In the city of Havana, electricity is a fleeting gift. For 72-year-old Leidis Rodríguez, a sudden 20-minute power surge at 3 a.m. means jumping out of bed to cook beans, do laundry, and tackle tasks impossible in the darkness. Her routine reflects the new normal for many Cubans, who now structure their days around unpredictable bursts of light.
Yaimara Matos, Rodríguez's 41-year-old daughter, described the frantic effort required during those brief windows of power. “You want to do everything at the same time — wash clothes, iron, cook,” she said. “What we used to do in 10 hours, we now have to do in two.” Power surges often come in the middle of the night or just long enough to complete a single task before the darkness returns.
Crisis deepens as grid fails and outages grow
Power shortages have plagued Cuba for years, but the situation has worsened since January when the Trump administration imposed tariffs on goods from countries that sell oil to Cuba. These measures, paired with stricter sanctions, were intended to pressure the Cuban government into political reform. Now, entire areas of the island frequently experience outages for days.
Last weekend marked the sixth major power grid collapse of the year, plunging entire neighborhoods into blackouts without warning. In contrast to the past, when scheduled outages lasted two or three hours, Cubans now face a life of uncertainty. Blackouts can last 12, 30 hours, or longer, with no way to predict when the lights might return.
Daily survival adapts to a life without power
To survive, families like the Rodríguez-Matos have adapted with ingenuity. They purchased a small household generator, which they can only use a few hours a day. On some nights, Matos used the generator to pump water and operate a washing machine. Others rely on solar panels sent by relatives abroad. Lianet Barroso, for example, now cooks over a wood fire and fills plastic bottles with water during power surges in preparation for future outages.
Caridad Delgado, 64, used to enjoy watching soap operas at night. Now, during a blackout, she feeds her cat using a rechargeable lamp, powered by money sent by her three children who have left the island. For many Cubans, even basic comforts like television and lighting have become a luxury.
The crisis has also impacted public transportation and cultural events, bringing them to a standstill. Tourism, the country’s key economic sector, has also slowed down, leaving 25,000 hospitality jobs unfilled. Flights to and from the island are often canceled, and workdays have been shortened as businesses struggle to function under the new conditions.
Protests and rising frustration
Following blackouts lasting over 48 hours, residents in several Havana municipalities took to the streets, staging protests by banging pots and burning garbage. These demonstrations highlight the deepening anger and frustration among Cubans. The rising cost of the dollar and inflation have left many unable to afford basic groceries, especially when power outages threaten to spoil the food.
Matos described the situation as one that forces people to “live in two hours, not 24.” The unpredictability of power availability has forced families to rethink their lives, routines, and survival strategies, adapting to a reality where even the most basic tasks are now a race against the clock.
Once a country known for its vibrant culture and resilience, Cuba now faces an uncertain future. As electricity remains sporadic and life becomes increasingly difficult, Cubans continue to find ways to adapt — but the strain is growing, and the light of hope is flickering.

