VATICAN CITY — Humanity has endured many pandemics throughout history, the last Covid-19 crisis costing some 15 million lives. But there is one pandemic that continues to proliferate in the shadows and remain largely unspoken. The damage from it doesn’t flash across headlines the way a virus does. It doesn’t shut down economies. But it quietly shatters lives. It is a pandemic whose victims constitute the most vulnerable population of our society: the sexual abuse of children and adolescents. 

The numbers are truly tragic. Globally, around one in four girls and one in five boys are sexually abused before turning 18. Fewer than one in ten of these crimes are ever reported. That silence protects perpetrators and isolates victims. Sexual abuse is one of the different expressions of violence against minors, however, it has a very high degree of destructiveness as a result of two combined variables: its high frequency in all types of environments, which even “normalizes” it, and the fact that 9 out of 10 sexual aggressors are people close to the victim, often within the family itself. 

Childhood sexual abuse doesn’t simply pass with time. It alters the way a person sees themselves, how they relate to others, and how they navigate the world. Victims and survivors experience deep emotional and physical distress, carrying the weight of broken trust and isolation. Many struggle to find peace. Some never do. The impact can be of such intensity, that research shows that victims are at risk of dying years earlier than their peers. This is not just trauma. It is a life-altering loss. 

It’s in this painful and urgent reality that the Memorare Initiative takes root—a programme born not of policy, but of heartbreak. Led by Patricia Espinosa of the Pontifical Commission for the Protection of Minors, the initiative was launched in Rwanda in 2023. Its mission is to help the Church become a place of refuge and integrity for those who have suffered abuse—and a place where future harm is actively prevented. 

The Memorare Initiative doesn’t offer theoretical answers.

The Memorare Initiative doesn’t offer theoretical answers. Instead, it builds real structures: safeguarding training that opens eyes and equips communities; reception centres that welcome complaints without delay or suspicion; and networks between dioceses that share knowledge, rather than reinventing solutions in isolation. Communication is woven into every step, ensuring transparency and accountability aren’t treated as afterthoughts. 

Since its inception, the initiative has grown steadily. By early 2025, seventeen local projects were approved across Africa, Latin America, and Asia. Twenty-five are expected by year’s end. But numbers only tell part of the story. In each location, Memorare adapts—responding to local culture, capacity, and history. Where trust in institutions has eroded, progress means listening before acting. 

In many cases, progress depends on the quiet presence of Memorare Advisors—local safeguarding experts who help dioceses navigate sensitive terrain. They understand what no document ever could: that protecting the vulnerable means facing resistance, discomfort, even denial. And still choosing to stay in the work. 

Although the initiative focuses on the Global South, its relevance is expanding. Eastern Europe, too, is now being recognised as a region where protective systems remain fragile. The support of the Italian and Spanish Bishops’ Conferences has made many of these projects possible. As of 2024, the total amount of funds allocated amount to €386.477,52, with twelve Initiatives active globally. But broader financial support is urgently needed. 

“The protection of minors isn’t just a Church issue. It’s a human one.” – Patricia Espinosa  

Memorare reflects Pope Francis’s vision of a Church that walks with the wounded and refuses to look away. It’s not a brand or a bureaucratic reform. It’s a living response to pain that for too long has remained hidden. 

If the Church is to have a future rooted in justice and trust, it will be because of efforts like this—quiet, local, persistent. The kind of work that doesn’t make headlines, but changes lives.