The protests were not organised by a single organisation or leader. At the national level, the movement never had a defined leadership. It was a coming together of various leaders from different fields who tried to agree, at the very least, on the day, time and place of the protest.

In Lima, there was much discussion about who the spokesperson would be, because the media wanted to speak to a leader and there wasn’t one. In my city, Tacna, in the south of Peru, we were at a social gathering with a group of friends when we found out what was happening in Lima, and that’s when we decided to take action. We saw the call on social media, shared it, reached out to people from various youth organisations and organised our protest. As it’s a smaller city, most people know each other and horizontal coordination is easier.

Social media was the thread that tied it all together. The calls to action were spread exclusively through social media. Sometimes a protest would spring from a TikTok video with a call to action that turned into a rally with a date, time and place. The ability to reach a young audience directly and at almost no cost was crucial, particularly for youth organisations that are self-sustaining with no structure or budget.

But this also exposed the movement to disinformation and surveillance by the authorities. The media interviewed people who claimed to be spokespersons for Gen Z without having taken part in any protests, and who sought to link the demands to political parties or discredit the movement.

The Gen Z identity was also forged on social media. Global symbols were used, such as the flag from the One Piece Japanese manga and anime series, which had already been seen at protests in Indonesia, Nepal and the Philippines. We drew inspiration from what had happened in those countries, hoping to replicate in Peru the change young people had achieved there. These symbols lent legitimacy to the movement and attracted more young people.

However, the generational label also carried a negative connotation. The adult public and the mainstream press ridiculed our protests, claiming we had not completed our education and lacked sufficient knowledge. The protests in 2021, which had not been labelled as generational, enjoyed much broader public acceptance.

The main risk is always police repression, which in Peru has been lethal. Under the government of Dina Boluarte, president between December 2022 and October 2025, 50 people were killed in protests and those responsible remain unpunished.

In Tacna, relations with the police were calmer, but we faced other real risks, particularly harassment and reputational damage. As it’s a small town, your face and name are remembered. In my case, after giving interviews to local media calling for participation in the protests, I saw my name in social media posts with very negative comments questioning my age, education and right to speak. On other similar occasions, I faced death threats and didn’t receive the judicial protection measures I requested. There’s real risk behind even the smallest actions.

Some friends said they supported what we were doing but did not want to be photographed or associated with us, because we were being called provocateurs and linked to terrorism. Their fear was understandable. But protesting should not be a cause for shame.

Among the tangible achievements, the movement succeeded in getting a motion tabled to change the Presiding Board of Congress, the body that chairs legislative sessions, although it didn’t gain the necessary votes. It also secured an amendment to the pensions law which, even if it wasn’t the repeal we had called for, allowed for the voluntary withdrawal of funds by those who so wished. In contrast, the ‘pro-crime laws’ remain in place. That’s our most significant outstanding demand.

But the most notable achievement is internal change. Many young people who took part in the protests subsequently became involved in politics more directly, either by joining a party or standing as candidates in the latest election. One of the young spokespeople for the protests in Tacna stood as a candidate for Congress, and despite enjoying considerable public support, she failed to secure a seat due to the low number of votes received by her political organisation and the limitations imposed by the electoral formula, which over-represents bigger parties. A second young woman who was actively involved in the local protests has a strong chance of being elected, as her party is leading the vote for deputies in the region.

Looking ahead to the second round of the presidential election, the outlook is critical. On the one hand, there’s Keiko Fujimori of Fuerza Popular, historically linked to human rights violations and corruption. Her campaign has highlighted the legacy of her father, former President Alberto Fujimori, who was convicted of crimes against humanity perpetrated by military groups under his command. On the other hand, Roberto Sánchez’s second-place position has triggered a worrying narrative that seeks to invalidate the rural vote. This phenomenon, steeped in racist undertones and an evident contempt for people who live in the south of Peru, where Sánchez receives his strongest support, seeks to delegitimise the popular will in historically neglected areas.

This is a time to remain vigilant. Elections are an opportunity to bring about change, although it’s difficult for that opportunity to materialise because Peru’s party system is a disaster and parties are personality-driven and lack genuine programmes. But I’m convinced it’s possible to build the country we want. We just need more people to believe it can be done.