Daniel Charles remembers his childhood in Haiti as a blend of hardship and love. Raised by his mother and older sister, Emmanuela, in a world where poverty shaped every decision, he remembers the warmth of his family more clearly than the harshness of his circumstances.
“We didn’t have money, and our food came from the school. I’d bring extra food home for my mom and sister,” Charles recalls.
The day his mother left for Panama was one Charles would never forget. At just six years old, he couldn’t fully understand why she had to leave, but as a child, he had no say in the decision.
Charles moved in with his uncle, an evangelical pastor, but recalls with fondness his visits to his grandfather — visits that were always met with punishment from his uncle upon his return.
Eventually, Charles’ mother returned to Haiti arranging a passport for him so that he could live with her in Panama. Charles recalls the moment he boarded the plane, his young face pressed against the cold window, watching Haiti disappear beneath him. As the plane soared, the vast ocean stretched endlessly below, carrying him to a new life he could scarcely imagine.
When Charles arrived in his new tenement home in Colon, on the Atlantic, he was introduced to his Panamanian father and “new” little brother. He was also reunited with Emmanuela. Here, Charles’ home language had changed, and everyone spoke Spanish. He learned it quickly, embracing his new life.
As days passed, Charles realized his stepfather was a crack addict and his mother was using and drinking. They were always at each other’s throats in a conflict of some sort.
Soon after reuniting with his family, Charles and his siblings were forced to move several times to escape his stepfather’s relentless pursuit.
“But” Charles says, “At some point, she would always go back to him, and the vicious cycle.”
RIO ABAJO
One day, a friend of Charles’ mother’s told her about a place in Panama City where they can live for free, a place called Rio Abajo.
Living in Rio Abajo was like navigating a world on the edge of society. In an abandoned building full of people from all walks of life, Charles found a sense of normalcy in his school routine and his mother’s work.
Charles attended school while his mother worked as a Spanish-Creole freelance translator commuting daily to Colon to support her family. He vividly recalls the day his mother, usually full of energy, couldn’t get out of bed.
“She always had so much energy and wanted to take care of us,” he says. They called an ambulance that rushed her to the hospital.
We didn’t have money, and our food came from the school. I’d bring extra food home for my mom and sister.
After school, Charles went to the hospital to see her. But they wouldn’t let him in — “You’re too young” — words that felt like a cruel barrier. Only Emmanuela was allowed to visit her.
The children went to live with Jose, a lawyer and close neighbor. One night, Charles awoke to a brilliant light. It wasn’t just the brightness of the room; it was a clarity that filled him with an inexplicable sense of peace.
That morning, Charles went to school and his sister went to the hospital. Emmanuela entered the room to an empty bed. A sense of joy came over her — she had recovered! Upon inquiring, they replied: “She died.”
Soon after, someone at school informed Charles that his mother had died. He never doubted that she had visited him in his sleep — somehow comforting him in the most profound way.
STRUGGLES
After her mother’s death, Emmanuela struggled to cope. At just 14, she reverted to 1984 — a time before Charles was born — when everything seemed happy and normal. It was months before Emmanuela recognized her brother again.
Charles’ life was never the same. His mother’s spirit lingered in his memories, guiding him even in the darkest moments. In a sense, not just in the life she gave him, but in the strength she had instilled, which would carry him forward.
One day, a woman approached Jose saying that she was Charles’ aunt. She took the children to Chorera, an impoverished community not far from Rio Abajo. Angry, the aunt reverted to beating the children. Once, she hit Emmanuela on her back with the flat side of a machete. Emmanuela flew out the door, returning with Child Protection officers. The officers took the children and left. The children were temporarily placed with an officer before being transferred to an orphanage.
Charles continued his schooling and noticed a list of top-performing students posted on the hallway billboard. It was a list of the top three students who get free books. He told them his name would be there soon, and eventually, Charles made the list.
LEAVING THE ORPHANAGE
After Charles turned 18, he had to leave the orphanage. But he was undocumented. If stopped on the street, he could be repatriated to Haiti.
In Chorera, Charles had met a neighboring family. Calling them cousins, he went to live with them. With a roof over his head and a safe environment, he began looking for work. But as an undocumented adult, he couldn’t get a legal job. So, he cleaned houses, cared for plants and washed cars to make money.
Later, Charles started making copies for a local university. This opportunity opened the door to more possibilities, allowing him to pursue a college degree. Later, Jose offered Daniel a position making copies and deliveries for his firm.
As time passed, Charles watched, listened and asked questions, soaking up the knowledge. He read “Rich Dad Poor Dad” by Robert Kiyosaki and set his sights on becoming a lawyer, determined to help people like himself — undocumented and struggling.
Charles earned an Associate Degree in English and continued working, saving money and eventually purchasing and renting out an apartment. Despite the odds, Charles achieved independence, working toward his dream of becoming a lawyer, balancing work, study and life.
When told that such an endeavor was “the American Dream,” he smiles.
In 2009, Charles visited the U.S. hoping to see his father, only to learn his father had passed. Returning to Panama that Saturday, he held a “U.N. Party,” inviting friends from around the world.
That night, Charles met a woman from Spain, whom he would later marry and, embraced by the memory of his mother, build a life and a family with him running his own law firm — helping others with immigration and real estate issues based on his own experiences.
