Hilda Molina and I share a couple of rare “privileges”; we were both mentioned in the prologue of the book Fidel, Bolivia and Something More and we were both denied, on several occasions, permission to leave Cuba. In her case the immigration authorities justified this refusal based on her past as a scientist. They spread the rumor that she was in possession of classified information that should not be known beyond our borders. Many of us suspected, however, that this wasn’t the real reason for keeping her here, rather it was the whim of a man who demanded her forced imprisonment.
My “crime” is located in the future, in that part of tomorrow where neither the well-known prologue writer nor the limitations on leaving the Island will exist. My detention is not about what I’ve done but about what I might do; the “fault” falls on this citizen I am not, yet, but who is incubating in this blog. In any event the punishment is the same for both, because a system based on limits, controls and closures knows only how to penalize by locking up. For Hilda this sanction just ended; although one accused never again sleeps peacefully, faced with the fear of returning to her cell.
I am happy for her family and for her, but troubled by the existence of those who decide who leaves and who enters Cuba. I feel sorry for someone whose reunification with her family depends on a long negotiation between parties, governments and presidents. I see an aging woman who will finally be able to meet her grandchildren and whom nothing can compensate for so many years of loneliness and anguish. I can only suggest that she not harbor resentment against her jailers, because they are imprisoned today by their power, their fear and the inevitable proximity of their end.