The official newspaper ‘Girón’ gives a shocking description of the situation in the province of Matanzas.
Olea Gallardo, Havana, October 6, 2024 — “This illness has made you lose track of time and even logic. You no longer know how many days you, your husband, or your mother-in-law have had the symptoms, or if this is dengue, oropharyngeal fever, or chikungunya, or when the after-effects will go away, or how many minutes ago you got out of bed, or where it all began, or when the authorities knew, or why it took them so long to act. Or maybe they acted quickly and well and you didn’t find out because you no longer watch the news because of the power outages, or don’t have internet access until the month is up so you can put a recharge on your next bill.” The text is not a complaint posted on Facebook by an anonymous source or a statement given to an independent media outlet, but an article published this Sunday in the Matanzas newspaper, Girón.
The province is under an unprecedented epidemiological alert since the COVID-19 pandemic, and the fact that such words appear in a pro-government media outlet demonstrates the desperation of its inhabitants.
The note, signed by Raúl Navarro González, speaks not only of the symptoms (“you’ve lost your appetite, you’ve lost weight, you’ve lost strength in your hands and legs, and the terrible pain makes you not even want to get out of bed”) and the cost of medications on the black market (“the sheets no longer smell clean, but rather of the last fever you sweated out, the rancid stink of the paracetamol blister pack, mixed with the smell of the coil you burned and the $10 repellent spray you sprayed on your son’s body, hoping—for God’s sake!—that no mosquito would infect him”). And, it also speaks of the suspicion that the illness has nothing to do with Aedes aegypti , the transmitter of dengue, chikungunya, and oropouche: “Staying under the mosquito net sweating makes no sense because everyone in the house is already infected, and besides, it’s a luxury you can’t afford.”
“A wail, a curse word, escapes you when you manage to peel yourself off the mattress and put your feet on the floor.”
The description is graphic: “A wail, a curse word, escapes you when you manage to peel yourself off the mattress and place your feet on the floor. Then, when you take the first step, two tears fall. One, from the discomfort in your body. The other, larger one, falls from the pain in your soul, from the helplessness you feel as you walk down that hallway that feels narrow and dark, like this infected island you inhabit and love.”
The only praise in the text is for the residents, many of whom “have come by to learn how they can help.” One of them reported that “they were finally collecting the garbage in some neighborhoods and that they were also fumigating,” says the author, who concludes: “This disease we suffer from leaves an iron taste in our mouths that is too bitter.”
The testimony published in Girón is very similar to the one offered to 14ymedio by Annia Zamora, mother of political prisoner Sissi Abascal and a resident of the small town of Carlos Rojas, Matanzas. “The truth is, I can’t describe what we’ve been through here at home,” she said by telephone. “We couldn’t even get up to give each other a glass of water in the other bed. This has been very painful, very sad. It has affected us physically and psychologically. I myself can’t even walk because of the pain and swelling in my legs.”
The woman, who, like many other Cubans, has been suffering for two weeks from an illness they can’t name because they don’t know what it is, is certain of one thing: “The regime is lying shamelessly.” Her story paints an unmitigated picture of the health situation: “People are dying because of this virus.”
“It’s not the same. There are people who are having a much worse time. It’s something strange we’ve never seen before.”
As for the symptoms, she confirms: muscle pain that prevents even walking – “my hands and feet become stiff”; fever that reaches 40 degrees, vomiting, diarrhea… “It’s not the same; there are people who are having a much worse time, it’s something strange that we’ve never seen before.”
Zamora asserts that, far from being resolved, the situation continues to worsen. Hospitals and polyclinics are overwhelmed, and there are no medicines. “Right now, I have a relative admitted to the pediatric hospital in the city of Matanzas. They had him in the hallway on a stretcher because the hospital is completely overwhelmed,” she complains. “The only medication a patient can take is something they look for it on the black market or someone gives it to them, because there’s nothing in the pharmacies. Not even the hospitals have Duralgina to give to a child when they arrive with a fever of 39C [102F].”
For the activist, this is an “incredible” situation, but even more incredible is “the ease with which the regime lies”: “There’s no garbage collection, there’s no fumigation, it’s all a lie.”
Her words contradict the authorities’ announcement this Saturday, which claimed to have increased the “anti-vector fight,” meaning fumigation against the Aedes aegypti mosquito, and that “all municipalities are more organized.” In a note published in Granma, the provincial director of Hygiene, Epidemiology and Microbiology of Matanzas, Andrés Lamas Acevedo, explains that dengue fever is being transmitted in 12 municipalities in the province—all except Ciénaga de Zapata—and that chikungunya transmission is also “certified.”
“It spreads from person to person, through the air, through the environment. Something happens and it’s on a different level.”
Likewise, he stated that the priority is “active surveillance and combating dengue,” which, unlike chikungunya, can be fatal, although he did not report any deaths in the country. The clinical picture of chikungunya, he said, “is very serious,” but “people do not become seriously ill or die from it.”
However, he did warn that chikungunya can be “concomitant” with dengue in the same person, so he encourages people to go to the health service “so that the doctor can evaluate the appropriate course of action,” because, he cautioned, “we cannot self-medicate.”
He made no mention of the testimonies that have been multiplying in recent days, many of them reported by 14ymedio, which allude to the impossibility of an accurate diagnosis due to the lack of reagents. From Matanzas itself, Miguel Alejandro Guerra Domínguez, a doctor and victim of the shortage at the Cárdenas Territorial Hospital, denounced on social media that he had not received the tests required for the progression and monitoring of his illness. “A hospital that does not guarantee the basics for the diagnosis and monitoring of dengue is seriously failing its population,” he said on his Facebook page.
The more than 700 comments left by Girón’s readers on social media reaffirm the seriousness of the situation and abound in widespread suspicion. One commenter is even surprised that a pro-government newspaper would publish such a comment: “The Girón newspaper has the odor of 14ymedio,” Yobanis Herrera says sarcastically.
“It started 21 days ago with pain in my hands and neck, then it spread and I developed a high fever, itching, and loss of appetite.”
Maritza Catalina Rodríguez, for her part, ventures: “In my humble opinion, I don’t think it’s a mosquito. I’m more inclined to believe it’s a disease like rubella, mumps, measles, contagious diseases that spread very quickly.” Many other commentators agree, such as Jeny Dacal: “I totally agree. It spreads from person to person, through the air, the environment. Something happens and it’s on another level. It’s something that attacks the entire nervous system and makes you feel like you’re almost dying. I had it, and I’m 34 years old, and I thought I was dying. I had difficulty speaking, I felt like my soul was leaving me. It’s extremely unpleasant. This isn’t because of the mosquito, I’m sure of that.”
The responses are not only from Matanzas residents, but also from residents of Cienfuegos, Ciego de Ávila, Villa Clara, Guantánamo, Havana, and other provinces. Several users suggest it could be scarlet fever, which according to journalist José Luis Tan Estrada is being reported in Camagüey.
Without knowing for sure what is attacking them, the sufferers can only describe the similar symptoms: “It started 21 days ago with pain in my hands and neck, then it spread, leading to a high fever, itching, and loss of appetite. Currently, I wake up early with a stiff neck, no grip. The leg pain is worsened by the circulatory problems. I don’t know for how long; I can’t continue taking paracetamol. Could it be chronic?” wonders Adelfa García, from Matanzas.
Some others allude to the severity with which the COVID-19 pandemic hit that same province more than four years ago. The situation reached its peak between June and July 2021, precisely in the days leading up to the 11 July Island-wide demonstrations, in which Matanzas residents participated massively and which were especially intense in the municipality of Cárdenas.
Hildolidia Martell summed up the state of affairs in her commentary: “On my block, we’ve all suffered and are still suffering from the virus. But what did you expect, given the unhealthiness and shortages we’re enduring? Well, if you can even call it surviving? Yesterday, as I was returning from the clinic, a man said to me, ‘Ma’am, we’re dead and we haven’t even realized it.’ No, we’re still breathing, I replied. He looked at me very seriously and replied, ‘We’re dead people who are breathing.’”
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