"Si la mer se déchaîne, si le vent souffle fort, si la vague t'entraîne, n'aie pas peur de la mort."

Old Christian Hymn

Norabel

※One week later※

The voices of the choir echo throughout the church and everyone stands up as the pallbearers are bringing out Henry's coffin. His funeral service is coming to an end. It was held at the Baptist church that Henry's mother is a member of, on a Saturday morning with a clear blue sky.

It's almost criminal that the weather has chosen to be the most beautiful it could be on a day when the heavens are supposed to be wailing at the loss of such a pure soul.

The church is packed and I recognized a lot of students from uni but there is also a sea of unknown faces. I wonder if some of those people came to show their support in response to the march that we held last week.

My mother stands on my left in a solemn silence and Keisha on my right grips my hand tightly as silent tears stream down her face.

Henry's immediate family is walking behind the pallbearers. My heart breaks in a thousand pieces at the sight of the distraught expression of Valérie Casimir who's being held by a man I assume to be Henry's father. Their mutual grief is a dark cloud hanging above their silhouettes. The seven-year-old sister is holding her mother's hand. She's wearing a black dress with a bow tied in front. Her childish face is devoid of emotion. Her eyes are vacant as if she doesn't quite grasp the idea that her brother is gone.

In a split second, little Mindy breaks out of her mother's grip to run after the coffin. Her small hands grab the golden handles of the casket. A heart-wrenching scream rises from her throat, exploding throughout the church.

"Daddy!!!"

Mindy's agony shatters at once the somber atmosphere that reigned inside and many people are now openly sobbing.

A knife twists inside my guts when I suddenly remember that Henry told me about how Mindy used to call him Dad.

She continues to scream at the top of her lungs as Valérie succumbs to the unbearable weight of her pain. She falls to her knees as she wails with the devastating rage of a mother who has lost her raison d'être. The father also kneels to circle her between his arms. Together they mourn the loss of their beloved son.

A family member picks up Mindy who trashes vehemently as she keeps on yelling as the coffin is being taken away.

I divert my attention from this heartbreaking scene as my sadness threatens to engulf me like merciless waves during a thunderstorm. Keisha and I keep holding on to each other's hand as she sobs in a handkerchief and I close my eyes.

Maybe if I concentrate hard enough this gnawing wound inside my chest will finally stop hurting.

The choir continues to sing "N'aie pas peur de la mort," and I'm wondering how are we supposed to not be afraid of death when every day might be our last one.

***

※ One-month later※

I've never been inside a TV station before much less on a set in front of cameras and an intimidating crowd.

I search with my eyes for that familiar face in the audience and despite the lights from the projectors fixated above the set, I'm still able to notice my mother sitting in the front row. She gives me a tiny wave that barely conceals her excitement at seeing me up here. Her only daughter, guest of honor on the most-watched talk show in the country. A small nod of encouragement from her made my nerves dissipate a little.

My best friend is probably cursing the entire universe that she can't be here today. She's been glued to her bed with summer flu for three days. She did send me a pep talk message about an hour ago to assure me that I'm going to "kill it!"

A lovely technician lady comes up to clip a Lavalier microphone on my blouse. The host, Lionel DuPerrier, sits across from me on an identical gray sofa. There's a mahogany table in front of us with a few biographies of world leaders as part of the décor. Behind us there's a wide screen showing the name of the talk show: "DuPerrier Vous Raconte!"

Mr. DuPerrier, he's told me to call him Lionel, glances up from the tablet he was reading on, probably reviewing his notes for our interview as the staff finishes to get ready to go on air for our interview.

"Nervous?"

"Any tips that might help?" I ask back with a tight smile.

He engages me in conversation about the end of my bachelor studies drawing closer and the plans that I have after graduation. I'm grateful for that temporary distraction and find myself getting more comfortable as opposed to the anxious mess that I was a few minutes earlier.

Lionel DuPerrier is a svelte man, around his early fifties with salt and pepper hair, light skin, and a posture that indicates he was born into the kind of family that values appearances as much as social status. His family, the DuPerriers, are part of the small percentage of the bourgeois that has a monopoly on Haiti's economy. My mother who's an avid supporter of his talk show had told me about his precarious debut in the press before he rose to fame.

Around two decades ago Lionel DuPerrier decided to turn away from his family's empire to pave his way through the media. The country had followed his unlikely journey with close attention. He went from being the black sheep bourgeois black sheep to a public figure that the nation respected because of his skillful analysis of the system of the topics he discussed.

Needless to say that being on his show today, about to go live soon, is a huge privilege. The whole country will be watching me. I know he'd be proud if was here.

One of the staff gestures to Lionel that they are ready to go live which puts an end to our small conversation. He shifts toward the main camera as someone countdowns with their fingers: 3, 2, 1.

We're on the air.

Lionel begins the show with his signature introduction and after a round of polite applause from the public, he introduces me.

"Today on set we have a special guest joining us. I'm sure you all remember the peace march that was held last month in memory of the departed Henry Bolivar. A former university student tragically died at the hands of the infamous gang controlling the entire neighborhood of Torcelle. Our guest here was not only Henry's former classmate but also the one who started the movement "Nou se Henry" which has now become viral throughout the country. Please help me give a warm welcome to young social activist Norabel Callia Vincent."

The audience erupts in a loud chorus of cheers and applause. Their welcoming energy makes my heart pound rapidly inside my chest. I am here. This is not a dream.

"Thank you for having me Lionel," I answer with a composure that surprises me. "It's a pleasure for me to be here but I have to confide that there's someone else who's even happier than I am right now."

"Oh really?" His voice takes on a jovial tone as he inquires, "And who might be that mysterious person?"

I gesture with my hand toward the front row of the audience as I answer, "My mother has been your unconditional fan for years now. She even shed tears when I received the invitation to appear in your show."

The crowd lets out a collective "aw" as Lionel brings a hand to his chest in a courteous manner with a humble smile playing on his lips. He's facing the public though I'm not sure if he's able to spot my mother as easily as I could.

"I am deeply touched by your support, madam. Let me take this opportunity to congratulate you on raising such an amazing daughter."

Once again the audience applauds cheerfully. I can imagine my mother walking on cloud nine at the moment. Being congratulated on national TV by her favorite television host is probably a lifetime achievement for her. I might tease her later about the fact that I always suspected she had a crush on Lionel.

When the room quiets down he turns back to me ready to begin our interview. I'm relieved to realize that any previous sign of stress that I felt before the show began has disappeared without a trace. I'm in my element now, excited to deliver what I came here for.

"So Norabel, can you tell us a bit about the journey that has brought you here today, from the peace march to this social movement?"

I was prepared for this question and I don't hesitate to dive right into the answer with the same confidence that I practiced in front of my bedroom mirror.

"After the success of the march, it came to my attention that many young people wanted to make their voice heard even if there was no guarantee that our pleas would be taken into consideration. I gathered the same students from my university who had helped organize the march and together we began to brainstorm a few ideas. Our goal was to come up with an event that would not only bring attention to the raging insecurity but also to the fact that even education is now in peril as many schools are closing their doors due to the impending menace of being attacked by gangs."

"And that's how 'Nou se Henry' was born."

"Exactly. We had already used that slogan for the march so the students and I decided to make it the foundation of our movement. Many problems need to be tackled in this country but we aimed to focus on specific matters that spoke to our daily struggle as students. Henry had a little sister and a few months before he passed away her elementary school was forced to close down because they were threatened by the gangs of Torcelle. That's only one case out of many others. During our brainstorming sessions, we decided that 'safety for areas where schools are implemented' was one of the causes that we wanted to advocate for. Once we settled on the matter we had the fuel to get our movement started."

"Wonderful," Lionel says as the audience breaks into another round of applause.

I notice that the screen behind us is now showing several pictures of me and a few members of our association during meetings with high-ranked police officers and other peaceful rallies that we organized in front of closed schools and police stations across the capital.

"Can you tell us the biggest challenge that your association has had to face since the launch of Nou Se Henry?"

That's an easy question.

"To be honest every step of the process is challenging. However, the most daunting task is having to list all of the schools throughout the capital that were targeted by gangs and stopped operating. It's become easier for us to find them because more people are contacting us either via our website or our social media accounts with useful information that could have taken us days or weeks to gather."

"And your association brings attention to those schools so that law enforcement can step in and take measures to allow those establishments to reopen in safe conditions?"

"That's correct. The association Nou Se Henry meets with whichever authority is willing to sit down and listen to us as we present the critical circumstances of those particular schools. More often than not we are met with clear answers that nothing can be done yet for a particular area and we understand that the gang problem is not going to be resolved in the blink of an eye. But there's been a significant effort from the police ever since we started this movement to help keep schooling areas more secure."

"It's been a month since your association has begun to advocate. How many schools from your list have reopened?"

"So far there are twenty-nine schools around the capital that reopened after Nou Se Henry brought their case to the concerned bodies."

"Impressive!"

This time the thunderous applause lasts even longer as the crowd cheers.

"Before we take our commercial break," Lionel says when the calm resumes. "I would like to address this interview that you did a few weeks ago for the nationwide newspaper Le Nouvelliste. You've mentioned that there's someone who has been a source of inspiration for you throughout this journey. Can you tell us more about how that person inspired you?"

The question lands with the same effect as a volcanic eruption. Of all the things that I imagined could go wrong with this interview, I would've never thought that I'd have to answer a question involving Ethan.

Thankfully I hadn't given any name during that interview with Le Nouvelliste and kept my declaration gender-neutral. I didn't want anybody to start speculating about a secret lover and see theories popping around the internet.

I keep my composure as I answer Lionel.

"A close friend of mine always had hope that this country would eventually get to a better place if we kept fighting for our future. At the time I was angry at the idea that as Haitians our entire existence seems to be reduced to fighting over and over again. But eventually, I came to realize that fighting doesn't put us in a position of despair on the contrary it makes us powerful. All the nations that have risen to glory throughout the history of humanity were only able to reach that point because their people never stopped fighting for the future that they wanted to achieve. We Haitians must be proud to be fighters because the ones who fight are the ones who survive."

"Oh my word, what an inspirational declaration!" Lionel exclaims as he turns to face the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up one more time for Norabel Callia Vincent!"

He stands up to shake my hand and I follow his lead. The audience is chanting all kinds of compliments, making me dizzy with adrenaline and euphoria. As I stand here on the set it begins to dawn upon me that maybe Keisha was right. She has told me multiple times over the past few weeks that I was born to inspire people.

I'm starting to believe it.

***Chapter Endnotes***

"If the sea rages, if the wind is blowing hard if the waves take you away, don't be afraid of death." Christian Hymn

DuPerrier Vous Raconte* : DuPerrier Tells You

Author's Note:

The amazing singer in the video at the beginning of the chapter is Celigny Dathus a Haitian gospel singer who's popular on YouTube due to his covers of Christian songs. His channel almost has 100k subscribers and he's got A LOT of covers so you might want to check him out if you ever feel the urge to worship!

This song title is "Si la mer se déchaîne". (If the sea rages) In our tradition here it's a song that we often sing in Christian churches during funerals. I felt it most suited for Henry's last goodbye.

I honestly cried the first time that I thought about this scene and I hope I made it as heartbreaking as it was in my head!

We're now ALMOST at the END of this long road and I'm getting so emotional but I'm saving the big speech for the next chapter that will be the LAST.

Please tell me...

HOW PROUD ARE YOU GUYS OF NORABEL???

Much Love, Cassy x