It seems counterintuitive that in the aftermath of the Haitian earthquake, a tragic death like that of fifteen-year-old Fabienne Cherisma could become more than just a moment of personal loss for her family. Fabienne’s shooting by police on January 19, 2010, stands as a stark symbol of the broader injustices surrounding Haiti’s crisis—a moment of violence amidst an already incomprehensible tragedy. Yet, it is this very death, captured in a haunting image of her lifeless body on a rooftop, that has the potential to transcend its specific circumstances and speak to the world about the broader plight of the Haitian people.

The image of Fabienne, her body contorted and abandoned in an unsettling pose, could easily become a symbol of suffering and injustice. But it is crucial to recognize that not all media coverage in the wake of such events is purely exploitative. While some may argue that the graphic nature of these images contributes to a form of “disaster pornography,” it is important to consider that certain images are effective in raising awareness, galvanizing public response, and securing the aid necessary for recovery. However, this use of visual documentation must be done with caution and respect for the dignity of the victims. The aim is not to reduce Fabienne’s death to a mere spectacle, but rather to allow it to serve as a poignant reminder of the human cost of both the earthquake and the political turmoil that followed.

The media’s role is not simply to document the chaos, but to ensure that the story does not end with the initial shock. If Haiti’s recovery is only reported in the fleeting aftermath of the disaster, the risk of falling into a cycle of sensationalized, shallow coverage becomes real. Journalists must continue to follow the long-term struggles of survivors, showing the journey of recovery and resilience that follows.

Fabienne’s death should not be seen as an isolated incident, nor should it be treated as a one-dimensional symbol. Her tragic end, whether the result of a misdirected warning shot or a deliberate targeting, was senseless and should be remembered as part of the larger narrative of Haiti’s suffering. If her image becomes symbolic, it must not be for political gain or to feed a voyeuristic appetite for tragedy. It must, instead, fuel a broader conversation about justice, both for the victims of natural disasters and the systemic violence they sometimes endure in their wake.

Ultimately, Fabienne Cherisma’s story challenges us to confront the complexities of media coverage in times of crisis. It is a reminder that while the media’s role is to inform and provoke action, it must also honor the humanity behind every image it presents. The symbol that emerges from her death should serve the survivors, not merely the survivors of the earthquake, but of the broader cycles of violence and neglect that have plagued Haiti for generations. It is not the image of Fabienne’s body itself that should define her legacy, but the dignity and hope that her memory can inspire.