CAMEROON: The Human Cost of Digital Violence

During her internship at a Prosecutor's Office in Cameroon, Lidwina Koti encountered a case she couldn't forget — a young activist silenced by coordinated digital abuse and a legal system with no answers. It changed the way she sees technology, justice, and power.

"Digital violence is not an inevitable by-product of modern life — it is a human rights crisis, and it is one we can confront."

I still remember the first time I truly understood the danger of digital violence.

During my internship at the Prosecutor's Office, I came across a case that stayed with me long after the file was closed.

A young private university student, active and passionate about improving campus life, had been using WhatsApp, Instagram, and X to rally fellow students around issues like rising tuition fees and safety concerns. Her voice, strong and articulate, drew attention — but also dangerous scrutiny. After publicly criticising influential student figures, she became the target of a coordinated online attack.

Anonymous accounts circulated her phone number, her hostel address, and digitally manipulated images that falsely portrayed her in sexually explicit situations.

Within days, the content had spread far beyond her campus — to family, religious communities, and potential employers. She faced threats, humiliation, and immense emotional distress. There were no clear legal protections to stop the abuse.

The situation was particularly distressing because there were no clear legal provisions under the Penal Code or the 2010 Cyber Criminality Law that could be relied upon to prosecute the perpetrators.

Fearful for her safety and reputation, she withdrew from social media entirely, abandoning her activism.

Her story is not unique.

Across Cameroon, and indeed across Africa, digital violence is escalating, yet it remains largely invisible and inadequately addressed. What begins online often extends into real life, eroding dignity, security, privacy, and equality.

Digital violence comes in many forms: harassment, cyberbullying, doxxing, fraud, non-consensual sharing of intimate images, and the manipulation of information using artificial intelligence. These attacks violate fundamental human rights. They strip away dignity when individuals are publicly shamed or degraded. They invade privacy when personal data is exposed without consent. They compromise security when online abuse escalates into real-world threats. And they reinforce social inequality when women, activists, journalists, and marginalised communities are disproportionately targeted.

Platforms that host these interactions are often part of the problem. Their policies are designed to maximise engagement, not protect users. Moderation is opaque, slow, and culturally disconnected — especially in African contexts where local language support is limited. The rise of AI has amplified these dangers: manipulated images, videos, and audio can circulate before anyone can intervene, leaving victims to fight for their reputation in a digital maze.

Cameroon's legal framework struggles to keep pace.

While the constitution guarantees privacy and dignity, existing laws are vague, narrowly framed, or poorly enforced. Non-consensual sharing of intimate images, AI-fuelled harassment, and cyberstalking often fall through legal cracks.

Survivors face dismissive authorities, little guidance on evidence preservation, and scarce access to mental health or legal support. Without specialised training for law enforcement and judicial actors, victims are left vulnerable — and perpetrators act with near impunity.

But change is possible.

Addressing digital violence requires a rights-centered approach. Laws must explicitly criminalize cyberstalking, doxxing, non-consensual image sharing, and AI-generated abuse. Law enforcement must be trained to handle cases sensitively, with a focus on trauma-informed and gender-aware responses. Digital platforms should adopt transparent reporting mechanisms, local-language moderation, and rapid removal of harmful content.

Education is critical. Schools, universities, and community programs can teach digital safety, responsible online behavior, and awareness of rights. Support systems (legal aid, helplines, mental health services) must be accessible to survivors.

Collaboration is key.

Governments, platforms, civil society, educators, and communities must work together to create digital spaces that protect rather than harm.

Every voice matters — especially those silenced by online abuse.

The young university student I met at the Prosecutor's Office embodies the cost of inaction: a bright, engaged citizen pushed to the shadows by digital violence. Her story reminds us that technology should be a tool for empowerment, not a weapon of harm.

By centering human dignity in digital governance, we can reclaim online spaces as places of safety, participation, and hope.

Digital violence is not an inevitable by-product of modern life. It is a human rights crisis, and it is one we can confront. Together, through legal reform, corporate accountability, education, and community support, we can ensure that screens are no longer instruments of fear, but instruments of empowerment.

The student whose story I encountered during my internship should never have had to choose between her safety and her voice. No one should.

We must build legal systems, digital platforms, and communities that protect those who speak up rather than punish them for it. That responsibility belongs to all of us — lawmakers, technology companies, educators, and citizens alike.

If we fail to act, more voices will be pushed into silence. But if we confront digital violence with courage and collective action, we can ensure that technology becomes a force for empowerment rather than harm.

STORY AWARD

This story was shared as part of the #EndGBV Call for Stories, a campaign by World Pulse's Research and Evaluation Group in partnership with the Imaara Survivor Support Foundation, amplifying the voices of survivors, advocates, and allies working to end gender-based violence.