HAVANA. – In the fall of 2019, Rainier and Yordanka set out for Havana carrying three rustic wooden suitcases, a bag of unroasted coffee, and an old Chinese fan that they loaded onto a horse-drawn cart. The furious winds of a hurricane had destroyed their dirt-floored, thatched ranch in a rural area bordering the Sierra Maestra in the province of Santiago de Cuba.
The trip was an adventure. They had to cross swollen rivers, destroy roads and evade the police when they disembarked at the Havana train terminal at the stroke of midnight. With the money he had saved, Rainier bought a bicycle taxi and pedaled for twelve hours through the narrow streets of Old Havana. His wife set up a nail and hairdressing business.
After three years of living in the capital, he owned half a dozen bicycle taxis and, taking advantage of the falling prices caused by the migratory stampede of more than 700,000 Cubans, he bought an interior apartment in La Victoria, a neighborhood in Centro Habana. When the MSMEs were established, together with a partner he opened a grocery store in a central location in the city. “The money I saved was not sent to me by any relative in Miami nor did I steal it from the State. It was a fortune I gathered by working like a beast,” says Rainier, annoyed by the harassment of private businesses by state inspectors.
Last week, the authorities approved a regulation to regulate the price of six products that they consider essential: powdered milk, chopped chicken, oil, sausages, spaghetti and detergent. “It was not a measure agreed upon by the government with the entrepreneurs. The owners of MSMEs who met with some officials had already warned that this regulation was nonsense, because prices in the international market fluctuate, as does the cost of freight. An example: to bring a container from the Mariel area they charge you between 300 and 400,000 pesos,” explains Rainier.
Arbitrariness
“They spoke with business owners who generally sell in bulk and at wholesale prices. But they didn’t talk to those of us who have a small grocery store in the neighborhood and sell at retail prices. We don’t have hundreds of thousands of dollars, nor do we buy several containers of food. The profit on each product, in the case of a pound of chicken, is 40 pesos. In a month I can sell perhaps 100 boxes of 15-kilogram chicken. That represents 3,300 pounds. When you multiply it by 40 pesos, the profit is 132,000 pesos, about 420 dollars in the informal market. If you add other products like soft drinks, beer and candy, in a month I can have an average profit of 700,000 pesos,” Rainier explains.
“But that money is not gross profit. I have to pay 100,000 pesos for electricity, 150,000 pesos for salaries of seven employees, 120,000 for rent, transportation and other monthly expenses. I spend 80,000 pesos a month on bribes to corrupt officials and inspectors. And in taxes, which are various, plus social assistance, almost 200,000 pesos. In the end, after cleaning up, you are left with 90,000 or 100,000 pesos. That sounds like a lot of money, but it is less than 400 dollars at the exchange rate on the street. Because of inflation, that money is enough to eat and buy some clothes for my wife and son. Not much more. We are not rich. The government wants to dump the people on us. If I agree to sell at capped prices, I would have losses,” Rainier concludes.
Daniel, owner of a food and toiletries market in southern Havana, agrees that the regime’s crusade against the private sector affects “mainly small business owners with little money who usually resell products they buy from real sharks who import several containers and are connected to government officials or are their relatives. Those who sell chicken and oil by the container keep the same price. The one who has a stall in the neighborhood is the one who gets screwed. If we let the government get in our way, we’ll die of hunger.”
‘Unanimity’
At the recent meetings of the National Assembly of People’s Power (Parliament), where deputies always vote unanimously, the Minister of Economy and Planning, Joaquín Alonso Vázquez, speaking on Monday, July 15, described the gloomy outlook for the Cuban economy. “We have insufficient foreign currency income, external credits and a slow recovery of national production. There are limitations with fuel and energy; high and persistent inflation and high external debt,” acknowledged Alonso Vázquez.
According to the minister, at the end of 2023 the economy contracted by 1.9% and in the first half of this year “the complex scenario continues, marked by a high fiscal deficit and monetary emissions above what is recommended.” Agricultural crops have fallen between 30 and 60 percent. Fruits and vegetables are increasingly expensive. A pound of lemon is around 400 pesos. A string of onions costs 4,000 pesos, the monthly salary of a professional. Many children in Cuba have never eaten a beef steak or tasted an orange. Buying a staple food like bread is an odyssey for ordinary Cubans.
Extreme poverty on the island is close to 90%, a study by the Cuban Observatory of Human Rights has just revealed. In the last year, seven out of ten Cubans stopped having breakfast, lunch or dinner due to lack of money or food shortages. Disapproval of economic and social management reaches a record figure of 91% of the population. Since 2019, there has not been an economic or social sector that has grown in the country.
Complaints are raining down
People complain loudly on every corner, in queues or in old collective taxis, but the authorities do not listen. On the contrary, they intimidate the population and repeat an anachronistic narrative full of slogans, manipulations and false promises.
Saúl, who is unemployed, points out that lately, when Díaz-Canel speaks, he does so in an “increasingly threatening tone and with more contempt for the people. Not a single self-criticism from him or the rest of the bosses, who never apologize for all the nonsense they have committed and continue to commit. They have us in a thousand hardships. Now they want to force people to work for a miserable salary and cap the price of some foods.”
Rolando, a university student, believes that “leaders treat citizens like bullies. They do not propose, they do not engage in dialogue, they only impose their criteria. When they speak, it seems like they are barking. They put themselves on autopilot and repeat trite speeches. Nobody believes in them. They govern by abusing their power.”
The arrogance of the regime and the ideological madhouse that Cubans suffer have caused a historic stampede. The economist and demographer Juan Carlos Albizu-Campos told the EFE agency that the current population of Cuba would be 8 million 620 thousand inhabitants, as it fell by 18% between 2022 and 2023. Later, a UN study calculated that in 2100 the Cuban population could be less than six million inhabitants. Of that number, 2.5 million would be people over 60 years old.
In that hypothetical scenario, Cubans would be in the process of extinction. It would be Castroism’s greatest achievement.