What’s Behind the Cooking Gas Shortage in Cuba?

Extinguished stoves and families on the brink

Cooking with firewood or going hungry seems to be the dilemma for many Cuban families who endure more than 15 hours of power outages daily.

By Yenys Laura Prieto (El Toque)

HAVANA TIMES – They leave early in the morning, testing their luck. They carry the “gas canisters” on their shoulders as if it were a collective punishment, a reminder of what it means to survive in Cuba. The worst part is that the effort may be in vain. Since late 2024, images of endless lines reveal the ordeal of Cubans suffering from the shortage of liquefied gas on the island.

In January 2025, the problem continues. Several provinces halted the sale “until further notice,” due to “low availability.” In Las Tunas, a state source assured: “We have no inventory, we are waiting for the importation of this product.” Authorities from the Cupet company in Villa Clara, Cienfuegos, Camagüey, Isla de la Juventud, Matanzas, and Pinar del Río also announced the suspension of sales to the population.

What happened to the supplies? On January 21, 2025, it was revealed that the liquefied gas ship – which arrived in Santiago de Cuba a week ago – has not yet been unloaded “because the full payment has not been made,” according to a post on the Cupet Camagüey Communication page on Facebook.

In this context, cooking with firewood or going hungry seems to be the dilemma for Cuban families who endure more than 15 hours of power outages daily. For example, a report from the Cuban Institute for Freedom of Expression and the Press reveals an increased presence of improvised stoves in the streets of Artemisa. Survival stories are repeated in other provinces.

Professor Alina Barbara Lopez, a resident of the Armando Mestre neighborhood in Matanzas, reflected on the complexity of the problem: “Right now, those of us who live here have no options to prepare food: neither gas nor electricity. A sack of charcoal costs over 1,500 pesos, and it’s not easily found. Additionally, that price is the monthly pension of a retiree, and if they bought it, they wouldn’t have money left for food.”

The Cuban government has publicly acknowledged the seriousness of the crisis, although its explanations have failed to calm public outrage. In November 2024, it was reported that more than 99,000 customers in Havana, Artemisa, and Mayabeque were left without access to gas. In the rest of the country, about 735,000 users faced the same problem, according to official figures.

In response to each announcement, users’ comments on social media have been similar to that of internet user Jose Luis Marañón, caught between mocking and indignation: “We thank you for the information, and we’ll cook with it. Someone, call for creativity. Cooking with firewood isn’t being creative, it’s living in misery.”

Firewood or Hunger? This is How Cubans Survive the Gas Shortage

The shortage of liquefied gas has led thousands of families to rely on alternative, archaic methods to cook. The use of firewood, once relegated to rural areas, has become a common practice even in urban environments. This not only represents a setback in living conditions but also a health risk due to the emission of smoke and contaminating particles.

In Matanzas, more than 100,000 households have been affected, according to a local report from January 10, 2025. Long lines to acquire gas cylinders, which often last for days, are a daily scene generating desperation. Social media has shown images of people waiting for hours under the sun or in the middle of the night, with no guarantee that there will be enough fuel available.

But not everyone can improvise a firewood stove. Internet user Walberto Loriga Peña says the situation is desperate for those living in apartment buildings because “they have it much worse” and may suffer asphyxiation.

User Arnoldo Aleman also asks: “How does the family in Las Tunas cook? There’s no kerosene, and the price of charcoal is like gold. Firewood is as rare as milk for children. Now they tell us we must cook with our own efforts, applying creative resistance.”

In January 2025, the state-owned company Union Cuba Petróleo (CUPET), responsible for the national distribution of liquefied gas (LPG), announced the extension of the gas purchase cycle to two months in Ciego de Avila. According to the official media Invasor, this measure responds to the critical deficit in inventories affecting the entire island, worsened by the irregular supply since late 2024.

Although the measure was meant to be “temporary,” authorities admit the situation remains “unpromising.” The extension of the purchase cycle is compounded by the suspension of sales on electronic platforms Ticket and Tienda Virtual, according to the local newspaper Invasor.

Danilo Tejera Sanchez, head of the LPG team at the Territorial Division of Fuel Marketing in Ciego de Avila, explained that setting a minimum of 60 days for acquiring the product is a measure aimed at “prioritizing” those who have been without supplies for the longest time.

For those who can’t acquire LPG, the alternative of using electricity is also not viable due to the recurring power cuts the country faces. This leaves many families in a situation of extreme vulnerability, forced to improvise solutions to prepare their daily meals. In some communities, neighbors organize to share resources, but the emotional impact of the crisis is evident.

The population’s desperation has led to an increase in public complaints and protests on social media. However, local and national authorities have responded with statements many consider insufficient. Meanwhile, gas remains a luxury for those who manage to obtain it, while the majority face an uncertain future.

Patches on a Broken System

In the face of the magnitude of the problem, the Cuban government has tried to implement measures to mitigate the crisis. In December 2024, the arrival of a tanker ship with liquefied gas was announced to resume distribution in some provinces. However, these deliveries have been insufficient to meet the national demand, which far exceeds the current supply capacity.

One of the most discussed strategies has been the use of the “Mi Turno” app, designed to organize virtual lines and facilitate LPG purchases. Although this initiative is theoretically meant to alleviate consumer frustration, in practice it has proven inefficient. Technical failures and lack of connectivity have made it difficult for many users to access the platform, leaving many outside the system.

In a context where demand is so high, these measures have proven to be only temporary band-aids. The authorities’ rhetoric often focuses on justifying the situation with the impact of US sanctions, but they offer no concrete short-term solutions. Meanwhile, the population continues to endure long waits, uncertainty, and the need to find alternatives to replace the lack of gas.

Marlene Rodríguez, an internet user, claimed that in the municipality of Jesus Menendez, in Las Tunas, the sales have not been completed for those who turn was in June 2024. In a Facebook post, the user commented: “This situation is concerning because it does not meet the high demand. I hope that when the distribution begins in Las Tunas, they pay a little more attention to the municipalities that are most affected by the power cuts; not everything bad should happen to us.'”

Informal Market and Growing Inequalities

In the midst of the crisis, the informal liquefied gas market has found fertile ground to expand. Gas cylinders can be sold for 35,000 pesos (around $100 USD), as seen in an advertisement from January 6, 2025.

In another post from January 14, the price hovers around 40,000 pesos, although there are also ads with a relatively lower figure, yet still disproportionate compared to the average monthly Cuban salary (4,648 pesos, according to the National Office of Statistics and Information).

Informal intermediaries have become the last hope for many families desperate to get cooking gas, as the lack of state alternatives worsens. The existence of this parallel market is not only an economic problem but also an ethical one. The exorbitant costs deepen social inequalities in a country already struck by widespread poverty.

On social media, some citizens have denounced corruption within official distribution systems, accusing employees of diverting cylinders to sell them at inflated prices. These accusations reflect a general distrust of the institutions responsible for ensuring access to gas.

Internet user Roberto Carlos Bermudez Tamayo commented on a post announcing the suspension of sales: “So there’s no gas until further notice, and outside they asked me for 4,000 pesos and filled it up in a second. Who’s the bigger bandit, the one who sells it on the side or the one who should control it and doesn’t?”

The rise of the informal market and illegal activities is not only a symptom of the shortage but also a reflection of fractures in the social fabric. While some manage to access gas through excessive payments, the majority are relegated to long waits and makeshift solutions, accentuating the inequalities in a society that, in theory, aspires to equity. Perhaps that’s why, in one of the ads on Revolico, it reads: “The liquid from a gas canister for sale. It’s not cheap so don’t ask just for fun.”

An Uncertain Future and a Population on the Brink

Despite the authorities’ promises, there are no clear signs that the liquefied gas crisis will be resolved in the short term. Structural problems, from the shortage of cylinders to difficulties in importing fuel, persist and worsen the situation. Cubans, accustomed to adapting to adversity, now face one of the greatest challenges of recent years.

The impact of this crisis goes beyond extinguished stoves. The lack of gas affects the quality of life, increases the emotional burden on families, and exposes the limitations of a system unable to meet the basic needs of its population. For many, firewood and makeshift stoves have ceased to be a temporary solution and have become part of their daily routine.

In rural communities, where access to gas has always been more limited, the situation is even bleaker. There, the dependence on firewood and charcoal is not only a necessity but also a risk to environmental sustainability. The cutting down of trees and the indiscriminate use of natural resources exacerbate the ecological problems the country already faces.

The flame of liquefied gas, a symbol of progress and modernity, is slowly fading in Cuba. Meanwhile, the stories of families struggling to survive reflect a nation at a crossroads. Without long-term structural solutions, the crisis could be just the prelude to even greater challenges for the island.

First published in Spanish by El Toque and translated and posted in English by Havana Times.

Read more from Cuba here on Havana Times.