In Cuba, being an independent journalist means resisting censorship and redefining the role of the press in a society in transformation.
14ymedio, Havana, Generation Y, Yoani Sánchez, May 3, 2026 — Every May 3rd carries a different weight when you practice journalism in a country where press freedom is not a right, but a daily battle. This is not a date for celebration, at least not in the most comfortable sense of the word, but for taking stock: of what has been won through hard work, what has been lost along the way, and what still needs to be built. In Cuba, being an independent journalist is not just a profession; it is a form of resistance.
I’ve learned to measure time not just by the days that pass, but by the times the internet connection drops, by the messages that never arrive, by the calls that are cut off just as someone begins to share their story. The poor quality of communications isn’t just a technical problem; it’s a strategy. As are the operations surrounding our homes, the police patrols that appear on “sensitive” dates, the officers who watch, take notes, and intimidate. There are days when going out to report something means first having to get past a cordon.
Added to this are the more visible threats: summonses, interrogations, seizures, and legal proceedings that seek to criminalize the practice of journalism. They call us “mercenaries,” “enemies,” “destabilizers,” as if reporting the truth were a form of violence. But the truth is that the greatest fear of those in power remains that someone will observe, ask questions, and publish.
The greatest fear of those in power remains that someone will look, ask questions, and publish.
However, the challenge doesn’t end with repression. There is another challenge, quieter, and more complex that has to do with Cuban society itself. For decades, the country lived under an information monopoly that shaped not only what was said, but also how it was heard. Many citizens grew up with the idea that the press should confirm, not question; accompany, not investigate; embrace, not criticize. Today, as the cracks in that wall deepen, confusion also emerges: What is the role of a journalist? To whom do they answer?
Therein lies, perhaps, one of the greatest challenges of the future: rebuilding the relationship between the press and the public. Explaining, with facts and rigor, that our role is not to please nor to be an echo chamber for politicians or special interest groups. That we are not here to applaud nor to amplify slogans. That journalism, in its essence, makes people uncomfortable. It investigates. It reveals. And that this discomfort is necessary, both when it targets those in power and when it illuminates the dark corners of society itself.
To be an independent journalist in Cuba today is like walking on unstable ground, where every step can have consequences. But it is also an inspiring profession. Because amidst the blackouts, the censorship, and the imposed silence, every published story is a small victory against the gag order.
To be an independent journalist in Cuba today is like walking on unstable ground, where every step can have consequences.
This May 3rd, I have no certainties, but I do have convictions. The main one: that even if they cut off our connection, there will always be someone looking for a signal to publish an article or denounce an injustice. And as long as that need to know, to understand, to name what is happening exists, journalism, even the most persecuted kind, will continue to find a way to prevail.
To my colleagues, congratulations on this day, but I warn you that the road ahead is full of dangers, even dangers that come from what today seem to be very close support.
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COLLABORATE WITH OUR WORK: The 14ymedio team is committed to practicing serious journalism that reflects Cuba’s reality in all its depth. Thank you for joining us on this long journey. We invite you to continue supporting us by becoming a member of 14ymedio now. Together we can continue transforming journalism in Cuba.