At every hotel reception desk, at every airport counter, on every corner of a tourist neighborhood, hundreds of travelers arrive with suitcases full of expectations, ready to fall in love with the mountains, the coffee, the people. Those working on the other side of the counter make sure those expectations are met, offering the complete package, the perfect experience. But behind that postcard-perfect image of Colombia lies a reality we rarely talk about: the Commercial Sexual Exploitation of Children and Adolescents (ESCNNA, for its acronym in Spanish).
It’s easy to think that protecting children is a job for the police, the law, “the authorities”. But the work we’ve been doing at Holafly this year alongside Valientes Colombia has taught us something else: the strongest shield a child can have isn’t a police badge; it’s their own environment. It’s the parents, the teachers, the neighbors, the hotel staff, the tourist having a coffee on the corner.
To understand the importance of this responsibility, we have to tear down the painful myth that a home is always a safe place. Data from the Colombian Institute of Family Welfare (ICBF) reveals an overwhelming reality: nearly 70% of violence and abuse against minors happens within their own family environment. If their inner circle fails, the child is left adrift, and that’s when the school and the community become their only safety net.
Children almost never break their silence with a stranger on the street; they do it with someone in their daily environment whom they’ve grown to trust. But it’s no use for a child to gather the courage to speak up if the adult listening doesn’t know what to do.
Just this past July, as part of the Escuelas Libres de ESCNNA project in Medellín, we managed to raise awareness among 1,820 students across four schools in the city, creating spaces of trust and active listening. And what happened was truly eye-opening: thanks to that safe environment, in that very same month we were able to detect and immediately refer six risk situations to the Attorney General’s Office (Fiscalía) so professionals could intervene.
Those cases show us that when a child dares to say that something makes them uncomfortable, the reaction of the person listening means everything. If we get scandalized, if we question them, if we accuse them with guilt, we close their only escape route. Handling the situation well means always believing them, staying calm, letting them know it isn’t their fault, and seeking professional help without hesitation.
But the environment of our children is no longer confined to the streets or school hallways; today, the danger also lives right in their pockets. The digital environment has become a silent risk zone where predators hide, often while kids are sitting on the couch right next to their parents.
During those same July sessions, we found that 40.2% of the students had received unsolicited sexual material. Another 21.1% had been contacted by strangers with sexual propositions; and almost 18% knew someone in their circle who had been forced to send intimate content.
As adults, many choose to turn a blind eye to the problem under the excuse that “they were born with technology and know more than we do”. That is a mistake that costs lives: we have to get involved, educate them about consent, and make it clear that they should never feel ashamed if they are being blackmailed; they can always turn to a trusted adult.
And this is where the role of those of us who work in tourism, and those who visit us, comes into play. Tourism transforms cities; high-traffic areas or communes in Medellín that were reborn after violence to become global tourist epicenters, are spaces where hundreds of realities converge every day. What happens if a tourist or a local guide notices an adult acting strangely with a minor?
We were taught that “you don’t get involved in other people’s problems,” but when it comes to child exploitation, indifference is complicity. Responsible tourism goes far beyond protecting the environment or buying from local artisans: it’s about protecting the social net of the place that opens its doors to you. A timely report at a hotel reception or on the “Te Protejo” App, a call to the 141 emergency line, or even a message to @valientescol, can change a child’s destiny forever.
Protecting our children doesn’t require experts or superpowers. It requires something far more human: to stop being indifferent. To listen, validate what they feel, pay close attention to those around us, and have the courage to speak up when something doesn’t look right. If we transform our homes, schools, streets, and tourist destinations into true protective environments, we will have stripped exploiters of their greatest tool: our silence.
