'SOS. We need help please,' read the sign. Because of you, it was on its way to a lucky few
SCRAWLED on the hand-made sign draped from a wall are the words: "SOS we need help please".
It is one of scores of similar desperate pleas that can be seen draped on piles of rubble and the remains of walls as you drive along Port-au-Prince's dusty roads.
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life-savers: Left, the Aquaboxes are distributed in Grasier camp at Port-au-Prince.
They can mean the difference between life and death for many homeless people. Many of the survivors of the devastating earthquake are forced to live in terrible conditions in makeshift shelters in the camp. Bottom left, one of the signs from desperate survivors.
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Next to the signs are surviving family members, huddling in makeshift shelters, too scared to go back inside their homes.
This is a scene that is repeated on every street, even though it is now almost two months after the disaster which killed 200,000 and left a million more homeless.
Locals told me that when building the houses in Haiti, workers mixed too much sand in the concrete to make it more cost-effective. The result of the corner-cutting was devastating.
Hundreds of buildings simply fell to the floor when the earthquake struck on January 12.
Houses, hospitals, schools and government structures lie in piles and there are still bodies inside many because it is not safe to start digging them out. Many people have to walk past, knowing their loved ones lie within but unable to do anything about it.
The people do not have the tools and money to start rebuilding their homes and most are terrified, almost to the point of hysteria, that there will be another quake.
Some live on the road in front of their houses while others have set up camps in groups on parks, football pitches and waste land.
Some have been given tents by aid agencies but most have made shelters out of sticks pushed into the dusty ground, which are covered with blue tarpaulin. The humidity is almost unbearable and often as many as eight family members sleep inside a space which is no more than six-feet square.
Litter and rubble are everywhere. The sewerage system is made up of concrete canals which, because of the lack of water, are dry and filled with plastic bottles, bags, take-away boxes and human waste.
The dust rises off the streets and makes your eyes stream. The roads were poor before the earthquake, littered with holes. Now there are huge cracks across many where the ground has lifted up.
Jobs are few and prostitution is rife. Most people spend the day just wandering around in a desperate search for food and water.
There is a desperate need for these essentials. But they are in short supply.
Haitians are now relying on food hand-outs from the United Nations and aid organisations.
Ordinary people can see no light at the end of a very dark tunnel.
One woman I spoke to summed up the dire situation: "We just don't know how long we are going to have to live like this," she said. "But we have been told that there is another earthquake coming.
"We don't want to try to rebuild only for them all to fall down again – it would be too devastating."
But there is hope.
And it is provided by the legions of aid workers from all over the world.
And some of them are handing out Aquaboxes which started their life in a warehouse in Derbyshire.
After being flown into the earthquake zone, they are now helping to save lives.
The 1,558 Aquaboxes sent by Wirksworth Rotary Club so far are being distributed in the capital Port-au-Prince by the international charity Humanity First.
The organisation, which specialises in sending doctors and nurses to disaster scenes and areas of poverty, was already operating in Haiti when the earthquake struck.
It has now stepped up its work and has been running clinics at various camps across the capital and distributing the Aquaboxes.
This is a difficult task in itself as the people have so little and are literally crying out for help.
Aid workers are warned to be careful when transporting food and water and large convoys often have to have a military escort.
The reason became clear when we reached a camp in an area of Port-au-Prince, called Grasier. The clamour for the Aquaboxes was overwhelming.
At the camp, about 200 families are living in tents donated by aid agencies and makeshift shelters after their homes were destroyed.
There are a few goats and cows tethered to the ground, stray dogs and cats – but no water.
When we first arrived there was an orderly queue for the boxes and the grateful refugees happily accepted one each.
But soon a huge crowd had gathered and the atmosphere changed, becoming intimidating. Before long, scuffles turned into fights with sticks as men clashed over the hand-outs. The boxes were quickly locked back in a secure shed and we fled to our car as the fight raged on.
Dr Aslam Daud, chairman of Humanity First, who joined me in Haiti, said: "This is not what we want to see. This is very sad but they are desperate.
"We will have to look at how we give out the Aquaboxes in the future as this is not what we want to happen.
"It is a difficult job."
Despite the initial setback, Humanity First continued with the task of distributing the Aquaboxes and brought smiles to the faces of scores of Haitians as they did.
They borrowed trucks and hired vans to take the boxes to those who needed them, including orphanages and schools.
They are now providing clean, safe drinking water for hundreds of people in Haiti – and, thanks to you, saving many lives.







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