The boundary between the physical and digital worlds has dissolved, creating a new and dangerous frontier where harassment knows no borders and abuse never sleeps. For many women, the internet is no longer a tool for empowerment but a persistent “minefield of harassment, abuse, and control.” This is the reality that Ljubica Fuentes, a human rights lawyer and activist, has dedicated her life to dismantling. Her journey from a targeted law student in Ecuador to a global advocate for digital safety serves as a harrowing testament to the fact that digital violence is not just “words on a screen”—it is a profound violation of human rights with devastating, real-world consequences.
Fuentes’ story began in the lecture halls of Ecuador’s largest public university, a place that should have been a sanctuary for intellectual growth and justice. Instead, it became the site of her first encounter with institutionalized misogyny. During a law lecture, a professor brazenly claimed that women were not “real lawyers” and were merely attending the university to “pick up some guy.” When Fuentes raised her hand to object, she wasn’t just challenging a sexist remark; she was unintentionally painting a target on her back. From that moment on, she was branded with the derogatory slur “feminazi,” a label that served as a catalyst for a campaign of harassment that would eventually drive her out of the country.
What began as classroom sneers rapidly mutated into a pervasive digital nightmare. The anonymity of the internet provided her abusers with a cloak of invisibility and a sense of impunity. Private messages on Instagram began to arrive, filled with warnings to stop her advocacy for women’s rights. The university’s Facebook page was flooded with threats from anonymous accounts. The harassment was not confined to the digital realm; it manifested as physical notes and whispers circulating on campus, carrying graphic threats of sexual violence. When Fuentes learned that someone had been hired to physically assault her, the psychological weight became unbearable. “I realized that I needed to be outside of the campus for my sanity and integrity,” she recalls. In the middle of the night, she fled her home to begin a semester abroad, a desperate move to escape a violence that seemed to follow her everywhere.
Fuentes’ experience is a localized snapshot of a global epidemic. Recent data suggests that between 16 and 58 percent of women have experienced technology-facilitated gender-based violence (TFGBV). A study by the Economist Intelligence Unit revealed that 38 percent of women have personally faced online abuse, while a staggering 85 percent have witnessed it directed at others. This “invisible epidemic” gained unprecedented momentum during the COVID-19 pandemic. As the world retreated into the safety of their homes, the digital space became the primary arena for social interaction—and for abuse. Fuentes notes that “patriarchy understood how to change in order to reach people inside homes,” observing that the shield of a screen makes people “braver” in their cruelty.
The psychological toll of this constant scrutiny is profound. For Fuentes and many others, the internet became a place where every word and every opinion had to be meticulously scrutinized before being shared. “You always have to be 120 per cent prepared to make an opinion online,” she 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.” This atmosphere of hyper-vigilance forces women into a state of self-censorship, effectively silencing voices that are crucial for democratic discourse and social progress.
The impact of digital violence is particularly severe for young women and girls, with 58 percent reporting some form of online harassment. Furthermore, women in public-facing roles, such as journalists and politicians, are targeted with surgical precision. A 2020 UNESCO report found that 73 percent of women journalists had experienced online violence in the course of their work. These attacks are often designed to discredit their professional standing and force them out of the public eye. When women abandon their education, restrict their online presence, or suffer mental health crises due to digital abuse, society loses the benefit of their contributions. In the most extreme cases, digital stalking and harassment escalate into physical violence and femicide, proving that the digital and the physical are inextricably linked.
Despite the clear and present danger, the global legal infrastructure has been slow to adapt. Less than half of the world’s countries have enacted laws that specifically prosecute online abuse. This legislative vacuum leaves survivors with little to no recourse. Fuentes points out that even when victims seek help from public defenders, they are often met with apathy or bureaucracy. “They don’t have laws that say anything about this problem,” she notes. Survivors are frequently told that seeking justice will take years, discouraging them from reporting the abuse and reinforcing a culture of impunity for perpetrators.
Furthermore, the responsibility of technology companies cannot be overlooked. For years, social media platforms have been criticized for their slow response to reports of harassment and their failure to design safety features that protect vulnerable users. The normalization of digital abuse is often bolstered by the “manosphere”—online communities that foster and amplify misogynistic ideologies. These spaces provide a breeding ground for coordinated attacks, where hate speech is disguised as “free speech” and harassment is framed as “trolling.”
In response to these systemic failures, Fuentes founded an organization that now works with 600 individuals annually, focusing on early violence prevention and the establishment of safety protocols within universities. Her work involves providing legal support to survivors and mobilizing over 1,000 people each year for advocacy campaigns. This grassroots activism is the frontline of the fight against gender-based violence, yet it is currently facing a dire financial crisis.
Fuentes is also a member of the Civil Society Steering Committee of the ACT Programme, a collaborative initiative between the European Commission and UN Women. The program aims to ensure that global efforts to end violence against women are informed by the ground-level realities of activists. However, the movement is being hamstrung by unprecedented funding cuts. A 2025 UN Women survey revealed that 34 percent of respondents had to suspend programs due to lack of funds, and 89 percent reported severe reductions in support services for survivors. This “funding cliff” threatens to undo decades of progress, leaving women and girls even more vulnerable to both digital and physical violence.
The ACT Programme currently supports over 500 women’s rights organizations, focusing on expanding their capacity and amplifying the voices of young leaders like Fuentes. The goal is to create a global network of resistance that can pressure governments to close the justice gap and hold tech companies accountable. For those currently facing digital violence, Fuentes offers practical advice: document everything, seek support from trusted networks, and never underestimate the reality of the threat. She emphasizes that the shame belongs to the abuser, not the survivor.
Looking back on her journey, Fuentes remains resolute. She eventually became the legal representative in a case against the very teacher who had once told her she couldn’t be a lawyer, a poetic victory in a long and difficult war. Despite the tears that well up when she speaks of her ordeal, her commitment to the next generation is unwavering. “I will endure everything again,” she says, “just to know that someone is not going to go through what I went through.”
As the world marks the “16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence” from November 25 to December 10, the #NoExcuse campaign serves as a reminder that digital spaces must be reclaimed. Online and digital platforms should be tools for empowerment, not weapons of war. The fight for digital safety is, at its core, a fight for the right to exist, speak, and lead in the modern world without fear. For Ljubica Fuentes, the battle continues, fueled by the hope that one day, the digital world will be as safe as the world we strive to build offline.
