The harshness of daily life in Cuba has once again been highlighted in a video shared by Instagram user Annie Zúñiga González, a mother of two young children. She described, with a blend of exhaustion, frustration, and even humor, how she navigates through endless blackouts, fuel shortages, spoiled food, and a crisis that shows no signs of easing.
"The reality is much crueler," he wrote while presenting the video.
"The cries of my children, being unable to cook because there is no gas, not being able to sleep praying for a breeze… In the last 48 hours, we have had, not continuously, around eight hours of electricity, and none of it has been at night," she emphasized.
The images show Annie and another young woman trapped in the same routine of precariousness that has become the norm for millions of Cubans today.
Annie begins the video with a phrase that captures, without embellishment, the emotional state of an exhausted country: "You cannot dream in a country where you cannot sleep."
And he adds that each morning upon waking, his first thought is always the same: "Which block is it today?", referring to the scheduled blackouts, which are practically impossible to predict.
The blackout as the centerpiece of life
The recording explores everyday situations that reveal the depth of national decline.
A young woman's friend is attempting to connect to the Internet without success: the terrible connectivity, which is becoming increasingly common, prevents her from communicating with her family.
Seconds later, the camera captures another domestic drama: they can't wash because there is no electricity, despite the fact that, for the first time in days, "water came in."
The supposed alternative for a few - private power plants - also doesn't solve the issue: they couldn't get it running due to the high price of gasoline.
The refrigerator is another victim. When she opens it, Annie resigns with a sigh: "The chicken spoiled," a phrase that reflects the constant loss of food due to the ongoing power outages.
Even the rechargeable fans have not provided the relief that many expected. The young woman explains that they are insufficient for the full hours of blackout, as there isn't enough time for them to charge.
The video ends with a moment that blends humor and repressed anger: the electricity comes back for a few seconds, and Annie joyfully celebrates. Right after, the light goes out again. "Why did you even say anything?" her friend scolds her, throwing a cushion at her.
It is a scene that is repeated in millions of Cuban households, a kind of involuntary humor that arises when the exhaustion is too great to continue crying.
A national portrait in the comments
The video has garnered over 44,000 likes in just a few days, with reactions that reflect immediate identification and a shared pain.
"A summary of life in Cuba in less than a minute," "I don't know whether to laugh or cry; what we're living through is like a horror movie," and "Sleeping is a right we no longer have," were some of the comments.
A mother recounted that her children ask her what time the power goes out so they can know if they can watch cartoons. "Every day they eat in the dark, bathe in the dark, and fall asleep during a blackout."
"My two-year-old knows when there's a blackout and screams with joy when the power comes back on," said the video's main character.
Another user highlighted the accumulated psychological damage: "Neither sleeping nor living, physical and mental torture, the cortisol levels of Cubans are through the roof, which makes us more prone to more diseases."
A crisis that worsens while the government remains silent
Annie Zuñiga's testimony is not an isolated case: it is part of an avalanche of complaints growing across the country, where the population faces power outages of more than 20 hours a day, fuel at unaffordable prices, food that spoils before it can be cooked, and a collapse in basic services that particularly affects children, the elderly, and caregiver mothers.
Meanwhile, the authorities continue to provide neither a real solution plan nor a credible timeline, contenting themselves with repeated explanations and promises that daily life contradicts.
Each new blackout, each lost meal, each sleepless night heightens the feeling of abandonment and despair among Cubans.
The video is not just a release of emotions; it is a direct denunciation of a suffocated population and an X-ray of a country where survival has become the only possible routine.
Filed under:
