The classroom at Ecuador’s largest public university was supposed to be a space for intellectual growth and the pursuit of justice. Instead, for Ljubica Fuentes, it became the epicenter of a targeted campaign of hate that would eventually force her to flee her home in the middle of the night. The catalyst was a single moment of defiance. When a law professor stood before the lecture hall and claimed that women were not “real lawyers” but were merely attending university to “pick up some guy,” Fuentes raised her hand. Her objection was swift and principled, but the retaliation was a relentless wave of digital and physical intimidation that would redefine her life’s work.
In the days following her stand against academic sexism, Fuentes was branded with the derogatory label “feminazi.” The slur, intended to silence and devalue her advocacy, echoed through the hallways and quickly migrated to the digital sphere. What began as classroom whispers transformed into a coordinated digital nightmare. Her Instagram inbox was flooded with private messages warning her to stop speaking up for women’s rights. On the campus Facebook page, anonymous users posted graphic threats. The harassment soon breached the digital-physical divide: notes containing rape threats were circulated, and rumors surfaced that an individual had been hired to physically assault her.
“I realized that I needed to be outside of the campus for my sanity and integrity,” Fuentes recalls. The weight of constant surveillance and the credible threat of violence left her with no choice but to seek safety elsewhere. She fled for a semester abroad, leaving under the cover of darkness. This experience, while traumatic, served as the foundation for her transition from a targeted student to a human rights lawyer and the founder of an organization dedicated to eradicating gender-based violence within higher education.
Fuentes’ story is a harrowing illustration of a global epidemic: technology-facilitated gender-based violence (TFGBV). Often dismissed as “just words on a screen,” digital violence is a visceral, pervasive threat that follows survivors into their most private spaces. As Fuentes poignantly observes, “When you get away from your abusers, you feel kind of safe, but digital violence is following you around everywhere you go.” This form of abuse is not an isolated incident but a structural tool used to maintain patriarchal control in the 21st century.
Global data paints a grim picture of the scale of this crisis. Research indicates that between 16 and 58 percent of women have experienced some form of digital violence. A study by the Economist Intelligence Unit revealed that 38 percent of women have been personally targeted by online abuse, while a staggering 85 percent have witnessed it directed at other women. The digital world, which promised connectivity and democratization, has instead become a minefield for those advocating for equality.
The COVID-19 pandemic acted as a massive accelerant for this trend. As the world moved online for work, education, and socializing, the “shadow pandemic” of violence against women found a new frontier. Fuentes explains that the patriarchy adapted with terrifying efficiency to reach women inside their own homes. “Online, everyone becomes braver,” she notes. “People were able to hide behind the screen and a fake user ID.” The anonymity of the internet provided a shield for abusers, allowing misogynistic rhetoric to flourish within the “manosphere”—a digital ecosystem dedicated to the subversion of women’s rights.
The consequences of this digital onslaught are devastatingly real. For many women, online harassment leads to “digital silencing,” where they withdraw from public discourse to protect their mental health. Fuentes describes the exhaustion of living under constant scrutiny: “The constant scrutiny takes away your peace. You always have to be 120 percent prepared to make an opinion online. 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.”
This pressure is particularly acute for young women and girls, with 58 percent reporting some form of online harassment. For those in public-facing roles, the statistics are even more alarming. A 2020 UNESCO report found that 73 percent of women journalists had experienced online violence in the course of their work. The impact extends beyond psychological distress; digital abuse is frequently a precursor to physical violence and, in extreme cases, femicide. When digital platforms are used to track, stalk, and dox women, the virtual world becomes a direct conduit to physical harm.
Despite the escalating frequency and severity of these attacks, the global legal infrastructure remains woefully inadequate. Less than half of the world’s countries have enacted laws specifically designed to prosecute online abuse. This legislative vacuum creates a “justice gap” that leaves survivors with few avenues for recourse. Fuentes points out the systemic apathy survivors often face when seeking help: “If you go to a public defender, they are going to say to you, you have to wait five years for this to be solved. Are you sure you want to start it?” This normalization of delay and dismissal discourages reporting and reinforces the impunity of abusers.
Furthermore, the tech giants that host these platforms have been criticized for their slow and often performative responses to digital violence. While algorithms are highly effective at targeting consumers with advertisements, they frequently fail to identify and mitigate coordinated harassment campaigns against women. The burden of safety is currently placed on the survivor rather than the platform or the perpetrator.
In response to these systemic failures, Fuentes’ organization, Ciudadanas del Mundo, has stepped in to fill the void. Working with over 600 individuals annually, the group focuses on early prevention and the development of safety protocols within universities—the very environment where Fuentes’ own ordeal began. By providing legal support and mobilizing over 1,000 people each year for advocacy, the organization is building a grassroots defense against digital misogyny.
Fuentes’ work is supported by the ACT Programme, a collaborative initiative between the European Commission and UN Women. This program recognizes that strong, independent feminist movements are the single most critical factor in driving the policy changes necessary to end violence against women. However, these movements are currently facing an unprecedented financial crisis. A global UN Women survey conducted in mid-2025 revealed that funding cuts have forced 34 percent of feminist organizations to suspend their programs. Even more shocking, 89 percent of respondents reported severe reductions in access to support services for survivors in their communities.
The irony of these funding cuts is that they occur at a time when digital violence is becoming more sophisticated. The ACT Programme aims to reverse this trend by amplifying the voices of young leaders like Fuentes and expanding the capacity of over 500 women’s rights organizations. The goal is to create a global network that can respond to the ground-level realities of women and girls in real-time.
As part of the annual 16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence, which runs from November 25 to December 10, the #NoExcuse campaign is calling for an end to the culture of impunity surrounding digital abuse. Fuentes offers practical advice for those currently facing online harassment: document everything, report the abuse to the platforms (even if the response is slow), and, most importantly, find a community of support.
Reflecting on her journey from a frightened student to a legal powerhouse, Fuentes remains driven by a sense of collective responsibility. Her fight is no longer just about her own survival, but about ensuring that the digital world becomes a space of empowerment rather than a tool of oppression. “I will endure everything again,” she says, her voice thick with emotion, “just to know that someone is not going to go through what I went through.”
The battle against digital violence is a fundamental human rights issue. It requires a multifaceted approach: governments must close the legislative gaps, tech companies must be held accountable for the safety of their users, and the international community must prioritize the funding of feminist organizations. As Ljubica Fuentes continues her work, her story serves as a reminder that while digital violence may start on a screen, the courage to fight back is what changes the world.
