Cuba’s national power grid just flopped harder than a bad stand-up routine! The Energy and Mines crew dropped the bombshell: some substation threw in the towel, and poof—fourth blackout in five months.
It’s like Cuba’s auditioning for “World’s Darkest Island,” and they’re nailing it. Hit Friday night at 8:15 p.m.—western Cuba, including Havana, went full blackout mode, and the whole rickety system crashed like a cheap laptop.
Prime Minister Manuel Marrero Cruz jumped on social media, all dramatic, “We’re working tirelessly to fix this mess!”
Reuters was like, “Havana’s waterfront? Total ghost town—no lights, zilch.” Only a handful of swanky tourist hotels were still glowing, chugging along on their fuel-fired generators like they’re the VIPs at this blackout party.
The rest of the city? Pitch-black chaos. This human rights activist, Elsa Morejon, posted pics on X from her balcony—Havana looking like Gotham during a Batman blackout.
Social media’s blowing up from every corner of the island—east, west, all 10 million Cubans screaming, “Where’s my Wi-Fi?!” Thursday was already a preview with power cuts all day; the Cuba Electricity Union’s excuse was pure gold: “Plants broke, no fuel, whoopsie-daisy.”
This isn’t even a plot twist—late 2024 was basically Blackoutapalooza, and now hours-long rolling blackouts are just Tuesday vibes.
Cuba’s grid is ancient—like, older than that crusty VCR we found at the thrift store. Built decades ago, barely maintained, it’s a miracle it ever works.
80% of their power comes from crude oil—crude they don’t even have! They’re totally dependent on Venezuela, but Venezuela’s like, “Sorry, amigo, our economy’s a dumpster fire too.” Russia and Mexico? They’ve ghosted harder than my last Tinder match.
So Cuba’s stuck shelling out big bucks on the spot market for overpriced crude, probably waving a soggy cigar as collateral.
Oh, and renewables? A pathetic 4% of their power. They’ve got solar and wind potential out the wazoo, but nah, they’re married to fossil fuels like it’s a bad rom-com.
The plants are so old, I bet they’re held together with duct tape and communist dreams. When that substation blew, it was like the grid said, “I’m done, comrades—catch me on vacation!”
Now, imagine Havana stumbling around in the dark, kids crying, abuelas cursing, while tourists sip mojitos under generator-powered chandeliers. The government’s out here promising a “speedy recovery”—yeah, right, and I’m the next salsa king of Miami.
This whole mess started Thursday with glitches, and by Friday, it was lights out nationwide. People are raiding candle stashes like it’s the apocalypse, and I’m over here wondering if they’re gonna start bartering rum for batteries.
The Ministry’s probably huddled around a single flickering bulb, scratching their heads, while Marrero Cruz tweets motivational posters: “Teamwork makes the dream work!”
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