Q24N (The Guardian) Felix Valdés García was just nine when the revolutionaries came to destroy his family’s trees, a symbol of a sweeping change that would ripple through Cuba for decades.
In the late 1960s, as Cuba’s communist regime launched the Revolutionary Offensive, Felix’s father lost their 800-hectare farm to a campaign aimed at clearing land for an immense sugar cane harvest — a desperate bid for financial independence that uprooted families and livelihoods.
For years, the Valdés family lived off rich soil by the Sagua River, surrounded by fruit trees and kin. But the dynamite that felled their trees marked the start of a long, painful decline. Today, Felix’s story echoes a nation’s unraveling. Cuba’s communist revolution, once a beacon for the international left and a source of pride for its achievements in education and healthcare, is crumbling amid economic hardship and political stagnation.
The island’s economy has nosedived, shrinking by over 11% between 2019 and 2024 and continuing to falter into 2025. Streets overflow with trash and beggars, power outages darken homes for hours, and food scarcity haunts daily life. Inflation has spawned a tiny elite able to import goods, while the majority struggle to afford basic necessities.
Once tight-knit communities are fraying, and hope is in short supply.
Older generations, who sacrificed for the revolution’s promise of equality and solidarity, find themselves abandoned. Pensions barely cover daily needs, and many younger Cubans have fled, seeking opportunity abroad. The government blames the decades-long US embargo, but critics point to mismanagement and failed economic reforms. Attempts to diversify through tourism, biotech, and energy have faltered, leaving infrastructure to decay.
Inside Cuba, protests meet harsh repression, and cynicism runs deep. The revolutionary dream that once inspired loyalty now prompts bitter questions: what was it all for? Intellectuals and professionals of the revolution’s early years see their descendants pushed into menial labor or exile.
Across the Florida Straits, Miami’s Cuban exile community watches anxiously, some even supporting stronger US intervention. Meanwhile, Cuban dissidents, like political prisoner-turned-exile José Daniel Ferrer, hold out hope for freedom and democracy after decades of repression.
Yet amid the despair, moments of quiet resilience persist. Felix, now a philosopher, revisited the land his family lost, planting a lemon tree in a clearing where the farm once stood. As a butterfly flitted by, the gesture was a small act of renewal in a country still searching for its future.
Cuba’s revolution may be nearing its end, but the memories, losses, and hopes it stirred remain deeply rooted in its people — a complex legacy that defies easy answers.
This is a brief overview of the article “No water or electricity, and children begging in streets filled with rubbish – but this is why I won’t leave Cuba,” originally published in The Guardian. Follow this link to read the full article.