Ulises Toirac Criticizes Authorities Over Chikungunya Deaths in Cuba: "Their Inaction Keeps Me Awake at Night"

Cuban comedian Ulises Toirac has once again stirred social media with a message that, far from his usual irony, starkly highlights the deteriorating healthcare situation in Cuba. It underscores the human cost of a crisis that the government appears unable to manage effectively.

Through his Facebook page, Toirac issued a straightforward warning about the scarcity of medicines, the collapse of medical care, and the simultaneous spread of several diseases that are claiming lives across the island.

"The talent and the nobility exist, and there was no need to reach this point (of medicine shortages in Cuba)," Toirac wrote, emphasizing that the situation is not due to mere misfortune but rather a series of negligent actions and poor decisions.

In his post, he cautioned that although chikungunya is typically considered low-risk for fatalities, the concurrent circulation of various viruses—such as dengue, Oropouche fever, and COVID-19—creates a highly hazardous environment for the elderly and those with chronic conditions.

He painted a vivid and alarming picture of the health threat: "An Aedes mosquito bites someone with chikungunya, then another with dengue, then someone with COVID-19... and it ends up with an impenetrable cocktail of bugs. Deadly."

Toirac didn't just illustrate the problem; he directly blamed the authorities for their inaction in the face of an emergency that is costing lives. He asserted that the country's sanitary conditions remain conducive to the spread of diseases and that people are dying as a result.

"The inaction of the authorities keeps me awake at night. People are dying," he declared, denouncing the precarious conditions in which those without physical defenses or material resources to withstand prolonged illness must survive.

Amidst this backdrop, he publicly thanked those who have helped him obtain medicine and care, referring to them as his "guardian angels," making it clear that survival in Cuba increasingly relies on informal networks rather than a functional healthcare system.

This message comes after weeks in which Toirac himself has experienced the harsh realities of chikungunya firsthand.

In mid-November, he confirmed his infection and vividly recounted the virus's impact: crippling joint pain, fever, extreme exhaustion, and an almost total loss of autonomy for basic tasks.

In his "Diary of a Chikungunyano," he described how getting out of bed, making coffee, or even turning the coffee pot became physically exhausting challenges.

Though he initially resorted to dark humor to depict his ordeal, his current publication sheds any jocular tone to focus on the seriousness of the national situation.

By December, the artist explained that the disease persisted, especially affecting his spine and lumbar hernias, forcing him to measure every movement and to "shut down" early due to accumulated fatigue.

With a bitter clarity, he summed up his condition with a phrase that resonated with many Cubans: "I'm like the country."

Toirac's words are not just a personal account but a portrayal of a broader health crisis, marked by hospitals lacking supplies, empty pharmacies, and a population vulnerable to multiple, unchecked outbreaks.

In a nation where acquiring a painkiller or antibiotic can take weeks, the comedian's warning serves as a direct denunciation of a system that, rather than protecting, leaves citizens to fend for themselves.

For Cubans, the message confirms their daily reality: healthcare has become a privilege, and illness a harsher sentence for those unable to afford or access alternatives beyond the state system.

Toirac's alarm, sounded during the festive season, shatters the comfortable silence of celebrations and serves as a reminder that, amid repeated official narratives, "people are literally dying because of it."