Miguel* and Leila* have never met. They don’t even live on the same continent. She resides in Holguín, Cuba, while he lives in a province in Spain. Yet both wrote to elTOQUE for the same reason: their mothers, who live in Cuba, are being denied access to financial support sent from Spain in euros.

Miguel’s mother receives aid as a descendant of Galicians. Leila’s mother is entitled to a widow’s pension after the death of her Spanish husband 23 years ago. In both cases, Cuban banks are refusing to disburse the funds in euros, offering instead either Cuban pesos (CUP) or deposits in MLC (freely convertible currency). These alternatives significantly reduce the value of the assistance and violate the women’s rights as direct beneficiaries.

“That money is assigned to be paid out at Banco Popular de Ahorro (BPA) branches in Cuba, but they refuse to pay in euros,” says Miguel. “The Cuban state keeps the aid and gives recipients national currency or MLC instead.” His 88-year-old mother relies on that money to survive in a country with runaway inflation, where pensions are insufficient to cover the basic needs of elderly citizens.

Beneficiaries reject the bank’s options due to the vast gap between official and informal exchange rates. Cuban banks currently buy and sell euros at rates between 136 and 146 CUP, while on the informal market the euro fetches nearly three times as much. On July 1, 2025, elTOQUE’s reference rate listed the euro at 425 CUP.

Though not a new problem, the situation has worsened. Leila says issues with transfers began in early 2023. Her mother, who receives a €803 monthly widow’s pension from Spain’s social security system, had long been receiving the payments in euros without trouble—even after the CUC (a former Cuban currency pegged to the dollar) was phased out. “Now there are constant delays, and the bank never gives a clear explanation,” she says.

Spanish Aid for Cubans with Galician Roots

Each year, the regional government of Galicia offers financial assistance to Galicians and their descendants living abroad, including those wishing to return to Spain. Among these social assistance programs are individual subsidies for Galicians in economic need. These include support for those facing socioeconomic or health-related hardship, and for women who are survivors of gender-based violence.

According to the Xunta de Galicia, more than €4 million were allocated to these programs in 2024 and 2025. Last year alone, over 4,000 beneficiaries were based in Cuba. The region’s Secretary for Emigration, Antonio Rodríguez Miranda, even traveled to Havana to oversee the application process.

Miguel estimates that Cuba “is full of elderly people who receive yearly aid from Spain” through programs like these. In fact, according to Spain’s National Statistics Institute (INE), Cuba ranks third—after Argentina and Brazil—in number of residents with Galician ancestry: 50,656 as of 2024.

His mother applied for annual assistance available between October and November. The application required documents including a Spanish birth certificate, ration book copy, income statements for each household member, and a copy of the pension checkbook.

Leila’s mother’s widow’s pension, meanwhile, is a lifetime benefit granted to spouses or registered partners of deceased Spanish citizens. Like the Galician aid, it also requires a set of official documents to process.

“Each year the Spanish government slightly increases the pension amount,” Leila explains. “But for over a year now, the payments in Cuba have been delayed and are no longer delivered regularly.”

Banks Accused of Withholding Funds

According to Cuba’s central bank website, Banco Popular de Ahorro (BPA) was the first financial institution founded by the Revolution. It operates over 400 branches across nearly every Cuban municipality, serving both individuals and businesses.

“The BPA flat-out told us they had no cash,” says Miguel. “But everyone knows they receive money from Spain for these seniors, as well as from locals constantly exchanging currency to shop in MLC stores.”

He adds that banks manipulate payout schedules. “The checks these seniors receive have expiration dates—my mother’s is valid for two months—and the bank plays a game of misinformation. They tell you there’s no cash until the check expires. Then you’re forced to accept CUP or transfer it to a relative’s MLC card.” His mother lives in a municipality in Ciego de Ávila that is almost always last in the delivery schedule—what he calls “geographic fatalism.”

Miguel has encountered this situation repeatedly. Only once was his mother able to collect the money without incident. “The third-to-last time, my wife and I had to apply a lot of pressure to get the aid in cash. We threatened to go to the embassy, but they just kept telling us to get an MLC card.”

Leila, for her part, calls the option of receiving the pension in CUP “unacceptable.” “It would mean a substantial loss in value—in practice, it’s theft,” she says. Her 56-year-old mother is diabetic and hypertensive. “This pension is her only source of income. She has no support within Cuba.”

In May 2024, Leila filed a formal complaint with the bank over delays in receiving €786. The bank responded three weeks later with a letter saying they were doing their best to ensure cash availability, but that the issue was a nationwide problem beyond their control. As a “positive” note, they said her mother had received four payments totaling 70% of the intended transfers for the year. They offered apologies and asked for her understanding.

A Widespread Practice Without Accountability

The similarities between Leila’s and Miguel’s experiences point to a systemic issue—one that no authority is addressing. Institutional silence and bureaucratic hurdles are forcing many Cuban citizens with dual nationality to, in effect, give up their financial rights.

*Names have been changed at the request of those interviewed.