Cuba is rapidly running out of fuel. For nearly three months, the United States has blocked any significant oil shipments from reaching the island, leaving an already struggling economy in a state of crisis. We asked Cubans how the fuel shortages have upended their lives.
19 Cubans on What It’s Like to Live Without Fuel
In some parts of Cuba, life has simply come to a halt.
The first effective blockade since the Cuban missile crisis is pushing the Caribbean nation toward a humanitarian breaking point. As a result, Cubans are struggling to navigate the most basic aspects of daily life, from commuting to work to receiving medical care.
Even the arrival of a Russian oil tanker this week — the first allowed by the United States since the blockade began — will buy the island only a few weeks before fuel reserves run out, analysts say.
We wanted to know how these changes are affecting life in Cuba. In February, we asked people across the island to tell us.
I go only to nearby places that I can reach on foot.
Lia Rodríguez, 23 communications specialist
We’re living in a country where it’s always Sunday. You go out into the street and practically everything is closed.
Arsenio García, 69 TV producer
If you don’t have access to hard currency — dollars, euros — you are in trouble.
Stock market investor, 56
My salary as a doctor isn’t enough to cover all my basic needs.
Medical resident, 24
Dozens of people replied in Spanish, sharing their struggles as well as the fears and hopes they have for themselves and the country. Readers of all ages reached out, including a student as young as 19 and a handful of retirees who have to work odd jobs to supplement their savings.
Some of them agreed to go on the record; others asked us not to use their full names or any name at all for fear of reprisals by the Cuban government or the United States.
They wrote mostly from Cuba’s capital, Havana, but also from Baracoa, Santiago de Cuba, Pinar del Río and Sancti Spíritus. Many sent in voice notes or texts over WhatsApp when they were able to charge their phones or get signal.
I have two jobs and an age-based pension. I survive, but I don’t have a dignified life.
Retiree, 67
Cubans adapt and learn to live with whatever comes our way, but it’s very difficult.
Gustavo Torres, 25 art critic and historian
I hope this changes, and that, at least financially, people can get by.
Gabriel Sánchez, 24 engineer
There are many things that have gradually become the norm, but they aren’t normal at all.
Yamil Orlando, 30 visual artist
Without power, water stops flowing to homes. Without fuel, farmers cannot harvest crops or transport them to cities.
Hospitals are canceling surgeries and sending patients home because doctors and nurses can’t commute to work. Health care workers say that deteriorating conditions are causing deaths that would otherwise be preventable.
Rotting waste piles up on street corners unless it is burned. Nationwide blackouts have become the norm. Tourism, which has long been crucial to Cuba’s economy, has plummeted.
We the poor have to trade food among ourselves. Some small business owners even accept food as payment now.
Leonardo, 19 student
It’s left me without a job because it paralyzes tourism, which is the sector that I work in.
José Enrique González, 29 tour guide
Since there is no electricity, there are no diagnostic tools, no medical transport and no medicine.
Alfonso de Jesús, 65 retiree
For those still holding on to a job, commuting is a major challenge. Many private cars are parked without fuel. Some bus lines have stopped entirely, forcing Cubans to become long-distance walkers, cyclists and hopeful hitchhikers.
People have to get around by electric tricycle, by bicycle or on foot, because the taxis have become too expensive.
Iván García, 60 journalist
I had to leave the theater where I worked because I can’t afford transportation now that prices have spiraled out of control.
Víctor Manuel, 27 musician
I walk everywhere. On the rare occasions I need transportation, I rely on hitchhiking, waiting for someone to give me a lift.
Claudia Terry, 22 art history graduate
As fuel shortages cripple even the most basic services, people are being driven to creative, desperate and often illegal workarounds just to survive. Skipping one or two meals has become the new normal for people on certain parts of the island.
My wife went without eating some days just so her son could have something to eat.
Stock market investor, 56
The only way to acquire gasoline or diesel is through the black market.
University professor, 26
I take the oil I used for frying, which I previously threw away without a second thought, and strain it through a fine cloth and reuse it several times.
Giraldo Benítez, 65 retired engineer
Some people said they relied on a tenuous support network: family members who send money or medicine from abroad, contacts in the black market or friends whose streets are not prone to blackouts.
They all spoke of using their imagination to stretch limited resources, embodying “creative resilience” — a term coined by the Cuban government for the survival tactics used to endure the U.S. embargo and oil blockade.
To many on the island, however, the phrase feels less like a revolutionary virtue and more like the romanticization of a lifestyle they never chose.
It might mean stealing a liter of oil from your job, a pack of paper or a lightbulb and then selling it on the black market.
Iván García, 60 journalist
As buildings crumble every day, the leaders and their families get richer. They ask us for resilience without any plan for improvement, yet they themselves resist nothing.
A 28-year-old woman
The Cuban government has acknowledged that it is in talks with the Trump administration about a possible deal to end the oil blockade, although Cuban officials have repeatedly denied that regime change is on the table.
U.S. officials are pushing for President Miguel Díaz-Canel of Cuba to step down. But several readers said they had little hope that their conditions would change quickly.
I can’t picture Cuba’s future. If we keep going the way we are now, it’s like being in the presence of a corpse.
Yamil Orlando, 30 visual artist
The guilt of being Cuban — do you know what that’s like? To feel guilty for being born here? I want to leave, see the world, know things other than the four walls of my house.
Víctor Manuel, 27 musician
I am one of the very few young people who doesn’t want to leave the country, but I see how my aspirations are being cut short.
Claudia Terry, 22 art history graduate
My primary aspiration is to find a job again.
Francisco Delgado, 60 former employee of a tourism company
Some expressed deep frustration with the Cuban Revolution, which they see as a failed project that has stripped them of many basic rights. Others blamed the trade embargo and the oil blockade imposed by the U.S. government, which they said have overwhelmingly affected ordinary Cubans while leaving the country’s elites untouched.
One person described feeling stuck in the middle of a clash of egos between two governments that cared very little about the lives of people on the island.
Cuba is a failure, a disgrace of a country because of the dictatorship that has ruled for 67 years. It worries me deeply that we are constantly on the brink of a new crisis, with no interest from the government in resolving absolutely anything.
A 28-year-old woman
Good grief, why doesn’t the United States leave Cuba alone? Leave it alone. Remove all sanctions. Leave Cuba alone.
Roberto Blanco, 82 retiree
Since the fuel restrictions were announced, we Cubans have added only more uncertainty to the destiny of our lives.
Lia Rodríguez, 23, communications specialist
Even as the country’s pulse slows, life in Cuba persists.
There’s still music on some streets. People recounted saving up for transportation or a beer ahead of a birthday outing.
Movie theaters have tried to hold screenings in the early afternoon, provided the electrical grid is working. Some people still try to attend their book club meetings. During blackouts, restless neighbors pull out plastic chairs outside to gossip and breathe a bit easier.
When I feel overwhelmed, my escape has been to go sit on the sea wall when the sun is setting, just before it gets dark.
Lia Rodríguez, 23 communications specialist
To stay relaxed and keep stress at bay, I planted boldo plants. I put two leaves in a small cup, and it makes a wonderful tea.
Giraldo Benítez, 65 retired engineer
If something good happens, we try to see the bright side of it. We laugh a little, and we just keep moving forward.
Gustavo Torres, 25 art critic and historian
