海角大神

When Colombia offered millions of Venezuelans who had fled chaos at home a fresh start and life of legality, the United Nations called the offer 鈥渉istoric鈥� and migrants couldn鈥檛 wait to apply.

Then reality set it.

Without a mobile phone or laptop, no access to internet, and little in the way of digital skills, how were families even to apply for the new status and submit their slew of documents?

鈥淚t would be amazing to get my papers sorted out and walk around freely without fear of being deported,鈥� said Venezuelan migrant Esneiro Gonzalez.

But the landmark gesture announced by Colombia in February has since revealed a deep digital divide that unintentionally excludes many of the very people it set out to help.

People like Mr. Gonzalez: an electrician and father of two, who fled his homeland four years ago, and has since operated on the margins of life in next-door Colombia.

鈥淏eing irregular, I can鈥檛 get a good job and health care in Colombia,鈥� he told the聽Thomson聽Reuters聽Foundation.

Winning the legal status could let some 2.2 million people like him regularize their shaky status, work legally, claim some benefits, and live without fear of deportation.

The U.N. refugee agency (UNHCR) hailed the 10-year Temporary Protected Status (TPS) on offer as the region鈥檚 most important humanitarian gesture in decades.

The only problem was that about half of the people it aimed to help couldn鈥檛 work out how to get near it.

鈥淚 don鈥檛 have access to the internet or a high-end smartphone, and I鈥檓 not good with technology,鈥� said Mr. Gonzalez, after his initial elation waned in the face of technology.

Some 5.4 million Venezuelans have emigrated in recent years, fleeing political turmoil and a humanitarian crisis in their homeland, crises only exacerbated by the pandemic.

Most have fled to countries across South America, with neighboring Colombia the destination of choice.

But since registration began in May, fewer than a million Venezuelans who live in Colombia have completed registration online 鈥撀燼 prerequisite for what is a long road to TPS.

But there are at least 800,000 more migrants, people like Mr. Gonzalez, who are eligible and keen to integrate yet find it difficult to register online, raising fears they could miss out.

So those on the wrong side of the digital divide 鈥撀爉ost of whom live in poor city areas and aren鈥檛 tech savvy 鈥撀燼re being courted by NGOs and the UNHCR to ensure they don鈥檛 miss out.

What鈥檚 a PDF?

Inside a church building in Soacha, a hillside slum outside the capital Bogota, Mr. Gonzalez is one of about 60 Venezuelans who are given guidance each day on how to register online.

With a tablet and stable internet connection, aid workers from the International Rescue Committee (IRC) helped Mr. Gonzalez create an email account for the first time.

They guided Mr. Gonzalez through 92 questions just to register then helped him scan and upload a stack of documents 鈥� a near- impossible task without a mobile phone on a shaky internet connection and without basic digital literacy skills.

鈥淭o start the whole process, a good internet connection is indispensable,鈥� said the IRC鈥檚 Gina Sanchez, who helped set up the digital support center with nine other aid groups in June.

鈥淲e鈥檙e aiming to reach the most vulnerable who don鈥檛 have internet access and digital skills,鈥� said Ms. Sanchez.

鈥淪ome migrants don鈥檛 know what a PDF is, don鈥檛 have an email address or know how to create one,鈥� she added.

鈥淭he Venezuelan migrants arriving now are in a worse state than before 鈥撀爐hey are poorer and sicker,鈥� said Ms. Sanchez.

Aid groups also fear that the tens of thousands of Venezuelans who live in rural areas 鈥撀燾offee pickers and those gathering coca leaves for cocaine 鈥撀爉ay be shut out altogether.

Colombia鈥檚 migration agency has set up 106 help centers across the country along with an outreach campaign on social media to better inform migrants.

Juan Francisco Espinosa, migration agency director, said in a statement that Colombia 鈥渟hould be proud of its collective effort鈥� and is doing 鈥渧ery well鈥� in guiding the applicants.

About 110,000 migrants have received help in applying online 鈥渂ecause they do not have access to technology,鈥� he has said.

IOU internet

Living in the upper reaches of a hillside slum, Franmaryoli Hernandez, driven by hunger to leave her hotel job in Venezuela鈥檚 tourist Margarita island, considers herself tech savvy.

But without a computer, smartphone, or broadband at her one-bed rental, she had to rely on a neighbor to get online.

This make-do method means it is difficult to check the status of her TPS application or advance to the next stage 鈥撀燼n appointment with migration officials to provide biometric data.

鈥淩ight now, I don鈥檛 have enough money to take the bus, let alone go to an internet cafe or pay for internet on my phone,鈥� said Ms. Hernandez, a mother who is now a coffee street vendor.

鈥淚f I earn 15,000 pesos ($3.80) a day, I鈥檝e won the lottery,鈥� she said, as a chilly draft swept the bare concrete floors of her home.

Without any internet, job hunting or telework is near impossible, whereas elusive TPS would increase her chances of earning the minimum monthly wage of about $260, Ms. Hernandez said.

鈥淚t would be incredible to get it and mean a better life for me and my daughter,鈥� she said.

This story was reported by the Thomson Reuters Foundation.