal explains that there’s a whole network of individuals reliant on the unscrupulous practices in Haiti’s courts that they take on, not limited to prosecutors who won’t exercise due diligence. “People come with money in hand, essentially buying their own justice,” he says. There’s nepotism and other forms of bribery, too. According to the two lawyers, tackling such cases is emblematic of their efforts to set precedents, curb criminal behaviour and strategically target entrenched, systemic issues.

Their efforts, though, are unsurprisingly often met with backlash. “When you take this kind of action, the whole system turns against you,” Alcindor says, reflecting on the negative comments at the courthouse he and Fatal have received following incidents like these.

“Some judges, commissioners and even lawyers turn against you,” Fatal adds.

A bullet once struck Fatal’s car dashboard while he was on his way to work, adding to the daily pressure both men face. They still don’t know if the bullet was directed at Fatal or if it was random.

As a result of their relentless advocacy, Alcindor and Fatal have seen small changes in the conduct of previously corrupt judges and prosecutors. Some tend to adopt a more guarded approach in their activities now, reflecting a heightened awareness of scrutiny. “Although they haven’t stopped their questionable practices, you can’t do it out in the open anymore,” Alcindor says.

Forgotten behind bars

A significant part of Alcindor and Fatal’s work, perhaps born out of Alcindor’s early days as a lawyer, involves advocating for those in jail without charge or representation. In Haiti, it is estimated that more than 80 percent of prisoners have never seen a judge, according to 2023 data. Most prisoners that the two lawyers have represented since 2019 had their files lost in the 2010 Haiti earthquake, meaning that they have literally been forgotten in prison. Every year, the justice system also arrests more people than it can process, leading to overpopulated prisons lacking basic necessities. The amount of prisoners exceeds the designed capacity of prisons by more than threefold — and these often overlooked people are enduring conditions far beyond what is humane.

Inside the prisons, the smell itself is almost unbearable, as the prisoners don’t get regular showers, says Alcindor, and they don’t get much to eat either. In just three months last year, 73 prisoners, out of 11,800, died, primarily due to diseases related to malnutrition. In the space of more than five years, Alcindor and Fatal, with the support of Lawyers Without Borders Canada, have successfully freed more than 500 unlawfully held prisoners. In one instance, a man named Destin was released after spending 14 years behind bars without seeing a judge. “I would never forget his name,” Alcindor says, audibly disturbed.

With the help of Lawyers Without Borders Canada, which until recently was the main financial supporter of the Human Rights Laboratory, Alcindor and Fatal have developed a unique approach to obtaining the release of these detainees. They bundle multiple similar cases to be handled collectively, which has made it possible to assert the rights of more than one detainee in a single proceeding.

This departure from traditional, individual case processing has resulted in a significant acceleration of legal proceedings. It has lightened the burden on overwhelmed judges who can now issue a single ruling covering multiple cases, and it has streamlined operations within the slow-moving bureaucratic system. And this type of request is also being used in other jurisdictions throughout the country, thanks to the work Fatal and Alcindor have done on a habeas corpus guide that’s now used by other Haitian lawyers as well.

“In recent years, Canada, as a long-standing ally, has contributed to offering hope in Haiti. Important gains have been made that … could now be at stake,” says Taïna Noster, director of Lawyers Without Borders Canada’s Haiti office. “The Haitian human rights defenders are ambitious, but the means are lacking. It is crucial to continue to believe in them, to believe in justice and in the rule of law.”

Alcindor and Fatal fight daily to provide free access to justice for those who would otherwise have no way to even plead a case. “If someone doesn’t have the means, they are stuck in the penal system,” Fatal states. “That’s why we created the laboratory.”

In the midst of Haiti’s corruption and broken legal system, Alcindor and Fatal’s unwavering dedication to justice not only defends the forgotten but also illuminates a path toward a more equitable future. In a country desperate for justice, they stand not just as lawyers but also as symbols of a brighter future for all Haitians.

Fatal’s optimism fuels their mission: “If we had lost hope, we would have already left the country,” Fatal says. “We believe the system will change. [So] much has already shifted.”

This story was originally produced and published by Narratively as part of its partnership with Bigger Than Our Borders, a collaborative of Canadian non-profit organizations.