“Every evening I relive the time I spent under the rubble. Sometimes, when I hear [loud] noises, I hide under the bed,” says Manise, recalling the terrible three days she spent buried under the ruins of her home after it collapsed on top of her during the 2010 Haiti earthquake. “I was seriously injured and I didn't know if my daughter and husband were alive.”

When she was finally found, Manise was taken to hospital in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. Both her legs were broken, and her severely damaged right arm had to be amputated. “When my husband saw me, he was frightened,” says Manise. “He left and I never saw him again.”

Manise eventually returned to the Haiti countryside to live with a relative. Although she was reunited with her daughter Miline, she was unable to care for her or do other basic tasks like cooking. Manise was devastated: she survived the earthquake, but so much had been lost.

Then, one day, things began to look up. “A friend from Port-au-Prince called me and told me there was an organization called Handicap International that helps amputees,” says Manise. “I traveled to the capital and visited Handicap International's orthopedic-fitting center, where I met a lot of other women like me who had lost an arm. Handicap International fitted me with a prosthetic arm and physical therapists taught me how to live with one arm—how to cook, care for a child, and do housework.”

After receiving support and training, Manise was performing everyday activities, but, without her husband or other close family members, she was unable to pay for necessities like food and housing. Handicap International, which strives to help people with disabilities live full, independent lives, included Manise in its economic inclusion project. Through the program, Manise was able to set up her own small business, a food shop. One of Handicap International's community officers showed her how to organize her inventory, invest her earnings, and save money. 

Two years after the earthquake, Manise is now self-reliant. She can pay her rent and, above all, her daughter can live with her. “I can even pay the school fees. My little girl goes to school,” she says proudly.

Still, she bears the psychological scars of what she has been through: “My daughter regularly asks me where my arm has gone. We often cry together. My daughter says, ‘Mom, please don't cry'. But I tell her that it's not wrong to cry and that it does you good.”

However, when she goes to church on Sunday, Manise dresses elegantly and wears her prosthesis with pride. “At times like those, I feel just like everyone else,” she says.