“EXPOSED: 5,712 Missing. 116 Counted. The Numbers Don’t Lie.”

When a Native woman goes missing, it’s not just a crime scene that becomes unclear — it’s the system itself. The trail doesn’t grow cold. It was never warm.

In August 2017, Savanna LaFontaine-Greywind, a 22-year-old member of the Spirit Lake Nation, disappeared from her apartment in North Dakota. Her body was found days later. Her case drew national attention not just because of the brutality of the crime, but because it highlighted how quickly jurisdictional confusion and data failures can stall a response. Savanna’s murder would help inspire Savanna’s Act — legislation meant to fix some of these failures. But years later, many of the same gaps remain.

Across the United States, Native American women and girls go missing or are murdered at rates that are both higher than average and poorly documented. Families file reports, communities post flyers, advocates organize searches—and still the official numbers come in thin, late, or not at all. This isn’t just a story of tragedy; it’s a story of broken architecture. America’s public-safety systems were not designed to see Native women clearly.

The National Institute of Justice (NIJ) found that more than four in five American Indian and Alaska Native (AI/AN) women have experienced violence in their lifetimes. More than one in three experienced violence in just the past year. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) reports that homicide is one of the leading causes of death for AI/AN women, with intimate partner violence a frequent factor. These aren’t anomalies—they’re structural warnings.

The Missing Data Problem

Here’s the hard truth: there is no single, reliable national database that accurately reflects the number of missing Native women. Two key federal systems exist—NCIC (the FBI’s National Crime Information Center) and NamUs (the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System)—but they were built for different purposes.

  • NCIC is mandatory for law enforcement but not visible to the public.

  • NamUs is public but voluntary in most states.

The result: thousands of Native women exist in one database that families can’t see and are missing from the one they can. In 2016, NCIC recorded 5,712 reports of missing Native women and girls. Only 116 appeared in NamUs.

In 2022, federal records logged more than 10,000 Native missing-persons cases in NCIC. A majority were youth, with a slight skew toward female victims. But these figures rarely make it to the public eye, leaving families to rely on flyers, word of mouth, and fragmented search efforts.

Why Cases Vanish in the System

Race Misclassification

Native women are frequently misidentified in police reports, medical examiner files, or the media. If the label is wrong at intake, it’s wrong in the data—and when lawmakers ask, “How big is the problem?” the official answer is falsely small.

Jurisdictional Confusion

Authority depends on where the disappearance occurred (tribal, state, or federal land), who the victim is (Native or non-Native), and who the suspect is. For decades, Oliphant v. Suquamish Indian Tribe (1978) stripped tribes of their ability to prosecute non-Native offenders on tribal land. Congress partially restored some powers through Violence Against Women Act (VAWA) reauthorizations in 2013 and 2022. But the patchwork persists. When jurisdiction is unclear, investigations slow down and critical early hours are lost.

Under-Resourced Policing

Many tribal departments are spread thin across vast territories, with limited investigative resources or personnel to quickly input cases into federal systems. Federal agencies like the Bureau of Indian Affairs have launched dedicated Missing & Murdered Units, but their reach remains limited.

Urban Invisibility

Most Native Americans now live in cities, far from their tribal nations. Urban police departments often lack protocols to track tribal affiliation and fail to enter Native cases correctly. Many city agencies have zero or incomplete records on missing Native women, according to the Urban Indian Health Institute (UIHI).

Time Lost = Lives Lost

The U.S. Department of Justice has long documented that the first 48–72 hours after someone goes missing are critical. For children, 76% of abducted victims who are murdered are killed within the first three hours. Every delay in alerts or database entry lowers the chance of survival. When jurisdictional chaos delays those hours, it’s not just a bureaucratic problem — it’s life and death.

Signs of Progress — But Not Enough

Savanna’s Act (2020) was meant to address these gaps, creating standard protocols and improving coordination. The DOJ has built MMIP portals, training programs, and tribal response plans. But oversight reports show uneven execution and little enforcement. U.S. Government Accountability Office (GAO) continues to flag data gaps.

Some states have adopted specialized alerts — often called Turquoise Alerts — designed to rapidly broadcast when an Indigenous person goes missing. Washington was first in 2022; California, Colorado, and others followed. New Mexico passed its alert in 2025, and Arizona enacted “Emily’s Law” after a tragic high-profile case. The Federal Communications Commission also approved a special national code to strengthen how alerts reach the public.

But only some states use these tools. Many Indigenous families still wait for alerts that never come.

What a Real Fix Looks Like

  1. Make Case Visibility Mandatory
    All law enforcement should be required to enter missing-persons cases into both NCIC and NamUs within strict time limits.

  2. Fix Race and Tribal Affiliation Fields
    Mandatory accuracy in racial classification and tribal affiliation is essential. Mislabeling erases people.

  3. Fund the Front Lines
    Tribal police and rural sheriffs need investigators, forensics, and trained data-entry staff to keep up with real-time cases.

  4. Expand Tribal Criminal Jurisdiction
    Close legal gaps so tribal nations can act swiftly, especially for violent crimes involving non-Native suspects.

  5. Adopt and Measure State Alert Systems Nationwide
    Turquoise Alerts work. Every state with Native populations should have one.

  6. Bridge City-to-Tribe Communication
    Urban agencies need MOUs with tribes to ensure that cases involving Native people are identified, tracked, and responded to properly.

  7. Public Accountability
    DOJ and states should publish annual dashboards showing AI/AN missing-persons entries, corrections for misclassification, and alert response times.

A Nation’s Responsibility

This crisis isn’t a “Native issue.” It’s an American justice issue. When the system fails to count or respond to missing Native women, it’s not just a gap in statistics — it’s a betrayal of equal protection under the law.

For listeners and readers: you can help close that gap. Ask your legislators if your state has a Turquoise Alert system. Demand that your local police enter cases into both databases. Support Native advocacy groups who are fighting for these families. Share their names and their stories.

Because when a Native woman disappears, the system shouldn’t make her invisible twice.


Disclaimer:
This op-ed draws from federal and state reports, public health data, congressional research, and Native advocacy organizations as of October 22, 2025. Figures reflect discrepancies between NCIC and NamUs reporting systems and may not capture the total number of missing Indigenous persons due to underreporting and misclassification. The content is for investigative and educational purposes only and should not be interpreted as legal advice. All efforts have been made to ensure factual accuracy; however, data systems are incomplete, and numbers may change as reporting and legal frameworks evolve.

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Craig Bushon

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