Havana: A Once Vibrant City Now Sinking Into Decay

Some cities age gracefully, while others bleed out slowly. Havana, once the Caribbean’s showcase, a cosmopolitan port, a hub of architectural experimentation, and a cultural capital, now seems trapped in a perpetual state of emergency. The urgency is palpable: the need to prevent the next building collapse, secure a water supply, navigate the city without wasting hours in line, and dodge the piles of trash that have become part of the landscape.

This isn't mere nostalgia. Pre-1959 Havana wasn't a paradise; it was a place where glamour and inequality coexisted, where upscale neighborhoods and overcrowded tenements stood side by side, where modernity clashed with marginality. Yet, the city undeniably grew, expanded, and modernized. Today’s Havana, after enduring 66 years under a political and economic system that centralizes control without accountability, is crumbling, stagnating, and emptying out.

The Forward-Looking Havana of the 1950s

In the late 1950s, Havana was in the midst of a post-war urban boom that reshaped its skyline with apartment buildings, hotels in the Vedado area, and entire neighborhoods such as Miramar, Country Club, and Biltmore, which emerged as symbols of social ascent with their modern homes and spacious layouts. This drive wasn't just about aesthetics; it was about infrastructure. The completion of the tunnel beneath Havana's bay in 1958 opened connections to historically isolated eastern areas, promising new development zones.

Havana was bold in its ambitions, epitomized by the 1956 completion of the FOCSA building, a landmark of Havana modernism, showcasing technical ambition and a metropolitan spirit. The city was vibrant and imperfect, continually under construction, and constantly dreaming of its future.

1960s: State Control and the Death of Private Ownership

The shift occurred when the government decided Havana was no longer a civic project but an ideological tool. Urban development and construction became state monopolies, halting the private real estate growth that had previously fueled expansion. The 1960 Urban Reform Law fundamentally altered the housing market, prohibiting property owners from renting urban buildings and restructuring home ownership under government-imposed rules. Although this was framed as social justice, offering immediate stability to some families, it eventually revealed its hidden cost: when the state owns everything, no one feels responsible, and investment stagnates.

Havana didn't begin to decay overnight; it was a long, drawn-out process. Decades of inadequate investment, material shortages, insufficient wages for repairs, bureaucratic governance, and impunity in administration wore the city down. Coastal cities like Havana, without regular maintenance, fall prey to salt, humidity, tropical storms, and time itself, but it is neglect, not the elements, that ultimately destroys.

Collapse Becomes Routine in Modern Havana

In present-day Havana, building collapses have shifted from extraordinary events to everyday threats, sometimes with deadly consequences. In October 2023, a partial building collapse in the historic center resulted in three fatalities, including two firefighters involved in an evacuation. Structural decay and neglect have become part of Havana's norm. By 2025, further collapses claimed more lives, including children, in a series of incidents that underscore the city’s internal disintegration.

Even structures that don’t fully collapse present hazards: falling balconies, giving way walls, and crumbling cornices pose direct risks to pedestrians and parked cars. A recent incident in Old Havana highlighted this danger, emphasizing the constant fear faced by residents.

The Housing Crisis: Massive Deficits and Official Neglect

While the regime speaks of "plans," the statistics reveal stagnation. As of July 2025, Cuba faced a housing deficit exceeding 800,000 units, with only about 2,700 constructed that year—a negligible increase. Furthermore, over a third of existing homes are in poor or fair condition, affecting more than 1.4 million residences. This isn’t merely a cosmetic issue but a structural one, involving electricity, leaks, columns, roofs, and plumbing. The city, once built to last, now survives on makeshift repairs and sheer determination.

A City Overwhelmed by Trash

Decay isn't always audible; sometimes, it's olfactory. The waste crisis has degraded Havana's daily life, making unsanitary conditions the norm. Months of accumulated trash in Cuban cities, including Havana, became part of the scenery due to shortages in machinery, supplies, fuel, and personnel. Official data reveals that the capital's daily waste volume exceeds 30,000 cubic meters. While residents demand solutions, government responses have bordered on cynical, urging "personal responsibility" for cleanliness as if the issue were moral rather than managerial.

Parched in a City Surrounded by Water

Havana is a coastal city, yet it increasingly functions like one without water. Between 40% and 70% of the pumped water is lost due to a deteriorating and poorly maintained system. By early 2025, over 600,000 Cubans relied on water deliveries by truck, with losses exceeding 40% due to leaks in distribution networks.

Transportation: A City at a Standstill

Havana is notorious for its queues: for bread, gas, and buses. When people can't move, neither can the economy or life itself. Buses are increasingly scarce and uncomfortable, and half of the routes outside the capital have been cut due to fuel and parts shortages. This reality forces residents to seek survival solutions: electric motorcycles, bicycles, and battery-powered inventions. Between 2020 and 2022, over 23,000 electric vehicles were produced in Cuba, with demand rising as a direct response to the fuel and public transport crises.

Luxury Hotels Amidst Urban Decay

As the capital crumbles from neglect, the regime prioritizes towering hotels for tourism. In 2025, a massive hotel with over 500 rooms and standing 150 meters tall dominated the skyline, drawing criticisms for its stark contrast: millions for luxury while housing, schools, and hospitals receive crumbs. Despite low occupancy rates and national struggles with power outages, scarcity, and emigration, the hotel construction agenda persists.

Old Havana: World Heritage Site in Need of Genuine Restoration

Havana is not just ruins; it’s a heritage site, a testament to resistance. The historic center, Old Havana, and its fortifications hold plazas and landmark buildings that narrate centuries of urban history. Although restoration efforts aimed at funding urban recovery through tourism revenue have been attempted, genuine progress requires freedoms, real investment, transparency, and decentralization. A city cannot be saved by restoring facades while people fear their roofs may collapse.

Havana's Exodus: A City Losing Its People

A capital thrives on its people, yet Cuba is losing its population at an alarming rate. The exodus is palpable in Havana, akin to a power outage: empty streets, buildings inhabited only by the elderly and children, missing professionals, and neighborhoods with less life and more resignation. Still, Cubans create support networks: chains of assistance, solidarity from within and the diaspora, citizens stepping in where the state fails.

Havana endures, but it shouldn’t have to fight to survive.

Five Data Points Illustrating the Decline

- National housing deficit: over 800,000; constructed in 2025 (up to July): around 2,700.

- Homes in fair or poor condition: 35% of housing inventory (over 1.4 million).

- Daily waste in Havana: over 30,000 cubic meters.

- Water losses: up to 70% of pumped water due to system deterioration.

- Priorities: a 150-meter luxury hotel amid crisis; tourism in 2024: 2.2 million (vs. 4.2 million in 2019).

Havana is for those who live in Centro Habana and shower with buckets.

For those waiting for a bus that never arrives.

For those clearing rubble after a building collapse.

For those cleaning their block because the garbage truck doesn't come.

For those who have emigrated and dream of it from afar, with an unshakeable sadness.

Havana should be the capital of a nation that deserves normalcy: reliable water, clean streets, functional transportation, safe buildings, transparent investment, and a government accountable to its citizens.

There’s no magic to save Havana—only choices: prioritizing housing over propaganda, services over control, transparency over opacity, citizenship over obedience.

Restoring Havana requires a non-negotiable change: the city must regain its rightful owners—residents with rights, businesses able to invest, auditable institutions, a free press unafraid to report, and authorities not hiding behind slogans.

Havana is dying slowly, yes. But it’s not dead yet. As long as there’s a Habanero—on the island or in exile—who remembers it as it was and imagines what it could be, there’s a chance the city might one day stop merely surviving and start truly living again.