The Other Face of Cuba’s Streets
HAVANA TIMES – Solitary figures clothed in rags wander the streets of our cities, dragging their feet in silence, rummaging through the trash, and extending a hand to intercept passersby. The Cuban government and its “just revolution” once promised a country without beggars. That was one of the banners they waved as a symbol of social justice, supposedly taking on the responsibility of providing education, healthcare, and basic sustenance for all.
But despite “institutional efforts” and official rhetoric, reality reveals cracks through which stories of abandonment, exclusion, and despair seep. As you walk through cities and towns across the country, a contradiction appears that can no longer be hidden. This is not a case of mass homelessness as seen in other Latin American countries, but there is indeed a web of exclusion that has left many without shelter, food, or voice.
Most are elderly people with no family, broken by years of emigration, conflict, or emotional wear. Some suffer from undiagnosed and untreated mental illnesses and remain trapped in an institutional limbo where public health services fail to respond. Others have simply been defeated by extreme poverty.
What’s most alarming is how accustomed we’ve become to their presence—we see them as part of the urban landscape. At best, we might offer them some money, a piece of bread, or a drink. At worst, we look away, hurry past, lower our gaze, and pretend we didn’t hear the “Can you spare something to eat?” We justify it by telling ourselves they only want the money for alcohol. But it’s in these acts where the real danger lies—where we begin to lose our humanity. This indifference also marginalizes them. If we don’t see them, it’s as if they don’t exist. But they do exist.
I don’t intend to romanticize misery or assign blame. The truth is that we Cubans have been losing the values of solidarity, empathy, and justice. We are so overwhelmed by misery and darkness that the basic instinct of survival has risen to the surface. This is a phenomenon that is there, growing every day, and it won’t disappear magically.
It’s not just about protesting blackouts or abusive prices, it’s about questioning why people are sleeping on doorsteps, why elderly people lack medicine and care, why there are aimless young people drifting between destitution and illegality. These are human beings and, like us, they carry their own stories, pain, and dignity.
Demanding any improvement for the people in Cuba has become both futile and dangerous. There are so many things our rulers ignore—out of incompetence or neglect—but these people need immediate assistance, real social reintegration programs, not one-off operations. No country can consider itself just if its most vulnerable citizens have nowhere to sleep and nothing to eat.
In the meantime, all we can do is practice active compassion while the government presents a pretend reality before the international community. Sometimes a meal, a few kind words, or simply listening can make a difference. A society that only thinks in terms of “every man for himself” and leaves the helpless behind doesn’t just fail economically or politically—it fails humanly.