Ninaj Raoul, a human rights activist and executive director of the New York-based Haitian Women for Haitian Refugees, remembers meeting Sonia Pierre in 1994 at a conference decrying the agonizing plight of Haitian refugees.
On Wednesday, Raoul will watch as her mentor is buried in the Dominican Republic, where Pierre had been battling for the rights of Haitians and Dominican Haitians since Pierre was a teenager.
On December 4, 2011, Sonia Pierre died suddenly of a heart attack outside Villa Altagracia, where she was born to Haitian parents in an impoverished community of cane workers, on a batey. The 48 year old founder of MUDHA — Movimiento De Mujeres Dominico-Haitiana or Movement of Dominican Haitian Women — and the face and voice of thousands of Haitians and Dominican Haitians, Pierre leaves behind her mother, ten brothers and sisters, four children and three grandchildren, and those for whom she has been advocating since she was arrested, when she was 13, for organizing a five-day protest.
“Sonia, was a tremendous leader,” recalls Raoul. “Her human example and work for justice for so many are now a permanent legacy.”
Writer and educator Marie Lily Cerat, who sometimes acted as an English translator for her longtime friend, remembers a woman who spent days and nights dreaming a better world. “From the first day I met her,” says Cerat, “I was in awe of her humility and clarity about what each one could do to truly achieve an equitable world free of racism and inequalities. Her dedication and passion for human rights, women and girls’ rights, and her deep compassion for others were unmatched in our generation.”
Filmmaker Amy Serrano, whose award-winning documentary, Sugar Babies, which I narrated, deals with the plight of stateless children who work as child laborers in Dominican cane fields, said upon learning of Sonia’s death: “Having spent considerable time with Sonia in Santo Domingo, Europe, and Canada on the issue of invisible children whose Haitian parents were trafficked to the Dominican Republic to serve powerful sugar interests, Sonia’s voice and presence was one of the very few that shone bright. Her words and legacy will live on.”
Miami resident Leonie Hermantin, deputy director of the Lambi Fund of Haiti, first met Sonia Pierre after hearing her speak several years ago at an International Women’s Day event in Miami.
“I was impressed by her demeanor,” remembers Hermantin, “her quiet yet intense determination to fight for the rights of our brothers and sisters.” The two met again recently, in Washington, where Pierre discussed, among other things, the victims of the Jan. 12, 2010, earthquake. Pierre’s organization, MUDHA, was one of the first on the ground in Haiti. Pierre and her colleagues fed, offered medical attention and nurtured local leaders in Léogâne, at the epicenter of the earthquake.
“Sonia Pierre impressed me yet again by her passion,” remembers Hermantin, “and her profound belief in the power of sisterhood. I also loved the way she reminded us that we share the hyphenated identity of a diaspora.”
Sonia’s passion for justice cost her a great deal. Because of her relentless pursuit of legal status for Haitians born in the Dominican Republic — the denial of which was upheld by the Dominican Supreme Court two days before she died — Pierre and her family often received death threats and she was at times physically assaulted. Though she was the recipient of awards from Amnesty International and the Robert F. Kennedy Center for Justice and Human Rights, she was commonly labeled Enemy No. 1 in her birthplace’s media outlets.





















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