Exclusive Piece

Opinion | The Haitian Pulse | July 9, 2025

The Haitian Pulse delivers fearless, diasporic perspectives that challenge corruption, expose opportunism, and amplify the voices too often silenced.

A President Gunned Down, a Family in Crisis

In the pre-dawn hours of July 7, 2021, Haitian President Jovenel Moïse was gunned down in his own bedroom, his body riddled with bullets in a shocking act of political violence. The mercenaries who stormed the residence moved with chilling precision, leaving the country in chaos and the president’s family in peril.

According to her own account and some sources, Martine Moïse—Haiti’s First Lady—was also gravely wounded during the attack, shot multiple times and left for dead on the floor. But to this day, questions swirl about the details of what happened that night. What is undisputed is this: the president was assassinated, and within hours his son, Joverlein Moïse, found himself staring down his own brush with death.

This account comes from an exclusive interview with Haitian media personality Guy Wewe. It is a story that has never been told publicly, a revelation shedding light on the hours following the assassination. As truths begin to surface around this shocking event, the Haitian people—tired, angry, and desperate for closure—hope more information will come forward to finally put this matter to rest.

A Desperate Escape

When Joverlein received the call confirming his father’s assassination, he was at a friend’s house. Panic set in. In a nation suddenly leaderless and lawless, he knew instinctively that he and his family were next. “I had no time to think or grieve,” he later told Guy Wewe. “I had to figure out how to save my wife and my three-year-old child.”

As the night unfolded, intelligence reports and street whispers confirmed what he feared: heavily armed groups were moving across Port-au-Prince, and his name was likely on their list. With his family in one car and security personnel trailing behind in another, he made a split-second decision to flee toward the U.S. embassy. To him, it was the only logical sanctuary—the place where America, Haiti’s self-proclaimed ally and partner, would protect the son of its slain friend.

A Sanctuary Denied

But what transpired next has left many Haitians questioning America’s true role in their country.

At 4 AM, Joverlein arrived at the U.S. embassy gates, his car riddled with bullets from an earlier ambush as he fled. His diplomatic passport in hand, he told staff plainly: “I am the son of Haiti’s assassinated president. My family includes American citizens. If I leave here, they will kill us.”

The embassy’s response? They told him to wait.

There was no immediate shelter, no offer of armed escort, no gesture of humanitarian assistance. He and his terrified family—including his three-year-old child—sat in the parking lot for hours as embassy staff insisted they needed clearance from the U.S. State Department before acting. That clearance never came.

“I showed them the state of my car, holes everywhere from the bullets,” Joverlein recounted. “They looked at me and told me to wait until the State Department opened.”

He waited until 2 PM—nearly 10 agonizing hours—until finally a family friend arranged a private charter to evacuate Martine Moïse for emergency treatment in Florida. Only then did Joverlein secure a way out for his family.

Friendship or Hypocrisy?

For decades, Washington has postured as Haiti’s protector, touting democratic values and regional stability. But on that day, with the president’s son begging for protection and holding a diplomatic passport, the embassy’s gates became a wall.

“As bullets rained down on my car, I thought they would help me. But they made me wait. They made me wait while I thought my child and wife could be killed.” — Joverlein Moïse

This moment exposes a devastating truth: American friendship with Haiti is conditional. And in Haiti’s darkest hour, it was nonexistent.

What message does it send when the U.S., a nation claiming to stand for democracy and human rights, retreats into bureaucracy while a presidential family is hunted? Was this indifference—or something more sinister?

Complicity in Silence

Let’s call it what it is: complicity. To tell a fleeing presidential family, under active threat, to wait in a parking lot for ten hours is more than negligence. It is betrayal.

This was not a remote village far from U.S. intelligence. This was the embassy—the very heart of American operations in Haiti. If America could not or would not act there, what does that say about its intentions in the region?

“They told me nothing. I waited and waited. No one came. No one cared.” — Joverlein Moïse

Haitians know the answer. And many are starting to ask: if Washington wasn’t directly involved in Jovenel’s assassination, was it complicit through its silence?

A Nation’s Cry for Answers

Four years later, the investigation into Jovenel Moïse’s assassination remains stalled. Haitian prosecutors have faced obstruction, evidence has vanished, and international agencies drag their feet. Could the embassy’s treatment of Joverlein be the missing piece to understanding this deliberate inertia?

If the U.S. truly supports Haitian democracy, it must:

1. Release all embassy logs and communications from July 7, 2021.

2. Allow testimony from staff who interacted with Joverlein that morning.

3. Come clean about what it knew—and when.

4. Explain why a presidential family holding diplomatic credentials was denied aid.

The Haitian Pulse Perspective

The story of Joverlein’s escape is not just about one man’s terror. It is a mirror reflecting Haiti’s broader struggle against foreign dominance and betrayal. When even the president’s son is abandoned, how can any Haitian trust America’s promises?

“We thought they were our friends. That day, they showed us the truth.” — Joverlein Moïse

Haitians deserve answers—not tomorrow, not next year, but now. Because without truth, there can be no justice. And without justice, there can be no peace.

The Haitian Pulse delivers fearless, diasporic perspectives that challenge corruption, expose opportunism, and amplify the voices too often silenced. Our reporting bridges the gap between Haiti and its global diaspora, connecting local struggles to universal calls for justice, equity, and progress. Every story we publish is rooted in integrity and an unwavering commitment to a better future for Haiti and its people.