Toni Estela, a 51-year-old survivor, reflects on her years at a youth center she attended in Palma. She left Fundacion Nazaret de Palma in 1983 at eleven and stayed until fourteen. During that period she, along with others, endured abuses at the hands of a supervisor who is now about 65 and living in Peru. Several former detainees have confirmed similar maltreatment. The perpetrator allegedly abused dozens of children throughout the eighties, a dark chapter in Majorca’s history.
When asked about the presence of the man at Nazareth when she arrived, she explains that he was already on staff. He was twenty-five at the time and served as one of the teachers, with a room inside the center where he stayed overnight.
The first sexual assault occurred only a few months after arrival. The children slept in large common rooms, many in their twenties and thirties, and he came for her in the morning while she slept, initiating a pattern of abuse that would escalate quickly.
What happened next is described in stark terms: he carried her, draped a blanket over them, and she froze. He led her to his room, she undressed, he undressed, and the abuse began. His voice was soothing, convincing her that there was nothing to fear, that this was normal.
Frequency is difficult to pin down, but the attacks occurred multiple times a week. She noticed other children sometimes waiting their turn in adjacent rooms, while she herself was taken away when they were all asleep.
Directly observed abuse involved about eight or nine children, though the perpetrator was careful to keep families unaware, making it hard to track who else might have been harmed. The assaults continued throughout the entire four-year period in Nazareth, ending only when the survivors finally moved on.
On weekends, the abuse extended to trips away from the center. He would recruit several children on camping journeys, often driving them in a brown van. The trips included beach outings and drives to Serra de Tramuntana. In those moments, the children were pressured to touch each other and to have sex with him in a group setting, an arrangement that deeply unsettled her and robbed her of the chance to see her parents during those weekends.
Asked about the number of children encountered during camps, she recalls frequent organization around the abuse, with perhaps fifteen different youths coming into contact with the perpetrator on those trips. The center, she emphasizes, was the place where the abuse was most meticulously staged and executed.
She estimates that as many as thirty children could have been harmed over the course of those four years. A culture of silence prevailed at the center, and she notes that no one spoke up for fear or shame. The perpetrator dismissed concerns by telling her that the abuses were normal, a twisted justification that left lasting scars.
Over time, she herself formed no close relationships with other survivors who could have shared experiences. When she visited Son Sardina and later recorded a video, she recognized a former victim who had been with her at Nazareth, though the man remained nonresponsive to her accusations.
She decided to report the abuses after years of carrying the trauma alone. A complaint was filed with the National Police in 2016, followed by a court report in the subsequent January. Prior attempts to tell family or friends were hampered by anxiety and fear until she reached a point where she could no longer stay silent.
Blaming the perpetrator was a pivotal moment. She explains that the predator could not be allowed to avoid accountability, as his actions affected many people who may still be suffering in silence. The decision to confront him at his home in Son Sardina last October marked a turning point in seeking justice and acknowledging the impact of the trauma on her own life.
The video testimony begins with a declaration of the lie told by the perpetrator, who tried to downplay the crimes and urge forgetting. The survivor insists that childhood trauma cannot be erased and that accountability is essential for healing and to prevent further harm to others.
The abuse has left a irreparable mark on her. It shaped her character, dictated a long struggle with grief, and inspired a persistent desire for justice. Her decision to speak out aims to encourage others who have endured similar assaults to come forward and pursue accountability, ensuring that the truth is acknowledged and that safeguards are put in place to protect children from similar harm in the future. The testament underscores the enduring need for support, justice, and communal healing for survivors who carry these memories for a lifetime.