Cubans find rest on rooftops as blackouts drive them from home

Every night in Havana, as the oppressive heat and power outages create unbearable conditions inside homes, many Cubans flee to rooftops, porches, and public spaces in search of relief. One resident, Alexis Milan, brings his 17-year-old blind son to the rooftop of their three-story building each evening. As the sun sets, the rooftop transforms into a makeshift communal bedroom, with families from across the building using whatever space they can find.

Milan spreads out a sheet on top of an empty water tank and sits on two pillows, clinging to any airflow as he and his son attempt to get some rest.

Throughout Havana, only a few glimmers of light break through the darkness. Generators hum intermittently, dogs bark in the distance, and the occasional clack of domino tiles echoes down the street. Since January, a US fuel embargo has exacerbated ongoing power and water shortages, leading to nightly migrations to makeshift shelters across the city.

Havana's Malecon seawall, once a popular spot for tourists and lovers, now serves as a crowded promenade for those seeking respite from the sweltering heat. Residents settle onto the warm concrete after sunset, some gazing out at the Florida Strait while others lie on cardboard, mattresses, or directly on the ground. The open-air dormitory of the Malecon showcases cardboard, backpacks, and outstretched bodies as the city's inhabitants make the most of the evening breeze.

As dawn breaks, cell phones with remaining battery power emit alarms, gently waking the residents from their temporary slumber. Milan packs up his sheet and pillows before heading off to work at a warehouse. He speaks openly about the uncertainty of the situation, noting that he does not see an end to this nightly exodus.