The Damn Blame…

Sometimes I feel like grabbing the loudest pot I have and going out with my children to protest.

What my people are living through is unsustainable: blackouts, shortages of every kind, the violence that clearly grows in times of crisis… yes, I feel like calling the CDR, the People's Council, the whole motley community where I live, and banging all the pots I can in the ears of the one responsible.

The guy lives relatively close, but not close enough to hear me from my corner in Centro Habana, so we'll have to get to the Malecón and walk a bit. They will probably mistake us for deafening crickets, because the representative of the culprit is not interested in hearing the truth or any voices other than those that repeat his made-up stories.

Frankly, it's time to take all the aluminum out of the kitchen and start the conga in front of the U.S. Embassy, because yes, there is much to do at home, but you have to be blind not to realize that the fight is one-sided and the weaker side is tied down.

How many months without a single oil ship entering this island? What nation survives under those conditions? How many sanctions—against entities, people, countries…?

We have the big bully at school "set against us," and the rest of the classmates (of the world) pass by, look, and move on. There are some who dare to raise their voices; we are not alone. But the bully doesn't give a damn; he has the means to crush anyone who gets in his way. He has hijacked all rights.

The UN? Fine, thank you. We just saw it: 136 countries in favor of opening the debate against the inhumane siege we have been subjected to for over 60 years, which Trump has now intensified. The African Group, the Non-Aligned Movement, the Group of 77 and China, the Organization of Islamic Cooperation, the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, the Group of Friends in Defense of the UN Charter, human rights experts, and the UN Secretary-General himself have warned of a possible "humanitarian collapse" in my homeland.

So what then? Are we going to turn against ourselves, against those who work—with more or less effort—to survive the genocide? Are we going to burn trash and stoke hatred among Cubans? No, sir. We'll talk about the dirty laundry later, because I learned from childhood that it is washed at home. What we should change, the paths that necessarily need correcting, are internal matters that only Cubans have the right to resolve.

Let's aim first at the real culprit: does the powerful neighbor have the right to cut my electrical wires and water pipes because he doesn't approve of how I run my household? Yes, it's time to take to the streets and bang all the pots—but against the blockade, because in this case, the damn blame does belong to someone: the U.S. government and its pets in the anti-Cuban mafia in Florida.

Translated by Sergio A. Paneque Díaz / CubaSí Translation Staff