Port-au-Prince, Haiti — Ronide Baduel keeps a broken teacup tucked away for safekeeping.
One day, she will look at it, maybe even smile, and recall how life’s rhythms shifted with the earth in January.
She was unlike many of her Haitian compatriots who were barely squeaking by. She had everything: an education, a decent job as a nurse, a three-bedroom home she rented with her teenage son, who was in school.
But when the massive earthquake struck, Baduel’s house collapsed. For the first time in her life, she had nothing.
She ran through the streets clutching the hand of her injured son, following the crowd to Champs de Mars, a large plaza near the heavily damaged presidential palace.
She spent the first night sitting on a low concrete wall. In the morning light, she saw the panicked look in the faces of thousands of people and she thought the worst. “Life was done,” she said. “There was going to be no tomorrow.”