Ramadan Under the Blockade: The Women of Havana’s Only Mosque
For Cuba's tiny Muslim community, the electricity blackouts, the food shortages, and the sharp reduction of public transportation make it increasingly difficult to participate in all the traditions that come with Ramadan.
In the Spring of 2022, I spent the last nights of Ramadan and Eid al-Adha in Havana, Cuba. I made it to Mezquita Abdallah, the only mosque in the whole country, before the sun went down—I'd missed the Eid prayer entirely, but I was able to sit around a table and talk with some of the women there. They told me what it was like to be Muslim in Cuba; many of them were converts like me, and few had Muslim families aside from the ones they made from scratch. Since I left Cuba in 2022, life there has gotten a lot worse.
International Women's Day is on March 8. Around the world, women and families are bearing the brunt of brutal US sanctions and militarism, and Cuba is no different. I've kept in touch with the women of the Havana mosque through a collection of WhatsApp messages, phone calls, and voice notes. This year, in the days leading up to the holy month of Ramadan, I conducted a series of interviews with them. In the wake of President Donald Trump's complete blockade of oil to the island, these women face an intensifying struggle to survive and provide for their families. Muslims in Cuba are entering one of the most beloved times of the year while grappling with a level of scarcity that is unimaginable to most. The women I talked to will ring in International Women's Day trying to balance the strains of living under a blockade while fasting for Ramadan.
For Cuba's tiny Muslim community, the electricity blackouts, the food shortages, and the sharp reduction of public transportation make it increasingly difficult to participate in all the traditions that come with Ramadan.
"For most people, it's very difficult to access the mosque during Ramadan,” said a 36-year-old mother. “There is no reliable transportation due to the lack of fuel. Many of us will have to stay home to break our fast because we live far away from the mosque. Without transportation, it becomes almost impossible to get there."
What will happen to the women living under the boot of the US empire if women here sit back and merely wait for the next election cycle?
Muslims who don’t live at the center of Havana’s old city (and most of them don’t) can’t pray at the mosque during the holiest month of the year. Lack of access to food on the island as a whole naturally leads to less access to non-pork options and halal meats, and the mosque is generally a place where halal foods would be distributed.
A single woman from the Mosque remarked that oftentimes, Muslims in Cuba practice their faith without any family support. "Cuban Muslim women face big challenges every day. Maintaining our religion in the correct way and surviving in the difficult economic situations," she said, "This is difficult for Muslim women who live by themselves, who are sick, or don’t get support from their families and society. And those who are elderly and alone."
She mentioned that she is the sole caretaker for her elderly mother, who is very sick. "I'm taking care of her, Alhamdulillah," she said, which means "Praise to God" or "Thank God."
The world has become somewhat familiar with the concept of blockades by watching what’s happening in Gaza. While the blockade on Gaza is enforced physically by the heavily armed Israeli military, the blockade on Cuba has been imposed economically, relying on trade threats and sanctions by the United States. Both types of blockades lead to food and medicine shortages, spiked prices, and widespread inaccessibility, causing hunger and the worsening of treatable medical conditions. Without access to proper nourishment and equipment, people die. Economic sanctions alone kill half a million people every single year. Cuba has some of the best and most capable doctors in the world, and there is no shortage of manpower—but the blockade increasingly restricts medical equipment coming into the country.
Around the world, it’s not uncommon for the responsibility of childcare and eldercare to fall on women. And when food and medicine are scarce, women carry the weight of keeping their families healthy, often faced with impossible choices.
Mayerci, another mother from the mosque, has two young children. Her son has struggled with his health for the last four years. Previously, the family was given nutritional support like supplementary milk and chicken rations, but the food shortages caused by the blockade effectively ended that extra assistance. Hospitals have run out of the zinc sulfate and asthma medication that he needs to remain healthy. On top of that, Mayerci herself is in need of surgery to treat her cystic fibrosis—but the hospitals no longer have the equipment for it. While dealing with her own illness, she has to try to make sure her children survive under increased scarcity.
"This is the life of Cubans today: if you buy food, you cannot afford clothing or medicines, and if you buy medicines, you cannot afford food," said Mayerci.
These interviews all took place about a week after the Trump administration implemented the total blockade on fuel. The conditions have only gotten worse since then, and will likely continue to decline for the foreseeable future. The effects compound for women, and evidently even more so for Muslim women at this time of the year.
While the women didn’t express any optimism for the near future, when I asked about Trump and Secretary of State Marco Rubio's talking points on Cuba, one of them remarked to me, "Personally, I don’t believe capitalism is the solution."
There is a glimmer of hope, though—much like we saw with Gaza, the world is mobilizing in solidarity with Cuba. In March, Cuba will receive massive shipments of solar panels that were crowdsourced by people near and far. Caravans and flotillas are also traveling to Cuba during the springtime, carrying suitcases stuffed with food and medicines to aid the Cuban people. By air, by land, and by sea, organizations like The People's Forum, CODEPINK, Progressive International, and others will attempt to provide some semblance of relief to the Cuban people.
This act of solidarity is powerful, but it won’t be enough. The solar panels won’t be able to power the entire Cuban electrical grid, and individual people can only fit so many supplies in their personal suitcases. Much like the genocide in Gaza, an end to the suffering in Cuba would require the people of the United States to rise up and fervently resist the warfare being carried out in their name by the likes of Marco Rubio and Donald Trump. With the US military intercepting ships bringing fuel to Cuba, and considering the violent history of US intervention, one cannot rule out some sort of armed US attack on Cuba. After the world set such an alarming precedent in Gaza, I can’t help but worry for my friends in Cuba—what will happen to the women living under the boot of the US empire if women here sit back and merely wait for the next election cycle?
History shows us the resilience of the Cuban people. My friends are surviving by cooking on coal, strategically using the limited hours of electricity to take care of their families—but how long can that last?
