At the Church of the Holy Spirit in Old Havana, nearly 50 elderly residents gather three times a week for a free lunch of rice, beans, ground meat and coffee, a modest but essential supplement for pensioners whose monthly incomes often amount to less than $10 at informal exchange rates.

Among them is 84-year-old retired chemical engineer Carmen Casado, who receives a monthly pension of 2,000 Cuban pesos, worth roughly $4 on the informal market. Living alone, without children or remittances from relatives abroad, she relies on church meals in addition to the limited bread, rice and beans available through Cuba’s state-run ration stores.“This is a lifeline for us retirees with small pensions,” Casado said.

“What we get from the bodegas alone is not enough.”Older Cubans, many of them former state employees such as teachers, doctors, nurses and technicians, have been among the hardest hit by the worsening downturn, which intensified this year following an oil embargo imposed by U.S. President Donald Trump.

The crisis has brought further cuts to subsidized goods that for decades formed the backbone of Cuba’s social safety net, while rising shortages and inflation have eroded the value of fixed pensions.At the same time, the migration of younger Cubans has left many elderly residents isolated, without family members to provide financial support or day-to-day care.

Cuba was already one of Latin America’s oldest societies before the latest wave of emigration. By the end of 2024, nearly 26% of the population was aged 60 or older, according to Cuba’s National Bureau of Statistics, compared with a regional average of 14.2% reported by the U.N. Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean (ECLAC).Over the last five years, Cuba’s population has declined by nearly 1.5 million, largely because of outward migration.

The number of residents on the island has fallen from 11.1 million to 9.7 million.The demographic shift is increasingly visible in Havana, where elderly residents stand in long lines for rationed food, sell small items such as cigarettes on the streets or search for assistance from churches and state institutions.

The pressure has prompted the government to authorize private entrepreneurs to operate elder-care services and residential facilities, a notable shift in a country where social services have traditionally remained under state control.Casado says she still considers herself fortunate. At 84, she remains physically independent, climbs the stairs to her aging apartment without a cane and needs only blood pressure medication, which she says is still available through state pharmacies.

Born in 1942, she has lived through the Cuban Revolution, the 1962 missile crisis, the Soviet-backed economic boom of the 1970s and 1980s, and the severe shortages of the post-Soviet “Special Period.”Despite today’s hardships, she continues to place responsibility for Cuba’s economic difficulties largely on the United States.

“We’re doing everything we can here to move the country forward,” she said. “But the thing is, we have a very powerful enemy, and he’s right there, right on our doorstep.”

The hardship has intensified since the beginning of the year following an oil embargo imposed by U.S. President Donald Trump, worsening fuel shortages and compounding a prolonged economic downturn that has strained food supplies, transportation and public services across the communist-run island.

At the Church of the Holy Spirit in Old Havana, nearly 50 elderly residents gather three times a week for a free lunch of ground meat, rice, red beans, crackers and Cuban coffee — a modest meal that many describe as essential.“This is a lifeline for us retirees with small pensions,” said 84-year-old Carmen Casado, a retired chemical engineer whose monthly pension of 2,000 Cuban pesos is worth about $4 at the informal exchange rate widely used in daily transactions.Casado lives alone, has no children and receives no remittances from relatives abroad.

She said the food supplements the limited rations of bread, rice and beans available through Cuba’s state-run subsidized stores, known as bodegas.“What we get from the bodegas alone is not enough,” she said.Older Cubans, many of them former state employees including teachers, doctors, nurses and technicians, are among the groups hardest hit by the downturn.

Monthly pensions for many retirees remain below $10, while access to subsidized goods has narrowed and inflation has sharply reduced purchasing power.At the same time, the country’s aging population and the mass departure of younger Cubans have deepened social isolation for many elderly residents.

According to Cuba’s National Bureau of Statistics, nearly 26% of the population was aged 60 or older by the end of 2024, almost double the Latin American regional average of 14.2% reported by the U.N. Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean (ECLAC).Over the past five years, Cuba’s population has declined by nearly 1.5 million people, largely due to migration, reducing the island’s resident population from 11.1 million to about 9.7 million.

The impact is visible across Havana, where elderly people often wait alone in long lines for rationed bread and rice or search through refuse for recyclable materials and food scraps.The severity of the problem has prompted the Cuban government to authorize private entrepreneurs to operate elder care services and residential facilities, a notable shift in a system historically dominated by state control.

Casado said she still considers herself fortunate. She remains physically independent, walks without assistance and manages her household alone in a deteriorating 19th-century building in the capital.Born in 1942, she lived through the Cuban Revolution, the 1962 missile crisis and the severe economic collapse that followed the fall of the Soviet Union in the 1990s.

Like many of her generation, she said she continues to support the government despite worsening living conditions and attributes much of the country’s hardship to U.S. policy.“We’re doing everything we can here to move the country forward,” she said. “But the thing is, we have a very powerful enemy, and he’s right there, right on our doorstep.