At the tip of the Great Island, electricity has become a fleeting visitor. It comes and goes as it pleases, leaving behind only silence and thawing freezers. Power cuts are the norm, a way of governing. Shop owners tally their losses, restaurateurs watch their supplies turn to waste, artisans close their doors, families hope the next power restoration won't deliver a fatal blow to their television or refrigerator. Nothing is ever lacking, except the bill. It's always accurate at the counter. This shows that certain circuits function impeccably. To ease minds, JIRAMA explains. Eight generators have arrived. Two are already producing. Six others await a hangar, an outlet, some construction work... In short, they're waiting. Meanwhile, Enelec supplies only 2 MW when 11.1 MW is needed. The figures are exact. So are the blackouts. But in reality, residents no longer want technical speeches. They're asking for something extraordinary: to know what time they'll lose electricity. Yes, a simple load-shedding schedule. A mundane tool elsewhere, almost revolutionary here. In Diego, no one is asking for perfect service. They're simply asking for a bit of predictability. To organize a day, protect an appliance, save some meat or simply charge a phone without playing the lottery. When the temporary lasts too long, it always becomes a habit. Perhaps that's the most worrying breakdown—the day when an entire city plunged into darkness no longer seems abnormal, while the explanations remain perfectly illuminated.