A phenomenon has erupted in Cuba that many adults do not understand. University students, teenagers, and young professionals have taken to protesting in classrooms, on social media (while they can), in faculty hallways, and even in the neighborhood park to clearly demand: the ETECSA rate hike is unacceptable.
There are many people who do not understand the reason behind this sudden protest that is generational. Many say: “And why aren't they protesting about hunger? Or about the blackouts? Or about repression? Why are they mobilizing now, only for the Internet?”
The answer is simple, yet at the same time devastating: because they have taken everything from them.
To my teenage children, the worst punishment of their lives is taking away the Internet. There is nothing worse for them than being disconnected. It is the ultimate weapon we use to get them to clean their rooms, pick up, do their homework, or go to bed without protesting. And we only take it away for a few hours. Telling them that I will disconnect them for several days is like announcing they are going to hell... or to Cuba, which would be pretty much the same. Their lives are organized, more or less, in an increasingly virtual environment; depriving them of it is like leaving them without air. Students, young people, and generally all Cubans are beginning to experience the same thing.
Those born in Cuba between 2000 and 2010, the current university students, grew up in a world where internet connectivity gradually became the only window to the real world. Starting in 2018, with the rollout of mobile internet in Cuba, these young people began to shape their identity, their connections, their dreams, their doubts, and their political opinions through a mobile data connection that, when luck permitted, reached their low-end phones.
Today, the Internet in Cuba is not just entertainment. It is an escape, it is a release, it is resistance, it is education, it is a refuge.
Today, the Internet in Cuba is not just entertainment. It is an escape, it is a relief, it is resistance, it is education, it is a refuge. It is also the classroom, the street, distant family, access to books, memes, causes, unfiltered news, and professions that are not included in state plans. And above all, it is freedom. Even if it is limited. Even if it is monitored. Even if it arrives in drips.
What is the real outcome of ETECSA's rate hike? The sudden death of the digital environment where many young people had built their lives.
Adults who grew up in a world without social media, without Google, without YouTube, without online classes, and without collaborative platforms do not understand that for this generation, access to the Internet is not a privilege, nor is it just another thing: it is a vital necessity. Today's disconnected individual is not only uninformed; they are deactivated. They cannot express opinions, engage in debates, create, or even know if what they feel is normal.
The vast majority of young people worldwide believe that access to the Internet is a fundamental right. For them, cutting off the Internet is no different from closing a school, shutting down a library, or prohibiting leaving home. Why would it be different for Cubans?
Teenagers believe that social networks are essential for maintaining their personal relationships. Digitally integrated young people rely on platforms like WhatsApp, Instagram, TikTok, or Telegram for their social life. Cutting off that access can lead to anxiety, sadness, frustration, and a sense of exclusion.
To avoid discussing the economy and the emerging digital businesses and creators that have arisen in Cuba. A report from the World Bank (2021) highlights that the digital economy is the fastest path to youth social mobility in resource-limited countries. Many young Cubans use the Internet to work as freelancers, sell products, learn trades, search for scholarships, jobs, or monetize content.
Global evidence indicates that cutting off access to the Internet not only isolates but also impoverishes young people physically, emotionally, and mentally.
It is no coincidence that it is precisely this generation—university-educated, urban, connected, and critical—that is reacting with the most intensity. They already understand that there is no educational reform without connectivity, no inclusion without access, and no citizenship without a digital voice. They are not fighting for Internet access just to watch videos (though they do that as well). They are fighting because the Internet is their only means of existing with dignity in a country that offers them less and less.
In every young person who raises their voice, there is a story of dreams that have migrated, of stalled careers, of friendships shattered by distance, of anxiety, of contained rage, of nights without light, of scarce food. And also, of connection as the only lifeline.
Cuban youth also protest for hunger, for the lack of electricity, for blackouts, for the lack of opportunities, for repression. But they do so with the language they know: that of social media. If they organize, it's through Facebook. If they find inspiration, it's from TikTok. If they gather evidence, they share it via WhatsApp. If they report, they do it on X (formerly Twitter).
Taking away their internet is also taking away their means to protest about everything else.
Filed under:
Opinion article: Las declaraciones y opiniones expresadas en este artículo son de exclusiva responsabilidad de su autor y no representan necesariamente el punto de vista de CiberCuba.
