Cuba's cascading crises push islanders to the edge of endurance
Cuba's overlapping crises—blackouts, water shortages, and economic strain—drive many to despair, with residents finding small respites and leaning on family.
In Cuba, where sweltering nights are broken by power cuts and water shortages, the cumulative weight of daily hardship is fraying the mental resilience of many of the island's nearly 10 million people. With fuel scarce, homes crumbling, and public transport unreliable, residents describe a loss of hope that once sustained them.
Dr. Yomeidis Felicó Riverón, a primary care physician, has become an informal counselor for patients who arrive in tears, having no one else to confide in. "They come and cry about their troubles," she said, noting that she often has to play psychologist. She shields her own son from the worst of their struggles, distracting him with trips to the park when money is tight.
At a recent workshop in Havana, children made gift bags and perfume while parents sought a brief escape from the heat and worry. Dianne Tamayo, a mother at the event, described her husband as her anchor, reminding her to breathe and to keep their anxieties from their daughter. Yet she admitted to moments of overwhelming despair, saying, "They are exterminating us, and we remain complacent."
The crises have deepened since the U.S. announced tariffs on countries providing oil to Cuba, adding to long-standing sanctions. Cuban officials claim the economic impact has exceeded $8 billion in the past year. Island-wide blackouts now often last more than a day, leaving water systems without power and prompting sporadic protests. The U.S. Embassy has issued health alerts about water infrastructure and a rise in gastrointestinal illnesses linked to degraded systems.
Still, many Cubans find ways to endure. Oscar Joaquín López, 81, refuses to dwell on what he lacks, sitting by his doorframe to catch ocean breezes and relying on a wooden slat in his window for airflow. Nearby, a mason scavenged garbage to feed his pig, while a flower seller pushed his cart through Old Havana, hoping for a sale. "Everybody is fighting to survive here," he said.
For others, family is the anchor. A retired aviation official cares for his 93-year-old mother, and a 90-year-old man sings and dances at a weekly gathering for the elderly to "forget for a little while the suffering." He credits the resilience of Cubans to the spirit of their revolution, vowing, "We are not going to give up."