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BAD BUNNY’S LAST DANCE AT EL CHOLISEO WAS A LOVE LETTER TO PUERTO RICO

Updated: Sep 21


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On Saturday night, Puerto Rico stood still. At the Coliseo José Miguel Agrelot, affectionately known as El Choliseo, Bad Bunny gave his island one last gift: No Me Quiero Ir de Aqui: Una Más. It was more than a concert, more than the last heartbeat of his record-breaking residency. It was a celebration of culture, a remembrance of pain, and a dream of tomorrow, carried from Puerto Rico to the world through Amazon Prime’s gaze. 


For eleven weeks, Benito Antonio Martinez Ocasio had turned the Choliseo into Puerto Rico’s pulsing heart. This last gathering, though, on September 20, carried the weight of memory. The date marked eight years since Hurricane Maria plunged the island into darkness, a storm that stole thousands of lives and reshaped Puerto Rican identity. Maria was never just a meteorological disaster: it was a humanitarian crisis, worsened by fragile infrastructure and the indifference of both Puerto Rico’s leaders and the U.S. government. For nearly eleven months, parts of the island lived without power, but on this night, the livestream cast Puerto Rico in a light the whole world could not look away from. 


The night unfolded like a play in three acts, each scene rooted in Puerto Rico’s souls. The opening scene was draped in lush greenery, echoing the cerros of the island’s countryside. At center stage stood a towering billboard, repurposed as a platform for Benito to wander and sing, while dancers spun in folkloric dress. Here, he poured out his emotional heartbreak songs, the ones that first revealed his vulnerability beneath the global stardom. When he launched into El Apagón and suddenly plunged the arena into darkness, the moment was more than theatrics. The silence of thousands in the Choliseo felt like collective remembrance. 

 

Then came La Casita, a replica of the modest homes that dot Puerto Rico’s neighborhoods, glowing with the intimacy of a barrio party. Music spilled from the windows, bodies gathered on the porch, and the night transformed into a perreo procession. On the roof, he turned the night into a street bash. Tití Me Preguntó, Yo Perreo Sola, and Safaera, kept the arena shaking, honoring the irrepressible joy Boricua’s carry even in the face of hardship. 


The final act was a return to the main stage, but also to heritage. His band, dressed in burgundy suits like the salsa orchestras of the ‘70s, filled the stage with brass and rhythm. Bad Bunny, himself, stepped forward crowned with a Jibaro hat, the emblem of Puerto Rico’s rural heart. He surprised the crowd with a reimagined salsa rendition of his hit Callaíta, before slipping into the salsa-infused rhythms of his latest album, performing Baile Inolvidable and La Mudanza, binding global stardom to ancestral roots. 


Part of Una Más’s power was its refusal to be just about Bad Bunny. The show became a reunion and a bridge across eras. Ñengo Flow appeared in a jersey marked “4645”, honoring those that had passed in the storm, joining Jowell & Randy on the roof of la casita for Safaera. Arcángel and De La Ghetto reignited the spark of old-school reggeatón. Los Pleneros de la Cresta lifted the rhythm of plena with Café con Ron, while fresh voices like RaiNao, Chuwi, and Dei V carried the torch of the island’s future sound. The emotional peak came with Mark Anthony. When he and Bad Bunny stood side by side to sing Preciosa, Puerto Rico’s unofficial anthem written in 1937. For a few minutes, the island was not just remembered but exalted. 


What lingered most was not just the music but the vision. The Amazon Prime livestream was not just a spectacle, but Benito’s way of amplifying his island and channeling visibility into tangible change. Through his Good Bunny Foundation and partnerships with Amazon, he tied the performance to initiatives in education, disaster preparedness, and commerce. Plans to expand STEM programs, build hurricane-ready learning centers, and launch comPRa Local, an online storefront for Puerto Rican goods, formed the backbone of the business deal. 


The impact has stretched far beyond that partnership. Over the course of its run, Bad Bunny’s residency has already generated an estimated $400 million in economic activity, including $250 million in direct spending tied to the events. The ripple touched nearly every corner of the island, from hotels and restaurants, to stagehands and artisans. The residency became proof that art and commerce can nourish one another, transforming music into an engine of community revival. 


By the time the lights dimmer for the last time, it was clear that Una Más was a proclamation. Puerto Rico is not just its hardships, not just its diaspora, nor just the scars left by disaster. It is rhythm, resilience, memory, invention all embodied in of the island{s most famous voices. 


Bad Bunny may have ended his residency, but the night cemented his role as Puerto Rico’s global ambassador. As he sang under the brim of his Jibaro hat, surrounded by artists spanning generations, he sang with a clarity of purpose: the island will not be kept in darkness. 


Written by: Ana Oquendo



 
 
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