For more than two decades, the boundaries of Marina’s world were defined by fear. For twenty-two years, she endured a harrowing cycle of physical and emotional torment at the hands of her husband, a domestic reality that many women across the globe know all too well. When she finally found the courage to pack her belongings and leave with her two children in 2021, she believed the nightmare was ending. But as she soon discovered, the end of a marriage does not always signal the end of an obsession. While the physical walls of her former home no longer confined her, a new, invisible prison was being constructed around her: the digital world.
Her husband did not disappear; he simply migrated his tactics to the internet. Marina found herself the target of a relentless campaign of surveillance and psychological warfare. She was followed by individuals hired to film her without her knowledge. Her phone became a conduit for death threats. Most damagingly, her identity was hijacked; fake social media profiles were created in her name, maliciously advertising her as a provider of sexual services. Despite the profound trauma these actions inflicted, the legal system offered little recourse. Under the existing framework in Moldova, such digital incursions were often categorized as mere misdemeanors, punishable by nothing more than a nominal fine—a price many abusers are more than willing to pay to continue their harassment.
However, the tide is turning in Eastern Europe. A landmark legislative shift is set to fundamentally alter the landscape of justice for women like Marina. Beginning on February 14, 2026, the Republic of Moldova will implement a series of robust legal amendments designed to criminalize digital violence, providing the state with the teeth necessary to bite back against tech-facilitated abuse. This is not merely a tweak to existing statutes; it is a wholesale recognition that the digital space is a frontline for human rights.
The statistics underlying this legislative push are staggering. In Moldova, approximately 65 percent of women aged 18 and older who are active online have reported experiencing some form of digital violence. For years, these women operated in a legal vacuum where the law failed to keep pace with the evolution of technology. The new amendments bridge this gap by offering a comprehensive definition of digital violence: any act of harm perpetrated through information technology or electronic communications. This includes the creation of "abusive content data," which the law now identifies as discriminatory, sexist, obscene, or defamatory materials used to target individuals.
Perhaps the most significant change is the criminalization of stalking. Under the new law, stalking will no longer be dismissed as a nuisance; it will be a criminal offense. Perpetrators can face up to two years in prison, a sentence that increases to three years if the abuser is a family member. The scope of the law is deliberately broad, covering everything from repeated, unwanted digital contact to the monitoring of a person’s home or workplace through online surveillance tools. By explicitly naming these behaviors, the Moldovan Parliament is sending a clear message: the anonymity and distance provided by a screen will no longer serve as a shield for predators.
This legislative victory was not achieved in a vacuum. It is the culmination of a massive, collaborative effort between the Parliament of the Republic of Moldova, the National Agency for the Prevention and Combating of Violence against Women and Domestic Violence (ANPCV), and a coalition of international partners including UN Women, UNFPA, and the Council of Europe. Civil society organizations played a pivotal role in ensuring that the voices of survivors were heard at the highest levels of government.
Viorica Șimbalari, the Director of the ANPCV, views this as a turning point for the nation’s social fabric. She emphasizes that safety in the digital age is not a luxury but a fundamental necessity. According to Șimbalari, the evolution of justice must mirror the evolution of technology. The agency is already looking toward the 2026 implementation date, planning extensive training sessions for police officers, prosecutors, and judges. The goal is to ensure that when the law goes into effect, the entire judicial machinery is prepared to handle the nuances of digital evidence and the specific psychological needs of cyber-violence survivors.
For Marina, the promise of this law is inseparable from the immediate support she has received through grassroots initiatives. UN Women, with funding from the Government of Denmark, has partnered with the Dacia Centre in Soroca to provide free legal counseling and representation for survivors. For a woman who had been stripped of her financial independence and her sense of security, this assistance was nothing short of a lifeline. Marina admits that without this free legal aid, the prospect of navigating a divorce and fighting back against her abuser would have been an impossible burden.
Her lawyer, Tatiana Vicol-Felișcan, a dedicated advocate at the DACIA NGO, has seen firsthand how digital abuse acts as a force multiplier for traditional domestic violence. She points out that psychological violence is often the most pervasive yet least understood form of abuse. In the modern era, it is almost always intertwined with online intimidation or blackmail. Vicol-Felișcan is hopeful about the new laws but remains pragmatic. She stresses that the "black letter" of the law is only the beginning. To truly protect women, the legal system must adopt trauma-informed practices, such as the expanded use of video hearings, to prevent survivors from being re-traumatized by face-to-face encounters with their abusers in court.
The urgency of these protections was underscored just last month when Marina’s situation escalated back into the physical realm. Despite her efforts to distance herself, her husband attacked her again, inflicting serious head injuries that have left her unable to work. This brutal reminder of the stakes involved highlights why the new penalties for sexual harassment and stalking are so critical. The amendments will see fines for sexual harassment—including online harassment—climb as high as USD 3,000, with prison sentences reaching up to four years. In cases where the victim is a minor, the penalties are even more severe, with potential prison time of up to seven years.
Dominika Stojanoska, the UN Women Moldova Country Representative, notes that these changes reflect a profound commitment to the dignity and freedom of women and girls. However, she echoes the sentiment that implementation is the ultimate test. The legal framework provides the map, but the practitioners—the officers on the beat and the judges on the bench—must be the ones to walk the path.
Beyond the courtroom and the police station, the true power of this legislation may lie in its ability to shift cultural mindsets. For too long, digital abuse has been trivialized or blamed on the victim’s presence online. Marina’s journey toward healing involved a fundamental realization: the shame of the abuse does not belong to her. It belongs solely to the aggressor. By codifying these protections into law, Moldova is validating that perspective on a national scale.
As the world observes the "16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence" under the theme #NoExcuse, Moldova’s legislative progress serves as a blueprint for other nations. The campaign, which runs from November 25 to December 10, highlights that digital spaces should be engines of empowerment, not venues for subjugation. For millions of women, the internet has felt like a minefield; Moldova is beginning the difficult work of clearing those mines.
Marina continues to fight for her future, her eyes fixed on the horizon of 2026. She hopes her story encourages other women to step out of the shadows and recognize that digital violence is real, it is damaging, and it is a crime. Her struggle is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, and the new law is a testament to a society finally willing to stand behind its most vulnerable citizens. The transition from victim to survivor is a long road, but with a digital shield finally in place, women in Moldova may finally find the safety they have been denied for so long.
