For many, the internet is a gateway to opportunity, a tool for education, and a platform for community. But for Ljubica Fuentes, a law student at Ecuador’s largest public university, it transformed into a relentless battlefield that followed her into the most private corners of her life. Her journey from a targeted student to a leading human rights lawyer highlights a terrifying global reality: digital violence is not a secondary form of abuse—it is real, it is pervasive, and it is escalating at an alarming rate.
The turning point for Fuentes occurred in a setting meant for intellectual growth—the university lecture hall. During a class, a professor openly declared that women were not “real lawyers” and were only enrolled in the program to find husbands. In an act of defiance that would define her career, Fuentes raised her hand to object. That single moment of courage marked the end of her anonymity and the beginning of a systematic campaign of harassment. Almost overnight, she was branded with the derogatory label “feminazi,” a term used by her peers to delegitimize her advocacy and silence her voice.
What began as sneers and whispers in the hallway quickly migrated into the digital realm, where the abuse took on a more sinister and inescapable form. Fuentes began receiving private messages on Instagram, demanding she cease her advocacy for women’s rights. On Facebook, anonymous users flooded her campus page with vitriol. The harassment soon turned into explicit threats of sexual violence and physical harm. The digital walls were closing in, but the terror was not confined to the screen. When she learned that an individual had been hired to physically assault her on campus, the boundary between the virtual and the physical vanished.
“I realized that I needed to be outside of the campus for my sanity and integrity,” Fuentes recalls. In a desperate bid for safety, she fled her home in the middle of the night to spend a semester abroad. This experience of being a “digital refugee” is what eventually fueled her mission to become a human rights lawyer and the founder of Ciudadanas del Mundo, an organization dedicated to eradicating gender-based violence in higher education.
The story of Ljubica Fuentes is a microcosm of a global epidemic. Statistics suggest that between 16 and 58 percent of women worldwide have experienced some form of technology-facilitated gender-based violence. A comprehensive study by the Economist Intelligence Unit found that 38 percent of women have been personally targeted by online abuse, while a staggering 85 percent have witnessed it being directed at others. These figures represent more than just data; they represent a fundamental threat to the safety and freedom of women in the 21st century.
The onset of the COVID-19 pandemic acted as a catalyst for this crisis. as the world moved into lockdown, the internet became the primary venue for work, education, and social interaction. This shift provided a new frontier for patriarchal control. Fuentes explains that the “patriarchy understood how to change in order to reach people inside their homes.” The anonymity of the internet acted as a shield for abusers, allowing them to hide behind fake user IDs and screen names. This “online bravery” empowered harassers to target women with a level of intensity and frequency that would be difficult to sustain in face-to-face interactions.
The psychological impact of digital violence is profound. For survivors like Fuentes, the internet becomes a space of constant surveillance. Every post, every shared opinion, and every online friendship is scrutinized by an invisible audience of detractors. This creates a “chilling effect,” where women are forced to self-censor to avoid becoming targets. “The constant scrutiny takes away your peace,” Fuentes says. “If you are a feminist, if you are an activist, you don’t have the right to be wrong. You are not allowed to even have a past.”
The risks are even higher for women in public-facing roles. According to a 2020 UNESCO report, 73 percent of women journalists have experienced online violence in the course of their work. For many, this digital harassment is a precursor to physical violence. When digital abuse escalates, it can lead to stalking, physical assault, and in the most extreme cases, femicide. Even when it does not result in physical harm, the consequences are devastating: women and girls are forced to abandon their education, withdraw from public discourse, and suffer from severe mental health crises, including depression and post-traumatic stress.
Despite the clear and present danger posed by digital violence, the global legal infrastructure remains woefully inadequate. Currently, less than half of the world’s countries have laws specifically designed to prosecute online abuse. This legislative vacuum leaves survivors with little to no recourse. Fuentes points out that even when laws do exist, the path to justice is often blocked by institutional apathy. Public defenders may discourage survivors from pursuing cases, citing long wait times—often five years or more—and a lack of specialized knowledge within the judicial system.
This normalization of the “justice gap” ensures that many survivors never report their abuse. Simultaneously, major technology companies have been slow to implement robust safety protocols or take accountability for the violence facilitated by their platforms. The burden of safety is almost always placed on the victim rather than the perpetrator or the platform.
In response to these systemic failures, Fuentes and her organization, Ciudadanas del Mundo, have stepped into the breach. They work with approximately 600 individuals annually, focusing on early violence prevention and assisting universities in developing comprehensive safety protocols. Their work includes providing legal support to survivors who would otherwise be lost in the system and mobilizing over 1,000 advocates each year for large-scale awareness campaigns.
Fuentes’ work is part of a broader movement supported by the ACT Programme, a landmark collaboration between the European Commission and UN Women. This initiative aims to strengthen feminist movements and ensure that policy changes are driven by the lived experiences of women on the ground. Fuentes serves on the Civil Society Steering Committee for the ACT Programme, advocating for young leaders and ensuring that the global response to digital violence is both practical and intersectional.
However, this vital work is currently under threat. Despite evidence showing that strong feminist organizations are the most critical factor in driving policy change, there have been unprecedented funding cuts to women’s rights groups globally. A recent UN Women survey conducted under the ACT Programme revealed that 34 percent of respondents have had to suspend programs due to funding shortages. Even more alarming, 89 percent of organizations reported a severe reduction in access to support services for survivors in their communities. These cuts are happening at a time when the need for such services has never been greater.
The fight against digital violence requires a multi-faceted approach. For governments, it means enacting and enforcing clear legislation that recognizes digital abuse as a criminal offense. For universities, it means creating safe environments where students can report harassment without fear of retaliation. For tech companies, it means designing platforms with safety as a core feature rather than an afterthought.
Fuentes also offers advice for individual women and girls navigating these treacherous waters. She emphasizes the importance of documenting abuse, seeking community support, and refusing to be silenced. Her own journey serves as a testament to the power of persistence. Years after being driven from her campus, Fuentes served as the legal representative in a case against the very professor whose sexist remarks sparked her activism.
As the global community marks the “16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence,” the message is clear: there is no excuse for online abuse. The digital world should be a space of empowerment, not a minefield of control. For Ljubica Fuentes, the battle is personal, but the goal is universal. Tears well in her eyes as she reflects on her journey and the work that lies ahead. “I will endure everything again,” she says, “just to know that someone is not going to go through what I went through.” Her resilience is a call to action for everyone to stand up against the digital shadows and ensure that the internet becomes a safe harbor for all.
