I’m in Cuba, on the Ground, What’s Real?
Cuba is in the middle of a severe oil crisis driven by U.S. policy. On January 29, 2026, President Trump signed an executive order threatening tariffs on any country that sells or provides oil to Cuba.
UN human rights experts swiftly condemned the order, calling it "a serious violation of international law and an extreme form of unilateral economic coercion with extraterritorial effects, through which the United States seeks to exert coercion on the sovereign state of Cuba and compel other sovereign third states to alter their lawful commercial relations”.
Western media quickly labeled the situation a humanitarian crisis, painting a picture of near-total collapse.
Having been to Cuba before (in 2018), I knew the Cuban people are resilient and accustomed to hardship, so I went to see for myself.
What I found on the ground was stark but more nuanced, and grey, than the headlines suggest.
Oil prices have skyrocketed due to scarcity, with fuel $10+ a liter, or $35+ a gallon. On the black market fuel is reportedly running $600+ per tank depending on location.
In Havana, life was operating somewhat normally, though rolling blackouts of 6 to 16 hours were a daily reality at the casa particular where I stayed, a type of private homestay that allows U.S. travelers to spend money locally rather than funneling it through government owned hotels.
Every Cuban I spoke with described the crisis not as humanitarian, but primarily as an economic one.
Cuba has been battling severe currency instability for years. When I visited in 2018, Cuba maintained three currencies, the U.S. dollar, the Cuban Convertible Peso (CUC, pegged 1:1 to the dollar), and the Cuban Peso (CUP, pegged roughly 24:1 to the dollar).
In 2021, the government eliminated the CUC and attempted monetary unification, setting a single official rate of 24 CUP per dollar.
That system quickly broke down. The black market rate has since surged dramatically, sitting around 400-500 CUP per dollar at the time of my visit (march 2026), compared to the official government exchange rate of roughly 120 CUP per dollar.
This inflation has devastated anyone relying on government wages. Workers I spoke to earned $10 - $20 per month from the government, a salary being rapidly eroded by the peso's collapse.
The oil and energy crisis is hitting Cuba's poorest the hardest, as it always has. The poor rely on water pumps that fail during blackouts, store water in buckets, and have no cushion against rising food prices.
The middle class survives largely on money from family abroad.
The wealthy in Cuba are overwhelmingly government officials who have insulated themselves from the crisis.
In Havana, the government district, Havana Centro, maintained consistent power through generators and backup systems, while Old Havana and surrounding neighborhoods bore the brunt of the blackouts.
The real humanitarian crisis, Cubans told me, is in the eastern part of the island.
A hurricane several years ago devastated infrastructure there that was never fully rebuilt.
The blackouts are longer, fuel is more expensive to transport there, and food and water access is far more strained and expensive.
I was quoted roughly $1,000+ to make the trip east and was warned about the risk of getting stranded without cell service or fuel, so I couldn't verify it firsthand, but multiple Cubans described the eastern provinces as where genuine suffering is concentrated.
On the political question, not a single Cuban I spoke with expressed a desire for revolution or U.S. intervention.
Every person I talked to, unprompted, expressed anger toward Trump and Marco Rubio, and warm feelings toward Barack Obama.
They remembered in detail which hotel Obama stayed at, which restaurant he visited, and which Cuban TV program he appeared on, often pulling up the footage and showing me.
Obama's diplomatic approach clearly left a positive impression, and the contrast with the current pressure campaign is vivid.
Internet access has deteriorated significantly since my 2018 visit.
The public Wi-Fi parks that once dotted Havana appear to have been largely shut down, with most Cubans now relying on cellular data, a shift that, in my view, gives the government greater ability to monitor and censor online activity.
VPNs, Telegram, WhatsApp, Facebook, and Instagram are blocked or intermittently restricted.
If Trump's executive order remains in force, the trajectory is clear.
Cuba's poorest who are already struggling with water shortages, food insecurity, and deteriorating infrastructure will be pushed into famine like conditions.
The prolonged fuel deprivation risks pushing the most vulnerable toward malnutrition, dehydration, and famine-like conditions, in a country just 90 miles from Miami.
Rather than military pressure and economic coercion, the U.S. would do better to revisit the kind of professional diplomacy that Obama pursued, an approach that, based on what I heard from ordinary Cubans, actually built goodwill, opened doors, and warmed the hearts of Cubans to the American way.
The heavy-handed tactics the U.S. is employing are disproportionate given Cuba's negligible military threat.
History has shown that economic isolation does not weaken the Cuban government, it pushes the island closer to Russia and China.
Designating Cuba an enemy and cutting it off from Western trade has the predictable consequence of driving it into partnerships with nations the U.S considers its primary geopolitical rivals.
Kai Tutor | The Societal News Team
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