Havana - What was supposed to ease the daily routine for Cubans amidst fuel shortages has become yet another symbol of the country's economic crisis . Developed by the Cuban technology company Xetid and adopted by the government to organize queues and services, the Ticket app has come to regulate everything from banking services to gasoline supplies on the island.

In practice, however, the digital platform has added new layers of waiting and bureaucracy to the daily lives of the population. To obtain fuel, drivers have become dependent on notifications sent by the system, which sets dates and times for fuel purchases, limited to only 20 liters per person per month. In many cases, according to reports from Cubans interviewed by NeoFeed , the waiting time can last weeks or even months.

Initially created as a reservation platform for various services, Ticket came to be used by the Cuban government as a mechanism to control fuel distribution amidst the energy crisis that has plagued the island in recent years.

Through the app, users choose gas stations and times, and join a kind of virtual queue to try to refuel. The system is also used for scheduling appointments at banks, theaters, cinemas, and other public and private services.

The promise was to reduce physical queues and organize demand. But, faced with low fuel supply, the app ended up becoming just a digital rationing tool.

“The system assigns you a day, during the week or month, to be able to buy a limited quantity,” reports Héctor González*, a Cuban entrepreneur in the tourism sector.

Jorge Martínez*, who owns apartments rented to tourists and is responsible for airport transfer services, states that the shortage directly affects the work routine of drivers and small private entrepreneurs, one of the few sectors that have grown in the Cuban economy in recent years.

"The drivers who need to keep working end up buying gasoline at whatever price it is at that moment," he says.

Unable to obtain fuel regularly through official channels, many Cubans have turned to the informal fuel market, which has expanded alongside the state system.

According to Martínez, the parallel market operates in a decentralized manner, based on networks of acquaintances who store fuel, divert gasoline from vehicles, or resell previously acquired stock.

"It's not an organized mafia. It's one person knowing the other, and the other knowing each other," he says.

In this informal market, prices skyrocketed. Drivers reportedly paid between 4,000 and 6,000 Cuban pesos per liter of gasoline, equivalent to approximately US$8 to US$12. Diesel, which is slightly cheaper, was being traded for between 2,000 and 3,000 Cuban pesos.

"It's expensive even for a rich country. Imagine for us, who don't have decent salaries," he says.

In practice, the Ticket app added new layers of waiting and bureaucracy to the daily lives of Cubans (Photo: Ticket Reproduction)

The supply crisis is occurring amid growing difficulties for Cuba in importing fuel. The government attributes part of the problem to the tightening of US economic sanctions, financial restrictions, and increased international transportation and import costs.

In recent years, gasoline shortages have directly affected sectors considered strategic to the Cuban economy, such as tourism, private transportation, and small businesses. On the streets of Havana, drivers of classic American cars, which have become a symbol of the island and an important tourist attraction, have also faced difficulties keeping their vehicles running.

Jorge Martínez states that the situation has worsened in recent months. "Before, at least there was some hope of getting it through Ticket. Now, many people no longer even count on that," he says.

Partial opening

In a statement released on May 12, the Cuban Ministry of Finance and Prices stated that economic and energy pressure on the island had caused a "drastic decrease" in fuel supplies and announced profound changes to the sector's marketing model.

Three days later, the government began allowing variable prices for fuels sold in dollars and opened the door for multiple economic actors to import and market gasoline in the country. In practice, Cuba abandoned the old model of a single subsidized price and began a partial relaxation of the state monopoly over the sector.

The new system allows private or semi-private companies to import fuel directly, with prices set according to freight costs, insurance, suppliers, and fluctuations in the international market.

This measure represents another move by the Cuban government towards a hybrid economy, in which state structures coexist with slight openings to the private sector. In recent years, Havana has begun to allow the expansion of micro, small and medium-sized enterprises, as well as the private import of some products and services.

According to the entrepreneur, some of these companies have indirect relationships with members of the Cuban government itself. "It's like a mask," he says.

The change also signals the weakening of Ticket itself as a central distribution tool. Or, as he summarizes: "Ticket is dead."

Even with the easing of restrictions, the cost remains far beyond the financial reach of most of the Cuban population. "The truth is, we don't have the savings to pay four, five, or six dollars. But it's still better than paying ten or twelve," he says.

Between digital queues, chronic shortages, and dollar-denominated prices, filling up a car in Cuba has ceased to be just an everyday task. It has become a portrait of the silent transformation of the island's economy, increasingly marked by the coexistence of state control, the informal market, and partial openness to the private sector.

*The names of the interviewees have been changed at their request to avoid possible reprisals from the Cuban government.