The Heart of the Fish A Testimony from Haiti to Abaco

My name is Jean-Marc Baptiste and I am a teacher at a government school here in Abaco Bahamas. Ive always been known for my sharp intuition my boundless energy and the way I can connect with students and colleagues on a level most people cant quite explain. Some call me blessed others call me gifted but very few know the truth of my story. Today Ill share it with you.

I was born in a small fishing village on the southern coast of Haiti a place where the sea and the mountains tell stories older than time. My grandmother Manman Nola was a healer a woman feared and respected. She was the one people turned to when doctors failed and priests grew silent.

When I was nine years old I fell gravely ill. My heart the doctors said was weak. My mother cried by my bedside and my father stared at the ground defeated. Manman Nola however said nothing. She simply stood at the door of our home staring into the dark night.

Three days later she woke me before dawn and told me to follow her. We walked barefoot for hours until we reached a hidden cove where the sea was so still it looked like polished glass. There she began to sing an old song a song I had never heard before but felt deep in my bones.

From the depths of that still water a fish emerged. It was unlike anything I had ever seen silver with faint blue markings eyes like polished obsidian and a faint glow emanating from its body. Manman Nola told me its name was Pwason Lespwi The Spirit Fish.

She turned to me and said Jean-Marc your body is too weak for this world. But your spirit is strong. Tonight you will become something more.

That night under a full moon my grandmother performed a ritual that words cannot fully describe. I was awake but I felt no fear. She placed her hands over my chest and with a blade made of bone and coral she opened me. I should have died I know that now but I didnt. Instead I felt warmth spread through my body as she took out my failing human heart and replaced it with the still-beating heart of the Spirit Fish.

When I awoke I was no longer the same.

A New Life with an Unseen Gift

From that day on I began to change. I could see things others couldnt peoples intentions their fears their hidden struggles. I could feel the emotions of others as if they were my own. My body grew stronger faster more agile. I could swim for hours without tiring and run without losing my breath.

But it wasnt just physical. My mind became sharper. I could solve problems quicker retain knowledge effortlessly and understand complex ideas with ease.

Manman Nola warned me You have been given a gift Jean-Marc but gifts like these are heavy. They will set you apart.

And she was right. I grew distant from my peers. They could sense something different about me something they couldnt place. But despite the isolation I excelled in school earning scholarships that eventually brought me to the Bahamas.

A Teacher in Abaco

Today I stand in front of my classroom in Abaco pouring everything I have into my students. They call me Mister B and they know that I see them not just their faces but their souls. They feel it when I speak to them when I push them to believe in themselves when I stay late to help them understand a lesson.

Sometimes in the quiet moments I walk to the beach at sunset and I can feel the heartbeat of the ocean. My own heart it still beats differently. When I place my hand on my chest I feel the faint rhythm of the Spirit Fish steady and eternal.

The Burden and the Blessing

I know now that my life is no longer entirely my own. I am a guardian of something ancient something sacred. My abilities are not for selfish gain but to uplift those around me to protect and to guide.

Some nights I dream of my grandmother standing at that still cove singing to the fish beneath the surface. I wake up with tears on my face and a fire in my chest a reminder that my story though extraordinary is still being written.

If you ever meet me in Abaco and you look closely into my eyes you might see it that faint glow that deep stillness. And if you ask I will tell you

The heart of the fish still beats within me.