Financial ties bind friends and family across the oceans

At a food stand in front of St Jerome's Church, the core of Brooklyn's Little Haiti, Elizabeth Langoise sells cinnamon, nuts and cassava bread. She is here every day, rain or shine, and uses the business to send money to her nieces and nephews in Haiti, whose mother died in the earthquake that ravaged the Caribbean country five years ago.

Ms Langoise is one of some 4m Haitians emigres who send nearly $2bn in remittances every year, equating to almost a quarter of Haiti's gross domestic product.

Despite their economic dependence on family and friends abroad, Haitians do not always welcome the influence of the diaspora - sometimes pejoratively called "dyas".

"They see us as outsiders, as a threat to come and take their jobs," says Magalie Theodore, organiser at Friends of Haiti, a non-profit. "When I go back home, I don't really feel welcome."

Tensions date back to at least 1986, when violent protests led to the ousting of authoritarian President Jean-Claude Duvalier. Many emigres then returned, hoping to rebuild the nation, but Haitians who had lived through the dictatorship resisted.

Haitians can be sceptical about taking help from Haitian-Americans who aim to influence policy, says Nedgine Paul, co-founder of an education non-profit in Haiti.

"A lot of people think: you don't know our reality," she says. "People feel the diaspora need to be more informed about how they can help, instead of just coming here and trying to set the agenda."

Meanwhile, the diaspora bemoans that even as they send more and more money back home, they are not allowed to vote or run for office in Haiti, something for which the diaspora has fought for years. "They don't want to be just a bank," says professor Bob Maguire, a Haiti specialist at George Washington University.

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With elections in Haiti this year, many migrants are disillusioned with Haitian politics that have been marred by corruption. Haitian President Joseph Martelly - nicknamed "Sweet Micky" - has been accused of taking $2.5m in bribes from Dominican contractors, allegations that he denies, and surrounding himself with cronies arrested for murder, kidnapping and drug trafficking.

Most Haitian emigres are focused solely on economic development for the country. And, with a fragmented political landscape - there are 166 official parties approved for the elections - some do not take a political stance at all.

The diaspora has increased in size since the earthquake, as governments softened their immigration policies when hundreds of thousands of Haitians sought refuge in the US, Canada, Dominican Republic, Brazil and Venezuela.

Remittances to Haiti have nearly tripled since 2000, rising each year even as recessions and job losses hit US incomes.

This has been essential in the wake of the earthquake, because remittances go directly to the pockets of consumers, whereas official aid programmes take time to trickle down through the economy, says Prof Maguire.

Remittances will only become more important, as most of the official post-earthquake aid has already been disbursed and many relief groups have left the island. Haiti has received about 80 per cent of the $12.5bn pledged for post-earthquake humanitarian aid.

Apart from remittances, the Haitian government has tried to attract investment from foreigners through marketing campaigns and tax breaks, but despite initial optimism, investment numbers are still "miserable", says Jackson Rockingster, president of the Haitian-American Business Network.

Foreign direct investment in Haiti totalled $190m in 2013, about the same as that of 2009, as corruption, political turmoil, security concerns and weak infrastructure held back businesses from opening in Haiti.

The earthquake reawakened Haitian nostalgia within the diaspora, who have become more organised as a result, says Rodneyse Bichotte, a New York state assemblywoman, who quit her job on Wall Street to become involved in local politics after the disaster. "There was a change in the air, especially for the younger generation. When I was growing up, it wasn't cool to be Haitian."

Perched on her food stand, Ms Langoise says that despite the sometimes fraught bond between the diaspora and family back home, remittances are a way of life. "You have to," she says. "They depend on us. Here is the place we can make a difference, right?"

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