The Cubans without a stable roof over their heads

The Cubans without a stable roof over their heads

By Sarah Rainsford

BBC News, Havana



Ten families defied the risks and lived in the old convent before it

collapsed



On Monday morning, a column collapsed bringing four storeys of the old

convent crashing down and burying 50-year-old Maria Isabel Fernandez

under the rubble.



For 24 hours, rescue teams battled to reach her.



When their radars and even specially trained sniffer rabbits found no

signs of life, they moved to securing the rest of the ruins and

recovering her body.



The story of Ms Fernandez is not an unusual one in a city where neglect,

lack of funds and a series of devastating hurricanes have left chunks of

the housing stock in a poor to perilous state.



Officials say that on average two buildings completely collapse in

Havana every month.



Stark choices



The old convent where Ms Fernandez lived was used as a school after the

1959 Cuban revolution, until part of a corridor caved in and the

children had to be relocated.



But 10 families went on living there.



"We had nowhere else to go," one of the residents told me, as family and

friends formed a human chain behind him to recover what remained of

their belongings.



"The conditions were terrible. But it was that, or live in the street -

and we have children. We needed a roof over our heads," he said.



As we talked, a crowd gathered.



The residents told me they went to the housing authorities for help just

last week, after the first support column cracked.



A meeting to discuss the situation had been planned - for Monday night.



"No-one came before," a resident called Ismailo said, gesturing towards

a huddle of local government officials and police nearby.



"Now they're all here."



Revolutionary ideals



It was one of the tenets of Cuba's communist revolution that everyone

had the right to a house. But today's harsh economic reality has knocked

a dent in that ideal.



The most recent figures reveal a deficit of some 600,000 houses on the

island; this month the state housing institute admitted it cannot put up

new properties fast enough.



A move to allow Cubans to build their own houses for the first time,

rather than depend on the state, has been a slow starter.



The result is serious overcrowding and thousands stuck in supposedly

temporary housing for many years, a situation that is especially acute

in the capital.



Worst of all are the building collapses, and it is not just a problem of

the suburbs.



Inside Malecon 161, on Havana's sun-soaked seafront, you have to pick

your way through wooden props supporting the ceiling to reach the empty

space where several apartments used to be.



It is five years since part of an abandoned building standing behind it

collapsed and destroyed the apartments.



One man was killed, but 20 people are still here amid the ruins, waiting

to be rehoused.



"When it rains heavily, like recently, I do get alarmed," pensioner Jose

Ramon admits.



He says some "priority" cases were given flats on the city's outskirts,

other neighbours are in state-run shelters nearby.



"I sometimes go outside because I'm afraid the building won't hold," he

says.



"I pretend I'm contemplating the downpour, but in fact I'm keeping my

eye on the building."



Construction brigade

Further down the Malecon, another precarious-looking building has

finally been fenced off for demolition.



Some of its residents were rehoused to far-flung suburbs; others secured

flats nearby. The rest have squeezed in with family or moved into state

shelters while they wait for a new home to be finished.



The fate of that new building offers some insight into Cuba's housing

shortage.



Construction began four years ago, but neighbours say there were never

enough workers for the job and the much-coveted building supplies were

being pilfered.



But this month, a new boss was drafted in with materials and orders to

finish the place - and the block is at last taking shape.



In Cuban socialist style, residents have joined the "construction

brigade" to help out.



"It's over a year since we were moved out of our house because it was

going to collapse," former resident Graviela recalls, saying she is

currently living with relatives.



"Now we're here, waiting for this place to be finished, so we can be happy."



'No solutions'

But the dire lack of such alternatives has helped contribute to

tragedies like the one this week in Vibora.



"The need for housing is higher than the capacity we have to build. It

is a problem," admitted Ines Barroso, a local government official

outside the collapsed convent.



She said solutions were sought over the years to provide better housing

for the 10 families who lived there.



An initial plan to reinforce and renovate the convent was ruled out. The

families were then to be offered land and credit to build their own

houses. But they say neither materialised.



Now that the worst has happened, some cannot contain their anger.



"They've been promising solutions for years. But it's all been lies and

we're tired of it. Now we've lost a woman who was like a mother to me,"

Yurliany Tamayo cried, unusually vocal for Cuba.



She says she managed to snatch her own child back from the edge, just in

time.



Ms Tamayo and the other residents are staying with friends for now; the

authorities have yet to propose a more permanent solution.



But as the digger continues its slow work shifting the rubble, there is

already concern about the parts of the building still standing.



"If they don't demolish this place now, people will move in here," one

resident warned.



"We would never take the risk after what happened here. But others would

prefer to be here than to have nowhere."



Source: "BBC News - The Cubans without a stable roof over their heads" -

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-latin-america-24239202