After Colombia Bans Child Marriage, Cultural Change Becomes the Focus

“I look at my 23-year-old daughter, and I still see a child. If she were to tell me she’s getting married at 14, I would not allow that to happen,” says Claudia, 47, who herself was married at 14.

Claudia reflects on her past, when she met her 30-year-old husband as a 14-year-old. “I was swept off my feet and wanted a different life. Back then, for many people, including my parents, the priority was to get married—even at just 14!” she told More to Her Story.

Despite her child marriage, Claudia feels she was able to have a good life with her husband. “Every story is different, and I feel I lucked out. Many women go through so much hardship after marrying young. Looking back, girls should not be married at such a young age.”

Claudia’s life highlights how cultural practices that were once unquestioned now pose the greatest challenge to overcoming child marriage in Colombia, even after the passage of a law banning child marriage and de facto unions.

In November, Colombia became the latest country to ban child marriage without exceptions. While the law marks a crucial step in protecting children, “it is just the beginning,” Jennifer Pedraza, a congresswoman and co-author of the bill, told More to Her Story.

The new legislation closes a loophole in Colombia’s civil code that previously allowed child marriage or de facto unions for children as young as 14 with parental consent. This victory comes after eight previous attempts by advocacy groups and civil society to ban child marriage. However, Pedraza warns that overcoming the deep cultural norms surrounding this practice will remain an uphill battle.

“If we want to outlaw child marriage, we cannot only focus on the sanction but on the prevention of this practice. From literature to songs like +57, [which includes a phrase sexualizing a 14-year-old girl] child marriage and the sexualization of girls have been accepted and normalized. By doing so, we inflict lasting harm on women, girls, and entire generations,” Pedraza noted.

She added that many people seemed shocked when the issue of child marriage was raised. “It happens in Colombia, too, and is more common than we think.”

This issue isn’t confined to Colombia. Across Latin America, the prevalence of child marriages and de facto unions ranges from 8% to 35%. Colombia's legal changes have reignited public discourse on the topic throughout the region.

Globally, one in five girls are married before turning 18. According to a report by the Organization of American States and UNICEF data, 23% of Colombian women aged 20 to 24 were married before their 18th birthday.

Studies show that child marriage is rooted in deeply ingrained norms and gender roles, with expectations about women’s roles in the family shaped early in life. Combined with factors like poverty, these dynamics create conditions where child marriage becomes widespread.

Daniela Cordoba, a Colombian activist who works with survivors of child marriage, has observed the discomfort that arises when the topic of child marriage is discussed.

“For instance, many of our grandmothers were married at 12 or 13 years old,” she told More to Her Story. “It’s become so normalized. For many women, particularly those in rural areas, poverty plays a key role. Families often prefer to send their daughters away with a man if it means their basic needs will be met, completely ignoring the harm this causes.”

For Karol, an 18-year-old from rural Colombia, entering a de facto union felt like a way out — an escape from poverty. She met her partner at 15, and coming from a household led by a single mother where she and sisters had to “fend for themselves,” leaving with a man didn’t seem like a bad option.

Karol grew up in the Chocó department, a region deeply affected by internal conflict and violence and where opportunities for growth are scarce. Though she dreams of attending nursing school, her plans are currently on hold due to a lack of resources. She dropped out of school and now works as a domestic worker.

“I want to go back and graduate high school. I know I will,” she says.

For Claudia, stories like Karol’s resonate when she thinks of a different life path she could have taken. 

“I was a rebellious child. I was curious and wanted something different than having a larger workload than my brothers at home,” she told More to Her Story, recalling how she and her sisters took care of the house and farm while her brothers had far fewer chores.

“If I had been given alternatives, I would have pursued studies and a career. I didn’t know I could go to school and get a job by myself. Coming from a farm, where my sisters and I did most of the work while my brothers had fewer tasks just because they were boys — marriage seemed like the only way out.”

Colombia ranks as the most unequal country in Latin America, with stark disparities across income distribution, education access, and healthcare services. While the nation has experienced periods of economic growth, these inequalities remain entrenched and pose significant challenges to overcoming child and adolescent marriage. For Cordoba, the uncomfortable conversations around the sexualization of girls must happen; without them, meaningful change is unlikely.

“There has to be ways to allow girls to pursue paths where they can gain skills for life and to be independent and this has to be done at a national scale. Think from the education system, strategies that will add to the ongoing legislation changes and debates regarding child marriage and the sexualization of girls.”

Claudia remembers becoming a mother at 17 and searching for ways to empower herself, eventually finding that path through work. “That is the way forward,” she says. Now, with two grown children who are professionals, she feels she has fulfilled her life’s purpose by breaking the cycle.

“My children had the chance to play, to study—not a life where marriage was the solution or a way out. Seeing them pursue their goals and not getting married at a young age has been my reward.”

Carolina Loza León

Carolina Loza León is a freelance journalist reporting on human rights from Ecuador and Colombia.

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