Havana/Tuinucú/The two chimneys of the Tuinucú plant continue to stand out against the blue sky of the Sancti Spiritus plain, but they no longer emit smoke or announce the start of a new day of grinding. The silence that dominates the batey today is not only industrial: it is also electric, economic and emotional. Since the ingenuity he stopped grinding cane a few weeks agodaily life in this town of more than 5,000 inhabitants has changed abruptly, marked by prolonged blackouts and the feeling that the last bastion of the national sugar industry was defeated by a lack of fuel.
The Melanio Hernández mill, as the Tuinucú sugar mill is officially known, was much more than a sugar factory. Its generators produced electric current that supplied the batey and contributed to the national system, an advantage that for years made this town an exception within the province of Sancti Spíritus, despite the fact that some facilities had deteriorated over the years due to lack of investment from the State and the children had been transferred to another school. While in other municipalities the population suffered frequent power outages, in the batey the residents became accustomed to a relatively stable supply, sustained by the energy that came from the industrial heart of the place.
“The family from whom the power plant was taken away were the ones who sent the money to restore the Catholic church that was very deteriorated”
That tranquility disappeared when the machinery stopped. Since then, residents have had to adapt to blackouts that exceed 12 hours a day, a situation they barely experienced before the colossus closed. On nights without electricity, the batey is plunged into a darkness that recalls the worst moments of the Special Period of the 90s.
“The little that we had left has also been taken away from us, because this town is very abandoned,” says Eliécer, 79 years old and born in the batey. The old man observes the plant’s facilities with a mixture of nostalgia and concern. For decades he worked in activities related to the harvest and saw how the sugar industry sustained the economic and social life of the community.
Eliécer remembers that the residents of Tuinucú always felt proud of their history. Even though many emigrated to other provinces or abroad, they maintain ties with the people and contribute to preserving their traditions. “The family from whom the power plant was taken away were the ones who sent the money to restore the Catholic church that was very deteriorated,” he explains. With a firm voice he adds that “from this place the first test of shortwave radio transmission was carried out in Cuba, in 1912.”
The restored church still stands as a symbol of that past. A few meters away, however, the contrast is evident. The old batey school, which for years educated several generations of children, has become an abandoned structure, with peeling walls and partially collapsed roofs. The vegetation invades the surroundings and the building seems to resist barely by inertia.
/ 14ymedio/Courtesy
For Nieves, an elderly woman also born in Tuinucú, this deterioration sums up the destiny of the town. The woman sadly remembers the years when the school was full of students and the batey vibrated with the activity of the center. “It was intervened, they took it from its owners, and years later it was a ruin,” he says. His voice breaks as he describes the loss of so many “beautiful things” that were part of community life. “The recreational center for the workers of Tuinucú is also destroyed.”
The stoppage of the mill occurs at a critical time for the Cuban sugar industry. This year there will not be too many doubts about whether the harvest has once again been the worst in history, a title that the sector has carried since 2021. The Melanio Hernández was the only mill that was milling on the Island and, even so, it has had to cease its work due to the energy crisis.
Last year, The mill managed to meet the production plan and reached some 21,000 tons of sugar, even 1,800 more than expected. That figure made it a source of pride for the authorities and an example of resistance within a sector in decline. For the current harvest, the goal was more modest: around 14,000 tons. Milling started a month late, but was progressing at an acceptable pace until fuel shortages forced the machinery to stop.
According to the directors of the sugar company, the plant had produced about 40% of the planned sugar – about 5,600 tons – when the decision was made to close the mouth of the jogger. The measure was presented as temporary, but uncertainty about fuel supply and the future of the industry raises fears that the stoppage will last longer than expected.
“We felt privileged because here we defended ourselves with the current that the center gave us”
Meanwhile, workers in the sector have had to look for alternatives to stay active. In other provinces, sugar companies have redirected their efforts towards charcoal production and agricultural work, amid the collapse of the harvest. In Tuinucú, however, these initiatives have not yet been able to compensate for the economic loss caused by the paralysis of the plant.
“We felt privileged because while in other parts of Sancti Spíritus what people have are lights“Here we defended ourselves with the current that the power station gave us,” explains Nieves. The woman acknowledges that the change has been abrupt and that the neighbors were not trained to face a situation of prolonged blackouts. “We were not even prepared for everything that came after; “People have had to rush to buy batteries, generators and electric lamps.”
In the streets of the batey, uncertainty mixes with resignation. Homes remain silent during the hottest hours and small businesses adjust their schedules to take advantage of the times when the electricity returns. Daily life now revolves around waiting, as if each neighbor was waiting for the sign that the chimneys will smoke again.
But that signal does not arrive. In Tuinucú, the stoppage of the mill has not only turned off the batey lights, it has also sparked concern that this is the prelude to a definitive closure.













