The Database is Broken
And So Is Our Silence
I have spent years working as an advocate for missing people, years digging into cases that should have been handled with urgency, care, and dignity from day one. I’ve worked with families who carry grief like a second skin. I’ve walked through woods, cold trails, and bureaucratic nightmares.
But nothing — absolutely nothing — has prepared me for the level of systemic failure I’ve encountered over the last few months as I’ve focused more deeply on MMIP cases.
We say their names.
We demand justice.
We raise awareness.
We push and pull and fight.
But what happens when the very foundations of how we track, document, and FIND these missing Indigenous women and men are so flawed, so outdated, so riddled with errors that you begin to realize something horrifying:
The people we are fighting for are disappearing twice — once in real life, and once in the databases meant to protect them.
And that is unforgivable.
The Databases Are a Disaster — Let’s Call It What It Is
In the last several weeks alone, I have reviewed state and national missing person databases line by line — Montana, Wyoming, Oklahoma, Washington, New Mexico, the federal clearinghouse, and NAMUS.
And do you know what I found?
Errors. Everywhere. Massive, enraging, deadly errors.
People who were never entered at all
Cases marked “located” when families insist they are not
Missing Indigenous women with no photos uploaded
Duplicate entries
Wrong races
Wrong ages
Wrong heights
Wrong dates
Missing contact information
Missing vital stats
Cases entered in federal systems but not state systems
Cases entered in state systems but missing federally
And then there is NAMUS — the database we’re told is the national gold standard.
Here’s the truth:
In NAMUS right now:
267 Indigenous women are listed as missing — but only 89 have a photo attached.
640 Indigenous men are listed — but only 157 have a photo attached.
That means the public is being asked to locate 721 Indigenous people whose faces we are not even allowed to see.
That’s not a database.
That’s erasure in real time.
And if you think those numbers are shocking, wait until you hear the names — the actual women who have been reduced to blank silhouettes:
REAL PEOPLE. REAL CASES. NO PHOTOS.
Stephanie Lynn Lewis
Missing since October 12, 2004 from Lumberton, North Carolina.
She was 21 years old when she vanished.
American Indian / Alaska Native.
5’3”, 100 pounds.
No photo in NAMUS. Not one.
She has been missing for 20 years, and the national database still cannot show her face.
Eleanor Marie Trujillo
Missing since February 1, 1996 from Yakima, Washington.
She was 37 when she disappeared — she would be 67 today.
5’5”, 196 pounds.
American Indian / Alaska Native.
No photo uploaded.
Her family has lived 29 years with uncertainty, and the database that is supposed to help them shows nothing but a blank outline where her face should be.
Stephanie Rae Chase
Missing since May 1, 1995 from Oklahoma City, Oklahoma.
She was 25 when she vanished.
4’11”, 100 pounds.
Enrolled member of the Lower Brule Sioux Tribe.
NAMUS still does not have a photo of her.
We are nearly three decades past her disappearance, and the system still has not given the world her image.
These are not clerical errors.
These are not small inconveniences.
These are not harmless omissions.
These are people — women whose faces the system has effectively erased.
And it is happening at a scale that should shake this country awake.
MMIP Is a Crisis — But You Cannot Fight a Crisis With Bad Data
When we talk about the MMIP epidemic, we talk about violence, trafficking, jurisdictional chaos, policing failures, and lack of communication between agencies.
But we rarely talk about the data — the thing that determines how quickly a case spreads, how widely a face is recognized, and how fast a community mobilizes.
Without accurate records, there is no search.
Without photos, there is no public alert.
Without correct information, there is no hope.
Yet here we are, in 2025, with:
States unable to maintain their own databases
Tribal nations underfunded and ignored
Federal systems riddled with missing details
Families left to do the government’s work
Advocates forced to chase down corrections by hand
I shouldn’t have to call a clearinghouse and say, “You’re missing five active cases.”
I shouldn’t have to email a liaison, “Your description is wrong — her family has already corrected it.”
I shouldn’t have to tell a mother, “The only reason your daughter has no photo online is because nobody uploaded it.”
But this is where we are.
And it is infuriating.
This Isn’t a Technical Issue — It’s a Moral One
When the system fails to record a missing Indigenous woman accurately, it isn’t a minor mistake.
It is erasure.
It is violence.
It is another disappearance — this time in the digital world where she is supposed to be found.
A missing person without a photo is not a “case.”
She is a ghost in the system — and that is unforgivable.
The Change We Need — Right Now
Here is what must happen:
1. Mandatory audits of every missing persons database in the U.S.
2. Federal standards and oversight with consequences for noncompliance
3. Required training for all agencies entering data
4. Penalties for agencies who refuse to update, correct, or complete entries
5. Dedicated MMIP funding for tribal nations to maintain their own databases
6. A national PHOTO REQUIREMENT for all missing persons entries
7. Transparency and public access across all jurisdictions
I’m Not Writing This to Be Polite — I’m Writing This Because I’m Angry
I am angry for Stephanie Lewis.
I am angry for Eleanor Trujillo.
I am angry for Stephanie Rae Chase.
I am angry for the 178 Indigenous women with no photo.
I am angry for the 483 Indigenous men whose faces are missing from their records.
I am angry for every family robbed of visibility, dignity, and truth.
If we want to change the MMIP crisis, we must change the infrastructure that governs the search.
And until every Indigenous woman and man is entered correctly…
Until every face is visible…
Until every detail is accurate…
Until the databases stop failing the people they were built to protect…
I will keep shouting.
I will keep pushing.
I will keep fighting.
Because they deserve nothing less.
