The recent policy shift by Cuba's Telecommunications Company, ETECSA, restricting the use of the Cuban peso (CUP) for mobile services, has sparked a controversial outcome in the island's informal economy. Now, digital credit is being traded like any other currency. Mere days after the measure was enacted, a bustling trade of credit packages has emerged on social media, with 360-peso credits—obtainable only through international top-ups—being sold for around 1,000 CUP.
This development not only illustrates how swiftly the informal market adapts to state-imposed distortions, but also highlights the deep societal unrest caused by economic decisions made without public consultation. What used to be a simple mobile top-up has now morphed into an alternative currency: ETECSA credit holds street value and is exchanged in buying and selling groups as if it were a scarce commodity.
The Rise of ETECSA Credit as a New Commodity
Screenshots of these offers quickly circulate on social networks. Ads like "selling 360 credits for 1,000 CUP" have started appearing in provincial trading groups. The logic is straightforward: without access to data packages in national currency, those receiving foreign top-ups can resell their credit to individuals lacking overseas relatives or dollar incomes, gaining a significant profit.
Implemented on May 30, the ETECSA policy dictates that only a monthly data package of up to 360 CUP—equivalent to 6GB—can be purchased. Additional packages, along with text messages and calls, must be paid in US dollars (USD), euros, or MLC through international top-ups.
Social Implications and Public Outrage
The state-owned entity justifies this move, claiming it's necessary to secure foreign currency to maintain service, but many see it as an "undercover dollarization" that intensifies digital exclusion. As a result, countless Cubans relying on CUP wages now face restricted internet access.
The scarcity and value of mobile credit fuel a resale dynamic where, once more, those with overseas connections can sustain themselves—or even profit—while the more vulnerable remain disconnected. Social media buzzes with indignation, as comments on a CiberCuba Facebook post (over 2,700) underscoring a recurring theme: each government decision spawns a new informal business and burdens the populace.
Government Criticism and Economic Strain
Many question why a self-proclaimed "people's company" imposes conditions that force reliance on the black market for basic services like connectivity. Some view this as a calculated strategy to further burden overseas families, who must now top-up to cover not only basic needs but also access to information.
Many users agree that, as with other scarce products—gasoline, coffee, gas, transportation—mobile credit has joined the list of goods obtainable only under speculative conditions. Connectivity, once a right, has become a privilege, and communication among Cubans depends on their ability to pay inflated prices in a scarcity-driven market.
Meanwhile, numerous reports suggest tolerance—or complicity—from authorities in this phenomenon. For many, the informal market is not just a response to shortages but a functional structure that feeds power sectors. "None of this is spontaneous," comments suggest. "Every restriction comes with a business opportunity someone at the top has already calculated."
Citizens are not just venting frustrations; many call for a halt to foreign top-ups as protest, while others worry about those relying on the internet for education, work, or staying in touch with family.
"The new rates are abusive, unrelated to wages. If they can't sustain the company, they should shut it down," read various posts. Criticism of the supposed efficiency logic from the government is also growing. ETECSA's president recently stated on television that "the Cuban peso has no market," and that their offers cater to external demand. However, this assertion is widely seen as an admission of the internal economic collapse, the real devaluation of the CUP, and the regime's ongoing extortion of its emigrants, with Cuban relatives held hostage to the rulers' interests.
"The dollar already sells for over 370 pesos. Now credit does too. What's next? Electricity in USD?" some users ask sarcastically. Others, more skeptical, warn that the true goal isn't to improve telecom infrastructure but to capture foreign currency regardless of social fallout.
For most, this situation reflects the overall system's decay. Each measure, rather than providing solutions, opens new fronts of inequality.
"First came the blackouts, then the food, now the internet. Every aspect of life in Cuba is being privatized, and the worst part is they don't even call it that," commented a participant in the virtual debate.
Amid the widespread discontent, one phrase recurs: "This was expected." In Cuba, whenever the government imposes a restriction, a new business blooms—legal or not—exploiting the gap left by the state.
This time, digital credit becomes yet another means of survival—or profiteering—depending on which side of inequality one falls.
Questions About ETECSA Credit and Informal Market Dynamics
Why has ETECSA restricted the use of pesos for mobile services?
ETECSA claims the restriction is necessary to collect foreign currency to sustain its services. However, many perceive this as an attempt to dollarize the economy under the guise of technical measures.
How are Cubans reacting to the ETECSA policy change?
The policy has led to widespread criticism and a surge in informal trading of ETECSA credit. Many Cubans express frustration over the limited access to internet services and the perceived exploitation by the government.
What impact does this have on the Cuban economy?
The measure has increased the informal market activity around mobile credit, highlighting the economic distortions and inequalities exacerbated by government policies. It reflects a broader trend of scarcity and privatization in the Cuban economy.