The Cuban System Feeding Vulnerable People—Now Under Threat

“I’m an old man. I came here for lunch so I can survive,” says Lázaro Acosta, a retired veteran who receives assistance at the El Rampeño Family Assistance System center in Havana.

The Family Assistance System, known as SAF, was created by Fidel Castro to care for people in vulnerable situations. Established in 1998, it is a Cuban government program managed by local People’s Councils, neighborhood-level governing bodies responsible for addressing residents’ needs. Today, the program serves more than 70,000 people nationwide, including older adults, people with disabilities and those without family support.

Pedro Garcés, president of the Rampa People’s Council, explains that anyone experiencing vulnerability can approach a social worker and be enrolled in the program.

“When we designed this family assistance system, we wanted to provide comprehensive care, including health, sports and culture.”

“You are the founders of this country,” someone says to the older adults during a tribute honoring them.

At El Rampeño, staff work to ensure that residents receive their daily meals. “We always make sure they have lunch and dinner. Everyone else eats every day, and so should they,” says Sergio Martínez, the center’s administrator.

But maintaining that commitment has become increasingly difficult.

Today, Cuba’s state sector faces severe restrictions. “The U.S. government is suffocating us,” says Garcés.

The food provided to older adults depends heavily on the private sector, he explains. “We haven’t had a drop of fuel in over six months. We’re having a very, very hard time here. But we’re still here.”

The effects are particularly evident in the center’s supplies, Martínez says. Meals have not stopped, but deliveries take longer because of transportation shortages and delays in the arrival of shipping containers.

Despite these difficulties, Garcés says, the center has maintained its commitment to residents.

“In the 13 months since we opened, we’re proud that our seniors have never gone without rice and a main dish.”

He attributes that achievement to cooperation between the state and private sectors. “This is the result of cooperation between the state and private sectors. Feeding our seniors depends heavily on the solidarity of private businesses that want to improve other people’s lives.”

Traditionally, SAF centers relied on government resources, which have become increasingly scarce. Many now struggle to meet the basic needs of the people they serve.

El Rampeño has pioneered a different approach, partnering with private businesses to maintain a steady supply of food.

Garcés says the experience has inspired more than five other SAF centers to restructure themselves along similar lines.

For the people who depend on El Rampeño, the assistance it provides is essential.

“I live alone. One sister lives next door, and the other downstairs. But I live alone in my little room,” says Lázaro Acosta.

“It’s just my wife and me,” says Juan Enrique Borrel, a retired judo instructor who also receives assistance at the center. “My pension isn’t enough to live on.”

“I’m retired, and this is all I have to eat,” says Efigenio Caro, a retired construction worker.

Cuban retirement pensions range from 3,000 to 4,000 pesos a month, equivalent to roughly $4 to $6. As prices soar amid the island’s economic crisis, many older Cubans struggle to afford basic necessities.

For some, however, El Rampeño offers more than a meal.

“I come here all the time, and everyone gets along. The staff treats us very well,” says Lilian Fombella, a retired telephone operator.

“I have fun here, and they feed me too,” Caro adds.

The center also provides a place for people to spend time together. “We come here every Sunday to spend time with everyone. Pedro is doing something wonderful here,” says Borrel.

For Fombella, being able to come to the center is a blessing.

“I’m so happy to be here. I’m truly grateful.”

Garcés says his commitment to serving others keeps him going, even when the challenges seem overwhelming.

“I’m committed to serving others. But every night, I go to bed feeling I haven’t done enough, because we can do so much more, touch so many more hearts, and show so much more solidarity.”