electricity

Deir el-Balah, Gaza Strip – Every morning, Abdel Karim Salman begins his routine by heading out carrying his own phone and his wife’s phone, both completely drained of charge. He walks to a nearby charging point to plug them in and recharge them again.

Throughout the night, Abdel Karim relies entirely on the torches from the phones to light the inside of the tent he lives in with his family in central Gaza’s Deir el-Balah.

Abdel Karim, 28, a former civil engineer at the Beit Lahiya municipality in northern Gaza, was displaced to Deir el-Balah a year and a half ago with his wife and two children, along with about  30 members of his extended family.

His family home was completely destroyed on October 9, 2023, in the first few days of Israel’s genocidal war on Gaza.

Abdel Karim and his family have been on a difficult journey of displacement since then, with little in the way of normality, and in particular, a regular source of electricity for a bulb in his tent.

So he looks for alternatives to light up the structure, namely the phones, despite the rapid battery drain caused by keeping the torch function on.

“I charge my phone and my wife’s phone, and we use them for lighting at night, especially since my children are under five years old and they get scared if they wake up in the dark,” he says.

Abdel Karim says that the suffering caused by electricity shortages in Gaza is one of the largest “silent” forms of suffering that receives little attention.

For Abdel Karim, the charging process itself has turned into a daily, exhausting burden.

He walks between 150 and 200 metres every day to reach a charging point, paying between two and four shekels ($0.65 to $1.30) per charging session, twice a day.

“That means about eight to 10 shekels ($2.55 to $3.20) per day just for charging phones,” Abdel Karim explains, equivalent to approximately 270 to 300 shekels ($86 to $95) per month, a large amount given the lack of income among displaced families in Gaza amid the territory’s war-driven economic crisis.

“Many days and nights we sleep in darkness inside our tent. When we can’t charge the phones, they turn off, and we are unable to recharge them.”

Few options

With municipality-supplied electricity absent for two years in Gaza, several temporary alternatives have emerged, such as solar-powered lamps, but they remain unaffordable for most residents, having increased tenfold to about 300 shekels ($95) during the war.

As for solar energy systems, they are even more expensive, reaching $420 per panel, and with the additional cost of a battery – about $1,200 – and an inverter. All these items are also scarce due to severe Israeli restrictions on their entry into the Gaza Strip since the beginning of the war.

For Abdel Karim, who lost his job soon after the war began, those sums are out of his reach.

Among the alternative solutions introduced during the war are private generator-based electricity systems operating on diesel fuel.

However, those are also unaffordable for many, and their services have fluctuated due to irregular fuel supplies through the crossings.

And so, with most options simply too expensive, that leaves many in Gaza in the same boat as Abdel Karim.

The impact of the power cuts is not limited to lighting or charging, but extends to every detail of daily life, especially for families with children.

“There is no refrigerator, no washing machine … even baby milk cannot be stored for more than two or three hours,” Abdel Karim explains, as he remembers his previous life, when his home was filled with electrical appliances and reliable power.

“The phone charging socket used to be right beside my bed. I could plug it in whenever I wanted. Today, that has become a dream inside this tent,” Abdel Karim adds.

He also says his children have been psychologically affected, especially his eldest son, due to the lack of any means of electronic entertainment or distraction from his grim surroundings.

“There is no TV or screen. He keeps asking for the phone all the time just to calm down, but that also needs charging. Everything is dependent on electricity.”

According to Abdel Karim, his suffering is not an exception. He believes almost all of the people in Gaza are living the same reality, noting that even families in nearby camps who tried to pool resources to buy energy systems have been unable to afford them.

“We hope God brings relief … because we are truly left without any solutions, as if we were abandoned in the desert.”

Longstanding problem

On October 7, 2023, Hamas launched an attack on southern Israel, and Israel then began its war on Gaza.

More than two years on, Gaza has been decimated by Israeli attacks – on top of the more than 75,000 Palestinians killed.

But even before the war, Gaza faced daily rolling blackouts due to limited power imports from Israel and fuel shortages.

Israel, despite withdrawing its illegal settlements from Gaza in 2005, continued to control access into and out of the Palestinian enclave, and repeatedly attacked it.

And so, even in normal conditions, most households only received a few hours of electricity per day, relying on a fragile mix of imported supply and Gaza’s one power plant.

The situation escalated sharply after October 7, when Israel declared a “complete siege” on Gaza, cutting electricity supply and blocking fuel imports.

Within days, Gaza’s power plant shut down due to fuel depletion, and by October 11, 2023, the territory entered a full electricity blackout, according to United Nations agencies.

With no fuel entering and transmission lines cut, homes, hospitals, water systems and communication networks lost reliable access to power, shifting to limited and increasingly unsustainable generator use.

Since then, Gaza’s electricity infrastructure has continued to deteriorate due to both fuel shortages and widespread physical destruction of the grid. Generators remain the primary alternative but are severely constrained by fuel scarcity, affecting essential services such as healthcare, water production and telecommunications.

During the time between 2025 and 2026, Gaza’s power system is widely described as effectively non-functional, with electricity access fragmented, inconsistent and largely dependent on emergency solutions rather than a stable grid.

An opportunity

The severe electricity crisis has created an indirect source of income for Jamal Musbah, 50, who runs a mobile phone charging station powered by solar energy and a generator line.

Before the war, Jamal worked as a farmer and owned two agricultural plots on the eastern borders of Deir el-Balah. Today, they have been bulldozed and fall under Israeli control.

His charging station has instead become his main source of income, supporting his eight children.

“I had an energy system consisting of six panels, batteries, and a device, which I used for pumping water and irrigating the remaining land around my house before the war,” Jamal says to Al Jazeera.

As an alternative income source after the war and the electricity blackout in Gaza, Jamal repurposed his solar system to provide basic phone charging services to residents, though this came with major challenges.

“The demand for charging was extremely high, and my batteries were exhausted within the first months, as electricity became very scarce at home,” he adds.

However, things worsened when a neighbouring house was targeted, destroying four of his six solar panels, significantly reducing his capacity and income.

At the beginning of the service, Jamal also offered food refrigeration services alongside phone and battery charging, but after the damage and battery depletion, he had to stop those services.

“We used to charge about 100 to 200 phones daily. Now we only manage 50 to 60 at most due to reduced efficiency of the solar panels,” Jamal says, attributing this also to weather conditions, clouds and the winter season, when solar efficiency drops significantly.

“In winter, you look for alternatives to solar panels and turn to generators that barely work … the electricity crisis makes you feel like you are running in a never-ending cycle of suffering.”

His charging station now operates with a small system of two panels and one battery.

People from nearby areas, including university students and displaced families, rely on it due to a lack of alternatives and the inability to afford generator-based electricity subscriptions.

“My sons are university graduates and earn their living from this station. We charge 1 to 2 shekels per phone.”

Even though Jamal is able to make some money out of the crisis, he ultimately faces the same hardships as others in Gaza do.

“Economic hardship has affected all of us … even basic services like phone charging have become a heavy burden. There are no local solutions to this crisis.”

“The only real and lasting solution is the official restoration of electricity to the Gaza Strip.”

Mérida, March 23, 2026 (venezuelanalysis.com) – The Venezuelan government announced a 45-day electricity saving plan as extreme temperatures and regional outages impact Venezuela’s power grid. 

The announcement, made by Acting President Delcy Rodríguez on Saturday, comes on the heels of recurring blackouts, particularly in western states. 

“We are entering a period where solar radiation will impact our territory directly, intensifying heat and drought across the country,” Rodríguez stated during a televised cabinet meeting with officials responsible for the electricity and infrastructure portfolios.

She explained that the “perpendicular passage” of solar rays would significantly increase energy demand for cooling. Alongside drought forecasts, officials expect a greater strain on Venezuela’s electricity generation and transmission infrastructure.

As part of the contingency plan, the Ministry of Electric Energy is set to publish a protocol urging reduced air-conditioning use other rationing measures. In addition, the government has authorized the deployment of thermal drones to monitor high-temperature areas and prevent forest fires from compromising transmission lines.

In March 2025, the Nicolás Maduro administration implemented a similar electricity-savings plan and was compelled to reduce public sector work hours to half a day to ease demand. While the 2025 measures were temporary, the recurrence of shortages underscores the systemic vulnerabilities of the electric grid.

Last Friday, residents in Zulia, Táchira, Mérida, and Trujillo experienced widespread power outages lasting several hours. Local media outlets in the Andean region reported that some sectors are facing daily rationing of up to four hours. Nationwide electricity fluctuations were likewise registered on Monday, with parts of Caracas suffering temporary outages.

The origins of Venezuela’s electrical instability extend over a decade, culminating in the 2019 widespread nationwide blackouts that authorities blamed on “cyber-sabotage.” The alleged attacks compounded infrastructure hard-hit by years of economic sanctions, as well as underinvestment, inadequate maintenance, and the departure of skilled personnel.

Venezuela’s electric grid remains heavily dependent on the Simón Bolívar Hydroelectric Plant, also known as the Guri Dam, in southeastern Bolívar state, which provides approximately 80 percent of the nation’s power. 

However, the transmission lines stretching from the southeast to the western border are often unable to handle the load, with thermoelectric plants in the region unable to cover the additional demand. Current estimates indicate that while Venezuela has an installed generation capacity of approximately 34 gigawatts (GW), only around 12 to 14 GW are currently operational.

Sanctions and push for private investment

In her Saturday address, Rodríguez reiterated the damage caused by US-led unilateral coercive measures and called for their removal. The Venezuelan acting president argued that sanctions hampered the state’s capacity to procure essential technology and components from international suppliers.

“The blockade has impeded the full recovery of this essential service,” Rodríguez said. “Though we have recovered capacity through our own efforts, sanctions limit our response to a demand that grows alongside the economy.”

The Venezuelan government has also announced plans to scale back state control over the electricity sector in order to attract private investment. Earlier this month, authorities unveiled a “pilot plan” to promote foreign investment into the electric grid, following similar blueprints from the oil industry.

Under the proposed framework, the government aims to update the Organic Law of the Electricity System (LOSSE) to allow private companies to assume control of generation and distribution through joint ventures.

According to the Venezuelan Chamber of Construction (CVC), a preliminary investment of US $1.29 billion could lead to the reincorporation of over 6,300 MW to the grid in two phases. The CVC is specifically promoting a project with the Latin America Development Bank to stabilize 2,000 MW in the central industrial region.

The new electricity management model would allow private actors to take control of specific “industrial nodes,” ensuring a reliable supply for manufacturing while retaining a portion of the proceeds to cover maintenance costs.

However, the immediate focus for the Venezuelan executive remains on electricity rationing. Rodríguez concluded her address by calling for “national consciousness,” urging the public to see energy saving not just as a government mandate, but as a collective necessity to navigate the coming weeks of extreme heat and drought.

Edited by Ricardo Vaz in Caracas.

HAVANA — Reggaeton boomed in a neighborhood bar in Old Havana on a recent night, when, suddenly, the music stopped and everything went dark.

The customers groaned. Another blackout.

A U.S. blockade on oil shipments to Cuba has plunged the island into its worst energy crisis in modern history. The country’s already cratering economy now teeters on the verge of collapse, with vehicles idled by a lack of gas, hospitals forced to cancel surgeries and millions living without a steady supply of electricity and water.

It is the result of a calculated pressure campaign by President Trump, whose administration is negotiating with Cuba’s leaders over the future of the communist-ruled Caribbean island.

People fed up with rolling blackouts have staged sporadic protests in recent days, banging pots and shouting slogans against the government, rare demonstrations in a country known for repressing dissent.

Some power outages hit isolated areas, but in recent weeks Cuba has experienced three island-wide blackouts. The most recent one struck Saturday night and continued into Sunday.

Two men sell food from a cart in front of the Kempinski hotel Friday night in Havana.

As Havana and Washington hash out a possible deal — which is likely to include some form of economic opening, and perhaps limited changes to Cuba’s leadership — many people here say they feel like pawns in a geopolitical game beyond their control.

Some, like those at the bar, who kept drinking in the dark after the power vanished, say they have little choice but to adjust to a life where flushing a toilet, cooking a pot of rice or riding a bus to work is now considered a luxury.

“The U.S. is trying to punish the Cuban government,” said one customer, named Rolando. “But it’s the people who are suffering.”

Cuba’s struggles long predate the oil embargo. For years, Cubans have complained of food shortages, crumbling public services and political repression. Demographers say Cuba is undergoing one of the world’s fastest population declines — a 25% drop in just four years — as birth rates fall and emigration soars.

Cuban President Miguel Díaz-Canel blames “genocidal” economic, financial and trade restrictions imposed by the United States in the decades since Fidel Castro’s army toppled the U.S.-backed dictator Fulgencio Batista in 1959.

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1. Young people play dominoes in the streets of Old Havana. 2. A woman reacts to her granddaughter at a bar in Old Havana. (Natalia Favre/For The Times)

But many Cubans blame their own leaders for mismanaging the economy — and straying from the ideals of Castro’s revolution. They were raised to believe in an implicit social contract, which maintained that while Cubans might not have luxuries or be allowed all civil liberties, they would always have free education and healthcare, a place to sleep and enough to eat.

“The pact has failed,” said Juan Carlos Albizu-Campos Espiñeira, an economist at the Christian Center for Reflection and Dialogue in Havana.

He faults the government for soaring inflation and a misguided investment strategy that pumped money into the tourism industry while neglecting fundamental sectors like industry and healthcare.

“This is the worst moment in Cuba’s history,” he said. “But things were really bad before this.”

The Vedado neighborhood in Havana.

Life has long been challenging for Pablo Barrueto, 63, who works mornings at a construction site and now spends afternoons filling plastic jugs from a tap on the street and hauling them up narrow stairwells to neighbors who have been without water for weeks.

His two jobs barely enough cover food for him and his partner, Maribel Estrada, 55, who earns $5 monthly as a security guard at a state-run museum.

The pair, who live in a cramped studio apartment in a crumbling colonial-era building, can’t afford butter or mayonnaise, so breakfast is a piece of plain bread. Barrueto said he often goes to bed hungry. It has been years since he has tasted pork or beef.

“I work so hard,” said Barrueto, who on a recent afternoon was cooking beans in a pair of tattered jeans. “But I don’t see the fruits of my labor.”

Pablo Barrueto, center, fills water containers from a public tap after more than 17 days without running water.

Estrada has developed ulcers on her legs, but the doctor who prescribed her antibiotics said she wouldn’t be able to find them on the empty shelves of state-run pharmacies. On the black market, the medication was being sold for more than what Estrada makes in a month.

“If I lived in another country, my legs wouldn’t look like this,” she said, rolling up her pants to show the chronic sores on her calves.

Estrada said she was reaching a point where she would accept anything that would improve her life, even U.S. intervention.

“If things don’t get better, they should just hand over the country to Trump,” she said.

The U.S. has long played a major role in Cuban history, from its involvement in the island’s war of independence from Spain to the heavy hand of American companies in Cuba’s sugar industry. Washington repeatedly backed unpopular leaders who protected U.S. interests, including Batista, whose corrupt and repressive regime sparked support for the Cuban Revolution.

For decades, the island was celebrated by U.S. critics worldwide as a scrappy symbol of anti-imperialism and a utopic experiment in socialism. But in recent years, amid a government crackdown on dissent, some of that support has faded.

A man holds his ration book and cash while waiting to collect his daily bread in Havana.

The Trump administration’s bellicose new push to dominate Latin America with tariffs and military intervention has scared allies who in the past might have come to Cuba’s rescue.

Mexico, Brazil and Colombia, all led by leftists, have declined to provide emergency fuel shipments in recent months out of fear of angering Trump.

The current crisis was set in motion on Jan. 3, when the U.S. launched a surprise attack on Venezuela, killing 32 Cuban security guards stationed there — in addition to scores of Venezuelan troops and civilians — and capturing President Nicolás Maduro.

As the U.S. seized control of Venezuela’s oil industry, the impacts immediately rocked Cuba, which had long relied on subsidized oil shipments from Maduro’s regime.

Cuba’s leaders say the country has not received a single fuel shipment in three months, debilitating an economy that depends on oil to generate the electricity.

There is little relief in sight.

An employee of a MIPYME sells vegetables and other goods to a customer Friday in Havana.

A state-owned Russian oil tanker loaded with 750,000 barrels of crude is currently crossing the Atlantic. It’s unclear whether the U.S. will try to stop the ship from reaching Cuba, where the oil, once refined, could provide Havana with energy for several weeks.

At the same time, the “Nuestra América” humanitarian convoy is in the process of delivering more than 20 tons of critical supplies to Cuba, some of which will arrive by boat in the coming days.

David Adler, a general coordinator of Progressive International, a global leftist group that helped organize the flotilla, said he hoped the delivery of medicine, food, baby formula and solar panels would highlight the severity of Trump’s restrictions on Cuba.

“We’re beginning to come to grips with the fact that there will be mothers and children and elderly and sick people who will die simply as a result of this senseless and cruel and criminal policy,” Adler said. “Why are we inflicting such cruel punishment on a country that does not represent any threat to the United States?”

In Cuba, where many fear the prospect of no electricity come summer, with its muggy heat and swarms of disease-carrying mosquitoes, people are getting creative. With virtually no public transport and few drivers able to find — or afford — gas that costs more than $5 a gallon, many people have resumed riding bicycles. Others have fashioned electric-powered scooters into slow-moving taxis.

Young people talk in the street in central Havana.

One man in the small town of Aguacate made headlines after he modified his 1980 Fiat Polski to run on charcoal, the same fuel many people here are now cooking with.

Camila Hernández, who works at Havana’s airport, had hoped to celebrate her 21st birthday at home with friends, eating and dancing. “It would have been wonderful,” she said.

But it had been weeks without regular electricity in the home she shares with her parents and boyfriend. His family’s home had power — but lacked water.

To avoid yet another night sitting in the darkness, she marked her birthday by strolling to the Paseo del Prado, an iconic boulevard not far from the waterfront cooled by a light sea breeze.

Her boyfriend’s mother, Yusmary Salas, 47, said poor living conditions were testing her patience. “I can’t even go to the bathroom without planning how I will flush the toilet,” she said. She said she is hungry for change, but has no idea what shape it will take.

Trump insists he “can do whatever I want” in Cuba, and recently said he expects to have the “honor” of “taking Cuba in some form.”

Pablo Barrueto carries a water container up to his home in Old Havana.

Such talk rattles many here who grew up in a country where government buildings still bear the revolutionary motto: “Homeland or death, we will prevail.”

Salas said she hopes that whatever comes next is peaceful, and that Cubans, long a proud people, have their dignity restored. And their power restored, too.

At the darkened bar in Old Havana, workers scrambled to light candles and serve beer that, without refrigeration, would soon go warm. Someone with a battery-powered speaker hit “play” on a song, the 2004 Daddy Yankee hit “Gasolina.”

“Dáme más gasolina!” they sang together. “Give me more gasoline!”