“Closed-point syndrome” resurfaces in Sancti Spíritus
The phenomenon of shuttered points of sale has resurfaced in Sancti Spíritus.
This is nothing new. It has occurred whenever state authorities have attempted to enforce compliance and address various types of violations most frequently regarding pricing.
The latest wave of widespread closures in Sancti Spíritus has been ongoing for days, coinciding with comprehensive inspections of economic actors focusing on three areas: pricing, tax compliance, and electronic payment systems.
Some businesses have been shut down at the behest of the state economic oversight agencies participating in the operation—which is led by the government and the Communist Party. However, these represent the minority, even though preliminary figures indicate that dozens of locations have been closed due to various irregularities and illegalities.
Most businesses have voluntarily closed their doors to avoid the measures being implemented during the inspections—such as fines amounting to thousands of pesos levied when a violation is confirmed on-site—even though the initiative’s stated goal was essentially to foster dialogue.
Owners have also opted to close voluntarily—as this reporter has confirmed through their own statements—either to wait out this “fever” or surge of inspections, or because information regarding which areas the inspection teams are visiting each day has been leaked; this suggests a form of collusion—or corruption, to call it by its proper name.
As I mentioned earlier, this is not the first time sales points have been shut down in Sancti Spíritus. This phenomenon became a recurring pattern amidst national exercises aimed at preventing and combating crime and other irregularities—efforts rooted in the goal of correcting distortions.
Just over a year ago, we aired a commentary on this very station describing the situation as a sort of “closed-stall roulette” or a game of cat and mouse. If the practice of shutting down these points has now become widespread in Sancti Spíritus after such a short time, it is because the seeds sown back then have yielded today’s bitter harvest.
In other words: during this period, the stalls that were closed reopened almost immediately after the inspections passed; the “nothing-will-happen” syndrome and a sense of impunity took over the sales counters, amounting to a brazen mockery of State authority.
As I noted back then: the “mice”—the owners of these private stalls—hide under any pretext, closing up shop until the “cat” (the inspection and oversight teams) has moved on. Reports from the new Provincial Directorate of Oversight acknowledge that the impact of these measures has been negligible so far, a fact that speaks to the inaction of local governments.
But let’s return to the point where life gets complicated for consumers. Knowing they are the ones largely sustaining these vendors’ operations, many outlet owners—while shutting down in the face of official crackdowns—simply reopen under the cover of the black market, operating out of their homes or via social media, where these comprehensive enforcement sweeps apparently do not reach.
That is where consumers end up paying a premium—seemingly covering the very risk involved in illicit sales. This, along with other economic factors we will examine later, causes the price of a single egg to jump from 100 pesos to 150 or more within hours, while a bottle of cooking oil hovers around 4,000 or even 5,000 pesos. And in this environment, governed by the law of the jungle and desperation, consumers are forced to pay in cash.
This brings us to one of the most chaotic aspects of the phenomenon. Even comprehensive enforcement efforts have failed to ensure compliance with online payment mandates; while some outlets have been shut down for this reason, many that have managed to stay in business persist in refusing to accept digital payment platforms—or do so only by imposing a steep surcharge.
Bank data indicate that, recently—and under pressure from enforcement measures—some operators have moved to reactivate or open official business accounts. However, they remain a minority when one considers that there are over 20,000 self-employed workers and around 400 MSMEs in the province—not to mention the illegal and virtual sales operations, which likely double those figures.
In short, the “closed-stall syndrome” has taken hold. Given the sheer exhaustion involved—and the fact that it is impossible to station an inspector at every location around the clock—forcing them open through enforcement does not seem like the most effective strategy, especially since the state lacks the means to compete with the goods they offer; still, something is better than nothing.
The question remains: how many will truly stay shut down? What will become of those that voluntarily closed up shop in this sort of “not-so-silent” strike? The answers to these questions—unlike the stalls themselves—remain wide open.
