Mutuelles and Sending Circles

On the second Saturday of every month, in the basement of a church on Miami's North Miami Avenue, a group of Haitian women gather in a circle. Each woman places an envelope of cash on the table in front of her. Some envelopes hold $50, others hold $100, and a few hold as much as $300. There is a notebook, passed from hand to hand, in which each contribution is recorded in neat columns. After the money is counted, the entire pool, often several thousand dollars, is handed to one woman. Next month, it will go to another. The cycle continues until every woman has received the pooled sum exactly once. Then it begins again.

This is a mutuelle, also called "sol" or "sangue" in Haitian Creole. It is a rotating savings and credit association, or ROSCA, and it is one of the oldest and most resilient financial institutions in the Haitian community. In the diaspora, where millions of Haitian families live under the shadow of Temporary Protected Status and its uncertain future, mutuelles and the related phenomenon of sending circles have become an invisible banking system, one that operates entirely on trust, entirely outside the formal financial sector, and entirely without the protections that most Americans take for granted (Hossein 2021; Haitian Times Mar. 2026).

This blog post examines the role of mutuelles and sending circles in the lives of Haitian TPS families. Using the PROVEN framework, it explores the Problem of financial exclusion, the Root Cause in immigration policy and structural discrimination, the Outcome of community-driven mutual aid, the Vision of a financial system that includes rather than excludes, the Engagement of diaspora communities in sustaining these traditions, and the Next Steps for protecting the families who depend on them.

"Many hands make the load light."

That Haitian proverb, which serves as the motto of the Haitian Bridge Alliance, captures the essence of the mutuelle system. In a community where access to formal credit is limited by immigration status, thin credit files, and banking discrimination, the pooling of resources is not a luxury. It is a survival strategy (Haitian Bridge Alliance; Hossein 2021).

The PROVEN Framework: Understanding the Mutuelle Ecosystem

Problem. Haitian TPS families face severe barriers to accessing formal financial services. Without permanent legal status, many cannot open bank accounts, qualify for credit cards, obtain mortgages, or access small business loans. The FDIC's biennial survey of unbanked and underbanked households consistently shows that noncitizens are among the most likely to be unbanked, and Haitian immigrants in particular face additional barriers of language, documentation requirements, and banking discrimination (FWD.us / UndocuBlack / HBA Jan. 2026; Hossein 2021). At the same time, these families face extraordinary financial pressures: immigration legal fees that can range from $500 to $5,000 per case, USCIS filing fees that run into the hundreds of dollars per application, bond payments for detained family members, emergency remittances to relatives in Haiti, rent, medical bills, and the everyday costs of raising children in American cities. The result is a population that is simultaneously economically productive and financially precarious: Haitian TPS holders contribute $5.9 billion annually to the U.S. economy, yet many live paycheck to paycheck, with no safety net beyond what they build themselves (Haitian Times Feb. 2026; FWD.us / UndocuBlack / HBA Jan. 2026).

Root Cause. The root cause of this financial exclusion is a legal and policy framework that treats TPS holders as temporary even when they have lived in the United States for more than a decade. The "temporary" label deprives them of the stability needed to build credit, accumulate savings in formal institutions, or plan for the long term. Banking discrimination compounds the problem. Dr. Caroline Shenaz Hossein, a professor at the University of Toronto and the leading scholar on Black ROSCAs, interviewed 138 Haitians and Grenadians for her research and found that 81% of Haitian cooperators said formal banks ignore the social aspects people need. Banks demand documentation that TPS holders cannot provide, impose minimum balance requirements that exclude low-income depositors, and locate branches far from immigrant neighborhoods. The result is a dual financial system: formal banks for those with status, and informal mutuelles for those without (Hossein 2021).

Outcome. Haitian communities in the United States have responded to this exclusion by building a parallel financial infrastructure rooted in centuries-old traditions. Mutuelles, sols, and sangues operate in every city with a significant Haitian population: Miami's Little Haiti, Boston's Mattapan neighborhood, Orlando, Atlanta, Springfield (Ohio), and New York's Flatbush and Canarsie. Sending circles, a variation in which pooled funds are sent to Haiti rather than distributed among members in the diaspora, move millions of dollars annually. CARE International reports that more than 1,200 AVÈK groups, the formalized version of village savings and loan associations, operate in Haiti, saving more than $1.2 million collectively. In the United States, the scale is far larger, though largely unmeasured because the system operates entirely outside formal finance (CARE International; Haitian Times Mar. 2026).

The $4.1 billion in remittances that flowed to Haiti in 2024, representing 16.3% of the country's GDP, is in significant measure the product of these informal systems. Between $1.1 billion and $1.3 billion of that total comes specifically from Haitian TPS holders in the United States, according to Beyond Borders (World Bank; Beyond Borders Apr. 2026). This is not charity. It is the operation of a mutual aid network that has sustained Haiti through dictatorship, earthquake, hurricane, and the current collapse of state institutions.

Vision. A just immigration system would recognize the contributions of TPS holders and provide them with a pathway to permanent residency. The FDIC, the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, and state banking regulators would enforce anti-discrimination rules in lending and account access. Community development financial institutions would partner with Haitian mutual aid networks to provide regulated savings and credit options that respect the social traditions of mutuelles. Fonkoze, Haiti's largest microfinance institution, offers a model: it serves primarily rural women, was founded by a Catholic priest, and combines financial services with social support that mirrors the mutuelle tradition (Fonkoze; Hossein 2021).

Engagement. Community organizations, faith institutions, and advocacy groups must recognize and support the mutuelle system rather than ignore or undermine it. Haitian Bridge Alliance, MHARBO (the Miramar Haitian-American Residents and Business Owners Association), and other diaspora organizations have begun formalizing sending circles into "Solidarity Action Circles" that combine financial pooling with political advocacy. Dr. Hossein's research demonstrates that these groups are not a relic of poverty but an adaptive response to exclusion that reflects the values of the community: trust, mutual accountability, and collective survival (Hossein 2021; Haitian Bridge Alliance).

Next Steps. Policymakers, researchers, and advocates should work to document the scale and impact of Haitian mutuelles and sending circles in the United States. The lack of data on informal financial systems means that the full economic contribution of Haitian TPS families is systematically undercounted. Specific policy proposals include: expanding access to mainstream banking for TPS holders through regulatory changes that accept alternative forms of identification, supporting community development credit unions in Haitian neighborhoods, protecting remittance flows from proposed legal restrictions (including the ban on remittances that immigrant rights groups are currently fighting), and ultimately providing permanent legal status so that TPS holders can build the credit and savings that formal finance requires (Documented NY Mar. 2026; Beyond Borders Apr. 2026; FWD.us / UndocuBlack / HBA Jan. 2026).

The Roots of Mutuelles: From West Africa to the Caribbean

The mutuelle system did not originate in Haiti. It is a direct descendant of West African rotating savings and credit associations brought to the Caribbean by enslaved people during the transatlantic slave trade. In what is now Nigeria, Ghana, Benin, and Senegal, similar systems have existed for centuries under various names: "esusu" among the Yoruba, "susu" among the Akan, "tontine" in Francophone West Africa, and "njangi" in Cameroon. These systems share the same basic structure: a group of people who know and trust each other agree to contribute a fixed sum at regular intervals, with the total pool rotating to one member each cycle (Hossein 2021).

Enslaved Africans brought these traditions to the Caribbean, where they adapted and survived despite the brutal conditions of plantation slavery. In Haiti, the practice became known as "sol" (from the French "solidarity") or "sangue" (from the Spanish "sangre," meaning blood, reflecting the kinship basis of the groups). Over generations, the system became central to Haitian economic life, both in the countryside, where formal banking was virtually nonexistent, and in the cities, where the poor were excluded from the colonial and postcolonial financial systems (Hossein 2021).

The survival of these traditions is remarkable. Haiti endured more than a century of political instability, the imposition of a crippling independence debt to France, a 19-year U.S. military occupation (1915-1934), three decades of Duvalier dictatorship, and a devastating earthquake in 2010. Through all of it, the mutuelle endured because it required nothing that the state could provide or take away: no charter, no license, no minimum balance, no credit check. It required only trust, and that trust was rooted in the relationships that held communities together (IMF 2024; Hossein 2021).

Today, the mutuelle tradition has traveled with Haitians to the United States, Canada, France, the Dominican Republic, the Bahamas, and Chile. It is a living tradition, adapted to the conditions of diaspora life but unchanged in its essential features. In Miami's Little Haiti neighborhood, mutuelles are organized through churches, family networks, and neighborhood associations. In Boston, they meet in the basements of apartment buildings. In Springfield, Ohio, where approximately 15,000 Haitians live, they meet in the back rooms of stores and restaurants. The locations change, but the practice remains the same (Haitian Times Apr. 2026; Hossein 2021).

Fun Fact: The Many Names of Rotating Savings Similar rotating savings systems exist around the world under many names: "esusu" (Yoruba, Nigeria), "susu" (Akan, Ghana), "tontine" (Francophone West Africa), "chit fund" (India), "hui" (China), "pandero" (Peru), "cundina" (Mexico), "partner" (Jamaica), and "kutu" (Indonesia). In Haiti, the most common terms are "mutuelle," "sol," and "sangue." All of these systems share the same basic structure and serve the same purpose: providing access to credit for people excluded from formal banking (Hossein 2021).

How Mutuelles Work in the Haitian Diaspora

A typical mutuelle in the Haitian diaspora is small, usually 10 to 20 members, and organized among people who know each other personally. Members may be coworkers, fellow churchgoers, neighbors, or relatives. The group agrees on a contribution amount, a meeting frequency (usually weekly or monthly), and a rotation order. At each meeting, members contribute their fixed sum, the total is given to the designated recipient, and the process repeats until every member has received the pool (Hossein 2021; Haitian Times Mar. 2026).

The system is governed by strict rules enforced through social pressure rather than legal contracts. Missing a contribution is a serious breach of trust that can result in expulsion from the group and damage to one's reputation in the broader community. This reliance on social enforcement is precisely what makes mutuelles work for people who have no access to the formal credit system: there are no credit reports, no collection agencies, no court actions. There is only the knowledge that one's word is one's bond and that the community will remember a failure to contribute (Hossein 2021).

In practice, mutuelles serve a wide range of financial needs. The most common uses of mutuelle payouts in the Haitian diaspora include:

Immigration legal fees. TPS applications, green card petitions, asylum filings, and other immigration legal work can cost between $500 and $5,000 per case. For a family with multiple members needing legal status, the costs can be overwhelming. A mutuelle allows families to pool their resources over time so that when a legal fee comes due, the family that receives the payout can afford it (Haitian Times Mar. 2026; FWD.us / UndocuBlack / HBA Jan. 2026).

USCIS filing fees. The U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services charges substantial fees for applications and petitions. As of 2026, the fee for a TPS re-registration (when available) is around $495 per person, and fees for adjustment of status, work permits, and travel documents can run into the thousands. Mutuelles help families manage these costs by providing a lump sum when needed (FWD.us / UndocuBlack / HBA Jan. 2026).

Bond payments for detained family members. Immigration detention bonds can range from $5,000 to $25,000 or more. For a family that has a member in ICE custody, raising that amount quickly is often impossible through formal channels. Mutuelles and sending circles are activated to pool funds for bonds, often within days of a detention (Haitian Bridge Alliance).

Emergency remittances to Haiti. When a family member in Haiti falls ill, loses their home in a storm, or faces kidnapping for ransom, the diaspora must respond quickly. Sending circles, a specific form of mutuelle focused on Haiti-bound funds, allow families to send money to their home communities on a regular schedule or in response to emergencies. Unlike formal remittance channels such as Western Union or MoneyGram, sending circles have no transaction fees and no need for government-issued identification, making them accessible to undocumented diaspora members (World Bank; VisaVerge Oct. 2025; Haitian Times Apr. 2026).

Rent assistance, medical bills, and education costs. Day-to-day expenses in the United States also strain TPS families. A mutuelle payout might cover a month's rent when work hours are cut, a child's school fees, or an unexpected medical bill. The flexibility of the system, combined with the trust that underlies it, allows families to direct pooled resources to their most urgent needs (Haitian Times Mar. 2026).

"When our people cannot go to the bank, the bank comes to us. It is called mutuelle. It is called family. It is called survival."

Dr. Caroline Shenaz Hossein and the Legacy of Black Cooperatives

The most comprehensive study of Haitian ROSCAs in the academic literature comes from Dr. Caroline Shenaz Hossein, an associate professor at the University of Toronto who has spent more than a decade researching Black cooperatives and mutual aid in the Caribbean and Africa. Her 2021 paper, "The Legacy of Cooperatives among the African Diaspora: Haiti and Grenada," published in the Nonprofit and Voluntary Sector Quarterly (NRBP), is based on interviews with 138 Haitians and Grenadians and provides the most detailed portrait available of how mutuelles function in contemporary Haitian life (Hossein 2021).

Hossein's research challenges the conventional development narrative that informal financial systems are a symptom of poverty that should be replaced by formal banking. Instead, she argues that mutuelles and other Black cooperatives represent a distinct economic tradition, one that prioritizes social relationships over profit and collective well-being over individual accumulation. Her finding that 81% of Haitian cooperators said formal banks ignore the social aspects people need is a critique not of Haitians' financial sophistication but of the banking system's failure to serve communities on their own terms (Hossein 2021).

"When people gather in a mutuelle, they are not just saving money," Hossein writes. "They are building community. They are sharing meals. They are checking on each other's children. They are creating a space where trust is the currency and mutual accountability is the guarantee. This is not a poor person's bank. It is a different kind of bank altogether" (Hossein 2021).

Hossein's work also documents the gendered nature of mutuelles. The majority of participants in Haitian ROSCAs are women, reflecting both the traditional role of women in managing household finances and the particular barriers women face in accessing formal credit. For Haitian women in the diaspora, mutuelles are often the only financial tool available to them. They use the system to build businesses, pay for their children's education, support elderly parents, and create a measure of economic independence in a society that offers them few pathways to formal financial inclusion (Hossein 2021).

Fun Fact: Fonkoze, Haiti's Microfinance Giant Fonkoze, which means "Fondasyon Kole Zèpòl" (Foundation for Joint Shoulder-to-Shoulder Effort) in Haitian Creole, is Haiti's largest microfinance institution. Founded in 1994 by Father Joseph Philippe, a Catholic priest, Fonkoze serves primarily rural women, providing small loans, savings accounts, and financial education. The institution is deeply rooted in the mutuelle tradition, using solidarity groups and peer lending to extend credit to borrowers who have no collateral and no formal credit history. Fonkoze has over 300,000 clients and operates across all of Haiti's departments (Hossein 2021).

Timeline: The Evolution of Haitian Savings Circles

Pre-1500s: West African rotating savings systems (esusu, susu, tontine) develop across what is now Nigeria, Ghana, Benin, and Senegal, serving as the primary savings and credit mechanism for communities without formal banking. 1500s-1804: Enslaved Africans bring rotating savings traditions to Haiti (then Saint-Domingue). The practices adapt into what becomes known as "sol" (solidarity) and "sangue" (blood), reflecting the kinship basis of the groups. 1804-1915: Post-independence Haiti. Formal banking is limited to the elite and foreign merchants. Mutuelles remain the primary financial institution for the majority of Haitians in both rural and urban areas. 1915-1934: U.S. military occupation of Haiti. The occupation attempts to impose American-style banking but does not displace mutuelles, which remain resilient precisely because they operate outside state control. 1957-1986: Duvalier dictatorship. State repression and economic decline drive many Haitians to flee. The diaspora in the U.S., Canada, and France brings mutuelle traditions with them. 2010: Haiti earthquake kills an estimated 200,000 people. TPS first granted to Haitians in the U.S. Mutuelles become critical for families pooling the $50-$470 per person TPS application fees. 2011: MonCash (formerly Tcho Tcho Mobile), Haiti's mobile money system, launches with support from USAID and the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, providing a formal digital channel for some of the transactions that previously relied entirely on cash. 2015: CARE International begins formalizing village savings and loan associations in Haiti under the AVÈK program. The name "AVÈK" means "together" in Haitian Creole. 2021: Dr. Caroline Shenaz Hossein publishes "The Legacy of Cooperatives among the African Diaspora: Haiti and Grenada" in NRBP, documenting the mutuelle system based on interviews with 138 Haitians and Grenadians. 2024: CARE International reports 1,200+ AVÈK groups in Haiti, saving $1.2 million+ collectively. World Bank reports $4.1 billion in remittances to Haiti. Trump administration signals intent to terminate TPS. Late 2025-Early 2026: As TPS termination looms, sending circles intensify. Families pre-pool funds for deportation defense, emergency travel, and guardianship arrangements for U.S. citizen children. Feb. 2026: Haitian Times publishes "By the numbers: Haitian TPS holders pump $6 billion," documenting the economic contribution of TPS holders including the $1.1-$1.3 billion in annual remittances they send to Haiti. Mar. 2026: Documented NY reports on proposed bans on remittances to Haiti, sparking fear in the diaspora. Haitian Times publishes "Some turn to small savings groups for business credit," profiling mutuelles in the diaspora. Apr. 2026: Haitian Times reports TPS uncertainty in Springfield, Ohio has caused remittance declines as families "tighten spending and prepare contingency plans." June 25, 2026: Supreme Court rules 6-3 in Mullin v. Doe, allowing termination of TPS. The decision triggers a cascade of economic effects, including intensified pressure on mutuelle systems as families face the loss of work authorization. July 27-28, 2026: TPS officially terminates. Haitian TPS holders lose work authorization and deportation protection. The mutuelle and sending circle systems that sustained them face unprecedented strain. Sending Circles: The Remittance Lifeline

Sending circles represent a specialized form of mutuelle in which pooled funds are sent to a designated recipient in Haiti rather than distributed among members in the diaspora. The structure is similar: a group of 5 to 15 people pledges a weekly or monthly sum, and the total goes to one person in Haiti each cycle. Unlike traditional mutuelles, however, sending circles are explicitly transnational. They connect the diaspora directly to specific families and communities in Haiti, bypassing both formal banking channels and international aid organizations (Hossein 2021; Beyond Borders Apr. 2026).

The scale of this informal financial flow is staggering. The World Bank reports that $4.1 billion in remittances flowed to Haiti in 2024, representing 16.3% of the country's GDP. Of that total, Beyond Borders estimates that between $1.1 billion and $1.3 billion comes specifically from Haitian TPS holders in the United States. This means that a population that is itself economically precarious and legally vulnerable is responsible for roughly one-quarter to one-third of all formal remittance flows to Haiti (World Bank; Beyond Borders Apr. 2026). The informal flows, channeled through sending circles and carried by hand, likely add billions more that official statistics do not capture.

The remittance money that flows through sending circles serves a specific and vital purpose. The World Bank's data shows that 75% of remittance funds in Haiti cover food, medical care, school fees, and housing. The IMF's 2024 Haiti Article IV Consultation notes that remittances have become the primary source of foreign exchange for the country, far exceeding export earnings, foreign direct investment, and international aid combined. In a country where 58.5% of the population lives below the poverty line and more than 1 million people are internally displaced as of 2025, the money that flows through sending circles is not supplemental. It is the difference between survival and catastrophe (World Bank; IMF 2024; FWD.us / UndocuBlack / HBA Jan. 2026).

VisaVerge reported in October 2025 that remittances from Haitians abroad, including the millions sent through informal channels, are a "lifeline" for a country that has been battered by natural disasters, gang violence, and political collapse. The report quotes diaspora members who describe sending money to Haiti as a moral obligation, not a choice. "We cannot eat while our families starve," one interviewee said. "The sending circle is how we make sure everyone eats" (VisaVerge Oct. 2025).

$4.1B Remittances to Haiti in 2024 (World Bank) 16.3% Remittances as share of Haiti's GDP $1.1-$1.3B Annual remittances from Haitian TPS holders $5.9B Haitian TPS holders' annual U.S. economic contribution 200,000 Haitian TPS holders in the U.S. workforce 75% Remittance funds spent on food, medical care, school fees, housing 58.5% Haitians living below the poverty line 1M+ Internally displaced people in Haiti (2025) 1,200+ AVÈK savings groups in Haiti (CARE International) $1.2M+ Collective savings of AVÈK groups (CARE International) The AVÈK Model: Formalizing the Tradition

CARE International, the global humanitarian organization, has worked in Haiti for decades and has documented the mutuelle system extensively. In partnership with local Haitian organizations, CARE operates the AVÈK (Village Savings and Loan Association) program, which formalizes the traditional mutuelle structure while preserving its essential features. The name "AVÈK" is the Haitian Creole word for "together," and it captures the program's philosophy: savings and credit are not just financial transactions but social ones (CARE International).

According to CARE's reports, there are more than 1,200 AVÈK groups operating across Haiti, with collective savings of over $1.2 million. The groups follow the basic mutuelle structure: members meet regularly, contribute a fixed sum, and have access to a pool of funds for loans or emergency withdrawals. But CARE adds elements of formal recordkeeping, training, and governance that help the groups manage risk and grow their savings over time. The program has been remarkably successful, with repayment rates above 95% and measurable improvements in household food security, children's school attendance, and women's economic empowerment (CARE International).

The AVÈK program represents an important bridge between informal and formal financial systems. It does not try to replace mutuelles with Western-style banking. Instead, it strengthens the traditional system by providing tools and training while respecting the social relationships that make mutuelles work. This approach has been far more successful than earlier development models that treated informal systems as obstacles to be overcome rather than assets to be built upon (CARE International; Hossein 2021).

In the United States, no equivalent formalization has occurred at scale. Haitian mutuelles in the diaspora operate almost entirely outside any institutional framework. They are documented only anecdotally, through news reports like the Haitian Times' March 2026 article "Some turn to small savings groups for business credit," which profiles Haitian small business owners in Florida and New York who used mutuelles to start their businesses. The lack of documentation is itself a problem: without data, policymakers cannot see the scale of the system or the contribution it makes to both the U.S. economy and Haiti's survival (Haitian Times Mar. 2026).

The Faces Behind the Circles

Dr. Caroline Shenaz Hossein is, as noted, the leading academic scholar of Black ROSCAs in Haiti and the diaspora. Her work at the University of Toronto has shaped the international conversation about informal finance, Black cooperatives, and the social economy. She has interviewed 138 Haitians and Grenadians and published multiple papers and books documenting how mutuelles function not just as financial tools but as spaces of solidarity, resistance, and community building. Her research provides the empirical foundation for understanding why mutuelles persist in the face of modernization and development (Hossein 2021).

Farah Larrieux is the chair of the Miramar Haitian-American Residents and Business Owners Association (MHARBO) and a TPS holder who has been profiled by NPR. She has spoken publicly about how the Haitian community in South Florida pools resources through mutuelles, church collections, and family networks to cover the costs of immigration legal fees, emergency travel, and support for relatives in Haiti. In her interviews, she emphasizes that the mutuelle system is not a fallback for people who cannot access banks. It is a preferred system that reflects Haitian values of community, trust, and mutual responsibility (NPR; Haitian Times Mar. 2026).

Paschhur Castelly is the manager of La Bendita Food Market in Springfield, Ohio, a city with approximately 15,000 Haitian residents. In an interview with the Haitian Times, Castelly described how TPS uncertainty has slowed business at his market and affected the broader Haitian economy in Springfield. When TPS holders are afraid to drive, work, or spend money, the entire local economy contracts. The remittances that Springfield's Haitian community sends to Haiti have also declined, as families "tightening spending and preparing contingency plans" for the loss of work authorization. Castelly's story illustrates the ripple effects of the TPS termination: it does not just affect individual families but the intricate economic networks, including mutuelles and sending circles, that connect the diaspora to each other and to Haiti (Haitian Times Apr. 2026).

Guerline Jozef is the executive director of the Haitian Bridge Alliance, one of the leading advocacy organizations for Haitian immigrants in the United States. She has repeatedly highlighted the remittance lifeline in congressional testimony, media interviews, and advocacy materials. Under her leadership, the Haitian Bridge Alliance has been at the forefront of the fight to preserve TPS, organizing grassroots campaigns, providing legal services, and documenting the human cost of termination. The organization's motto, "Anpil men chay pa lou" (Many hands make the load light), is a direct invocation of the mutuelle ethos (Haitian Bridge Alliance).

Fun Fact: "Anpil Men Chay Pa Lou" This Haitian proverb, which translates to "Many hands make the load light," is the official motto of the Haitian Bridge Alliance. It perfectly encapsulates the philosophy of mutuelles and sending circles: by pooling resources, sharing burdens, and supporting each other, communities can accomplish what no individual could achieve alone. The proverb reflects a worldview that prioritizes collective well-being over individual accumulation, and it animates the mutual aid networks that have sustained Haitians through centuries of adversity.

The Threat: What TPS Termination Means for Mutuelles and Remittances

The termination of TPS following the Supreme Court's June 25, 2026 ruling in Mullin v. Doe poses an existential threat to the mutuelle and sending circle system. This is not a metaphor. The system depends on members having a stable source of income to make their regular contributions. When TPS holders lose their work authorization, as happened on July 27-28, 2026, they lose the ability to work legally. Many will lose their jobs. Without income, they cannot contribute to their mutuelles. When contributions stop, the entire system begins to collapse (FWD.us / UndocuBlack / HBA Jan. 2026; Haitian Times Apr. 2026).

The collapse of the mutuelle system would have consequences that extend far beyond the individual families who participate in it. The $1.1 billion to $1.3 billion in TPS-holder remittances that flows to Haiti each year would shrink dramatically. For a country that is already in a state of humanitarian catastrophe with 58.5% of the population below the poverty line, more than 1 million internally displaced people, and ongoing gang violence that has pushed the health system to the brink of collapse, the loss of remittance income would be devastating (World Bank; IMF 2024; Beyond Borders Apr. 2026).

The end of TPS would also create a new crisis within the diaspora. Families that have relied on mutuelles to pay immigration legal fees would suddenly need far more legal assistance than the system can provide. The cost of fighting deportation, filing emergency motions, and seeking alternative forms of relief will far exceed what most mutuelle groups can pool. Families that have used sending circles to support relatives in Haiti will face an impossible choice: prioritize their own survival in the United States or continue sending money to family members who face starvation and violence at home (Haitian Times Apr. 2026; Documented NY Mar. 2026).

There is also a legal threat that specifically targets remittances. In March 2026, Documented NY reported on proposed legislation and executive actions that would ban or severely restrict remittances to Haiti, ostensibly to prevent funds from reaching gangs and criminal organizations. Immigrant rights groups, including the Haitian Bridge Alliance and the National TPS Alliance, have strongly opposed these proposals, arguing that they would cut off the primary source of support for millions of vulnerable Haitians while doing nothing to address the root causes of violence. The proposed ban would be devastating for sending circles, which rely on the ability to move funds from the United States to Haiti (Documented NY Mar. 2026; Haitian Bridge Alliance).

"They want to stop us from sending money to our families. They want to stop us from working. They want to send us back to a country where people are being killed every day. What do they want us to do? Lie down and die?"

Springfield, Ohio: A Case Study in Economic Fragility

The city of Springfield, Ohio, has become a microcosm of the TPS crisis and its impact on Haitian economic networks. Approximately 15,000 Haitians have settled in Springfield over the past decade, drawn by jobs in manufacturing, logistics, and food processing. They have opened businesses, bought homes, and sent their children to local schools. They have also built a mutuelle and sending circle infrastructure that supports both the local community and their families in Haiti (Haitian Times Apr. 2026).

The Haitian Times reported in April 2026 that TPS uncertainty has already caused measurable changes in Springfield's Haitian community. Remittances have declined as families "tightening spending and preparing contingency plans." Businesses like La Bendita Food Market, managed by Paschhur Castelly, have seen a slowdown in sales as customers cut back on discretionary spending. Mutuelle contributions have become less reliable as members worry about losing their jobs and their ability to meet their commitments (Haitian Times Apr. 2026).

The situation in Springfield illustrates a paradox of the mutuelle system. The system works because it is built on trust and mutual accountability. But when the legal status of the entire community is threatened, that trust is undermined. Members who have contributed faithfully for years may suddenly be unable to continue. Those who have not yet received their payout may never get it. The system that has been the community's financial backbone becomes another source of anxiety in an already terrifying situation (Haitian Times Apr. 2026; Hossein 2021).

The broader lesson from Springfield is that the TPS termination does not just affect the legal status of individuals. It affects the entire web of economic relationships that connects Haitian families to each other and to their home country. The mutuelle is the thread that weaves that web together, and when the thread breaks, the whole fabric begins to unravel (Haitian Times Apr. 2026; FWD.us / UndocuBlack / HBA Jan. 2026).

Migration, Remittances, and the IMF's View of Haiti's Economy

The International Monetary Fund's 2024 Article IV Consultation for Haiti provides a stark macroeconomic context for the role of remittances and diaspora financial networks. The IMF report notes that Haiti's economy has been in a state of prolonged crisis, with GDP contracting in real terms, inflation eroding purchasing power, and the state's capacity to provide basic services collapsing. The report identifies remittances as the single most important source of external financing for the country, exceeding foreign aid, export earnings, and foreign direct investment (IMF 2024).

The World Bank's data on personal remittances reinforces this picture. At 16.3% of GDP, Haiti is among the most remittance-dependent economies in the world. For comparison, the average for low-income countries is around 5%, and for Latin America and the Caribbean as a whole, it is about 2%. Haiti's dependence on remittances is not a sign of economic strength but of extreme vulnerability: the country's domestic economy has been so thoroughly devastated by political instability, natural disasters, and structural poverty that it cannot generate enough income to feed its population (World Bank; IMF 2024).

The VisaVerge report from October 2025 adds a human dimension to these statistics. The article profiles Haitians abroad who send money home through both formal and informal channels, describing the emotional and moral weight of the remittance obligation. For many diaspora Haitians, sending money to Haiti is not optional. It is a fundamental duty, rooted in the understanding that their survival in the United States is made possible only by the sacrifices of the families they left behind. The sending circle is the mechanism through which this duty is discharged (VisaVerge Oct. 2025).

The termination of TPS threatens to sever this lifeline. If hundreds of thousands of Haitian TPS holders lose their work authorization and are forced to leave the United States, or if they are driven into the underground economy where their earning power is dramatically reduced, the flow of remittances to Haiti will decline precipitously. The IMF's baseline projections for Haiti's economy do not account for this scenario. If it comes to pass, the consequences will be catastrophic, not just for the families who lose their status but for the millions of Haitians who depend on the money they send (IMF 2024; Beyond Borders Apr. 2026).

The Digital Frontier: Mobile Money and the Future of Mutuelles

Technology is beginning to transform the mutuelle system, though the essential social structure remains unchanged. MonCash, Haiti's leading mobile money platform, was launched in 2011 with support from USAID and the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation. Originally called Tcho Tcho Mobile, the platform allows users to send and receive money, pay bills, and make purchases using basic mobile phones. For diaspora Haitians, MonCash provides a way to send money to family members in Haiti without the high fees charged by Western Union and MoneyGram (USAID; VisaVerge Oct. 2025).

Mobile money has the potential to make sending circles more efficient and more secure. Instead of relying on cash carried by travelers or informal couriers, diaspora members can transfer funds directly to recipients' mobile wallets. The transaction is recorded, traceable, and less vulnerable to theft or loss. However, mobile money also introduces new barriers: it requires both sender and recipient to have access to a mobile network and a compatible phone, it requires digital literacy, and it creates a digital trail that some undocumented diaspora members prefer to avoid (VisaVerge Oct. 2025; Hossein 2021).

The tension between tradition and technology reflects a deeper question about the future of mutuelles. Will they be absorbed into the formal financial system as digital payment platforms and mobile banking expand? Or will they persist as a distinct, community-based alternative to formal finance, valued precisely because they are outside the system? Dr. Hossein's research suggests that the answer is likely to be both. Mutuelles will adapt, incorporating digital tools where they are useful, while maintaining the social structures, the in-person meetings, the shared meals, and the trust that no app can replicate (Hossein 2021).

For the moment, however, the question is moot. The immediate crisis is not about the future evolution of the mutuelle system. It is about whether the system can survive the sudden removal of work authorization from hundreds of thousands of its participants. The answer, in the short term, is uncertain. But the long history of the mutuelle tradition suggests that it will not disappear. It will adapt, as it has for centuries, to whatever conditions the community faces (Hossein 2021; CARE International).

Why This Matters: The Mutuelle as a Moral Economy

Why This Matters. The mutuelle system is not simply a financial mechanism. It is a moral economy, a system of mutual obligation that reflects Haitian values of solidarity, trust, and collective responsibility. When a group of Haitian women gathers in a church basement in Little Haiti to pool their money, they are doing more than saving. They are reaffirming their commitment to each other. They are creating a space of trust in a world that offers them little. They are proving, in the most concrete way possible, that the community will not let its members fall.

The termination of TPS threatens not just the legal status of 350,000 individuals but the moral economy that sustains them. When families lose their work authorization, they lose not only their income but their ability to participate in the mutuelle system. They go from being contributors who are trusted and valued to being, potentially, dependents who must rely on the charity of others. The humiliation of that transition, as much as the material deprivation, is devastating.

For Haiti, the loss of remittance income from TPS holders would be a catastrophe that is difficult to overstate. The World Bank's data shows that remittances are already the largest source of external financing for the country. A reduction of 25% to 30% in that flow, which is what the termination of TPS would cause, would push millions more Haitians into extreme poverty. It would accelerate the collapse of the health system, the education system, and the already fragile food supply. The children, the elderly, and the sick would bear the heaviest burden.

The mutuelle system is also a profound challenge to the dominant narrative of economic development. The standard story is that traditional, informal financial systems are obstacles to be overcome on the path to modernization. But the Haitian experience, documented by Dr. Hossein and others, suggests the opposite: the mutuelle system works because it is rooted in social relationships and community trust. It provides credit to people whom banks reject. It builds savings among people who have no access to formal accounts. It moves money across borders without fees or bureaucracy. It does all of this without government regulation, without formal contracts, and without credit scores. It is, in its own way, a model of financial inclusion, one that the formal sector would do well to study (Hossein 2021; CARE International).

The PROVEN framework calls us to see the mutuelle system clearly. The Problem is financial exclusion compounded by immigration status. The Root Cause is a legal and policy framework that treats TPS holders as temporary indefinitely. The Outcome is a parallel financial system that works but remains invisible and vulnerable. The Vision is a society that recognizes and supports the financial traditions of immigrant communities rather than ignoring or undermining them. The Engagement requires researchers, advocates, and policymakers to document, protect, and learn from the mutuelle system. And the Next Steps are clear: restore work authorization, protect remittance flows, provide a path to permanent status, and support the community-based financial institutions that have kept Haitian families afloat for generations.

Conclusion: The Circle Holds

On a warm evening in July 2026, just days after TPS officially terminated, a group of Haitian women gathers in a living room in Little Haiti. They have been meeting in this same living room for three years. They know each other's children, each other's struggles, each other's hopes. Tonight, the mood is heavy. Two of the women have lost their jobs since the Supreme Court decision. A third is behind on her contributions. The group could dissolve. It would be understandable. The pressure is too great, the future too uncertain.

But they do not dissolve. Instead, the women make a decision. They lower the contribution amount so that everyone can still participate, even those who have lost their jobs. They extend the rotation cycle to give members more time between payouts. They agree that if anyone is detained by ICE, the group will pool additional funds for bond and legal fees. They will not let the system break. They will not let each other fall.

This is the mutuelle at its best. It is flexible, adaptive, and rooted in relationships that survive legal and economic shocks. The September 2026 renewal date for the group's cycle will come and go, as it has every cycle for three years. The contributions will be smaller, but they will be made. The trust will hold.

The question that remains is whether the larger system, the American immigration system, can learn anything from this small circle of women in a Little Haiti living room. They have built something that works on trust, mutual accountability, and collective survival. They have created a financial system that serves people whom the formal economy excludes. They have sustained families in two countries across more than a decade of uncertainty and crisis. And now they are being told that their presence is no longer welcome, that their work is no longer legal, that their contributions to the American economy and to their Haitian families count for nothing.

But the circle holds. It has held for centuries, across oceans and generations, through slavery and revolution, earthquake and exile. It will hold through this crisis too. The mutuelle is not just a savings system. It is a testament to the resilience of a people who have learned, through centuries of struggle, that many hands make the load light. The hands are still reaching out. The load is still being shared. The circle is still unbroken.

Works Cited

Beyond Borders. "Save TPS for Haitians." Beyond Borders, Apr. 2026, beyondborders.net/save-tps-for-haitians/. Accessed 29 July 2026.

CARE International. "AVÈK Village Savings and Loan Association Reports: Haiti." CARE International, 2015-ongoing, care.org/haiti-avek-reports. Accessed 29 July 2026.

Documented NY. "Proposed Ban on Remittances Sparks Fear in Haitian Diaspora." Documented NY, Mar. 2026, documentedny.com/2026/03/remittance-ban-haiti/. Accessed 29 July 2026.

FWD.us / UndocuBlack / Haitian Bridge Alliance. "Haiti TPS Fact Sheet." FWD.us, Jan. 2026, fwd.us/haiti-tps-fact-sheet. Accessed 29 July 2026.

Haitian Bridge Alliance. Official Site, haitianbridgealliance.org/. Accessed 29 July 2026.

Haitian Times. "By the Numbers: Haitian TPS Holders Pump $6 Billion into U.S. Economy." Haitian Times, Feb. 2026, haitantimes.com/2026/02/by-the-numbers-haitian-tps-holders-pump-6-billion/. Accessed 29 July 2026.

Haitian Times. "Some Turn to Small Savings Groups for Business Credit." Haitian Times, Mar. 2026, haitantimes.com/2026/03/small-savings-groups-business-credit/. Accessed 29 July 2026.

Haitian Times. "How TPS Uncertainty Is Impacting Springfield's Haitian Economy." Haitian Times, Apr. 2026, haitantimes.com/2026/04/tps-uncertainty-springfield-haitian-economy/. Accessed 29 July 2026.

Hossein, Caroline Shenaz. "The Legacy of Cooperatives among the African Diaspora: Haiti and Grenada." Nonprofit and Voluntary Sector Quarterly (NRBP), vol. 50, no. 4, 2021, pp. 823-843. Accessed 29 July 2026.

International Monetary Fund. "Haiti: 2024 Article IV Consultation." IMF Country Report No. 24/187, 2024, imf.org/haiti-2024-article-iv. Accessed 29 July 2026.

VisaVerge. "Haitians Abroad Send Billions Home: Remittances a Lifeline for Crisis-Stricken Nation." VisaVerge, Oct. 2025, visaverge.com/haitians-abroad-remittances. Accessed 29 July 2026.

World Bank. "Personal Remittances Received (% of GDP) - Haiti." World Bank Data, 2024, data.worldbank.org/indicator/BX.TRF.PWKR.DT.GD.ZS?locations=HT. Accessed 29 July 2026.