‘We can’t take it anymore’: How Trump is pushing Cuba to the brink

‘We can’t take it anymore’: How Trump is pushing Cuba to the brink

As the sun dipped below Havana’s skyline, a Cuban man approached me, his voice barely audible. “Let the Americans come, let Trump come, it’s time to get this over with,” he murmured, as though confiding in a secret shared only with the wind. His words echoed a sentiment widespread among Cubans, who have endured decades of economic hardship and political upheaval. Yet this plea for change came at a pivotal moment, when a U.S. president’s aggressive tactics against Cuba mirrored those of the Cold War era.

Trump’s recent declarations have sent shockwaves through the island. During a CNN interview, he confidently asserted that Cuba is “going to fall soon,” a statement that resonates with the urgency of his actions. Unlike past administrations, Trump’s oil embargo has been swift and precise, carving deep into Cuba’s already fragile economy. The impact is palpable: hotels once bustling with tourists now stand empty, and the once-thriving transportation sector is in disarray.

“People can’t feed their families,” the man added, his voice trembling with frustration. “We can’t take it anymore.”

For over six decades since Fidel Castro’s revolution, Cuba has weathered numerous challenges. Failed CIA invasions, missile crises, and mass exoduses defined the island’s early years. Now, under Trump’s leadership, the pressure has intensified. The president’s campaign against Venezuela and Iran has set a precedent, and Cuba is the next target. “The U.S. will never again dictate terms to our island,” one official insisted, despite the mounting strain on Havana’s resources.

Without the naval blockade of the 1962 standoff, the practical effect of Trump’s policies remains stark. Oil shipments from Cuba’s remaining allies have dwindled, leaving the country without fuel to sustain its vehicles. The government’s reliance on tourist rentals has only deepened the crisis, as Cubans siphon fuel from state-run stations to sell on the black market. A single tank now costs over $300, a sum exceeding the annual earnings of many citizens.

Blackouts, once brief, now stretch for days, casting Havana in perpetual twilight. During a recent 36-hour outage, residents resorted to cooking over burning tree limbs on the sidewalk, a stark reminder of the island’s regression. “We have returned to the Stone Age,” one man joked, his tone tinged with both despair and reluctant acceptance.

While the government’s slogan, “Cuba is not alone,” remains a symbol of resilience, the reality on the ground tells a different story. The country appears isolated, its people weary from the struggle. Some hope for a shift in leadership, others for a reprieve from the relentless pressure. When my cameraman finally appeared, I asked the taxi driver if he wished to share his thoughts. He hesitated, then walked away, choosing to keep his complaints quiet—at least for now.