'I left the winery with my heart in pieces': complaints surround Mexican aid in Cuba

“I left that warehouse with my heart broken,” wrote Ledys, mother of a girl with cerebral palsy and chronic malnutrition in Havana, on the Facebook group Madres Cubanas Luchadoras (Cuban Mothers Fighting Back). Her daughter, aged 12 and weighing as much as a five-year-old, did not appear on the list of beneficiaries of the donation from Mexico. “I don't understand how these children who suffer so much hardship and pain are left out,” she complains. Her testimony reflects the climate of frustration surrounding the distribution of humanitarian aid sent by Claudia Sheinbaum's government to Cuba, presented as a show of “solidarity” in the face of pressure from Donald Trump, whose effective delivery to the population has been marked by opacity and complaints. From a legal standpoint, foreign aid does not circulate outside the state apparatus. DIARIO DE CUBA lawyer Maylin Fernández Suris explains that the assistance received by the island falls within the general framework of international cooperation, primarily based on Decree-Law No. 16 of 2020 and coordinated by the Ministry of Foreign Trade and Foreign Investment. According to her, this design responds to a “logic of centralization: all aid from foreign governments must be channeled through official channels.” The lawyer warns, however, that although the scheme is based on principles such as non-interference and state planning, the absence of clear mechanisms for public transparency and independent accountability could undermine confidence and limit the efficient distribution of aid. Almost 2,000 tons in less than a month On the morning of February 28, the Mexican Navy ships Papaloapan and Huasteco arrived at the port of Havana with almost 1,200 tons of food. According to the Ministry of Domestic Trade (MINCIN), the Papaloapan transported 1,078 tons—mainly powdered milk and beans—while the Huasteco carried 92 tons of beans and 23 tons of other products. These shipments are in addition to other shipments made in February. On the 12th of that month, the Mexican Ministry of Foreign Affairs confirmed the arrival in Havana of two ships with more than 814 tons of food and hygiene products. In total, Mexico has shipped almost 2,000 tons in a few weeks, in a context of prolonged blackouts, uncontrolled inflation, and chronic shortages on the island. However, the regime has not published lists broken down by province or detailed figures on beneficiaries. The head of MINCIN, Betsy Díaz Velázquez, stated that the products would be incorporated “immediately” into the distribution network and that “vulnerable groups” would be prioritized, without specifying quantities. Concentrated distribution and minimal rations The first 814 tons were distributed only in Havana, Artemisa, Mayabeque, and Isla de la Juventud. In Mayabeque, 43 tons were covered on the Noticiero Estelar news program, which showed images of grateful beneficiaries collecting rice, sardines, cookies, and cans of peaches. But on social media, the narrative has been different. In Güira de Melena, Artemisa, according to information published by the local trade subsidiary, 30 underweight and undersized children, 88 pregnant women, 5,541 children aged 0 to 13, and 361 vulnerable households benefited. However, the packages were meager. For underweight children, a package of rice and two cans of sardines; for pregnant women, three packages of rice and two packages of cookies; for children aged 0 to 13, a package of cookies; and for “vulnerable households,” a package of cookies. “Bread for today and hunger for tomorrow,” wrote one user. “As if eating that for two days is going to make them gain weight or grow.” Another mother questioned, “What about milk? The package that Mexico sent also included milk. Who got the milk?” The doubts multiply. In Alamar, a woman reported that the “humanitarian donation” amounted to “a simple bar of soap” for her three-month-old baby. Her ten-year-old son “received nothing.” In Regla, another mother described a more complete package—rice, black beans, oil, sardines, fruit in syrup, and cookies—but also wondered if other families received the same or were left out. He distributes and distributes and keeps the best part for himself.“ ”I will always be grateful for any help the Cuban people receive, but in Cuba nothing arrives without first passing through state control," wrote Yanetsy Pino, who published the distribution data in Güira de Melena to question the official narrative. Similar complaints abound in the comments on institutional websites and in the official local press: “I'm from Güira and no donations have arrived”; “Here in San Antonio de los Baños, nothing has arrived”; “Let's see if we get lucky and the storekeeper gives us what he could get.” The shared perception is that the tons announced are diluted in the state distribution chain, a process that, as Fernández Suris points out, lacks public auditing mechanisms to verify inventories, logistics routes, or allocation criteria. This issue is another clear example of the cracks in the welfare state narrative that the Cuban government has maintained for decades. According to a recent survey by DIARIO DE CUBA, conducted by Cubadata between late January and early February, only 5.4% of Cubans surveyed believe that state institutions have played the most important role in solving the problems of the population. Selective vulnerability in an impoverished country The prioritization of pregnant women, underweight children, and adults over 65 has also generated tensions. “For whom? We are all in need,” summarized Jany Valdés in a publication by the Municipal Assembly of People's Power in Pinar del Río, where some 40 tons of oil, beans, rice, and jams were received for vulnerable groups, the euphemism Havana uses to refer to the poor. “Cancer patients—who don't even have medicine because there is nothing at the cancer center, and they don't know when there will be—can't even get our hands on any donations,” lamented Sonia Rivera. In a country where the average salary does not cover the basic basket of goods and a packet of powdered milk can cost almost a month's salary, the distribution of one or two packets of cookies per child is seen by many as humiliation rather than relief. “We live on crumbs and are happy for any little bit,” wrote Yesi Iglesias. “They don't give us even 30% of what they promised. They give us that so we'll shut up.” Propaganda and silence Aware of the public attention, the authorities have released images of beneficiaries thanking the Mexican government.