By Jane Sonnenschein November 8, 2026

Over the past few days, I have kept coming across the same missing-person notice on social media.

A 13-year-old girl disappeared in Berlin on her way to school. On the morning of November 3, she left home as usual, planning to take public transport to school. But she never arrived. Several days have passed, and she still has not been found.

Her name is Lisa Tạ. According to a statement released by Berlin police on November 7, a large number of officers have been involved in the search, and criminal investigators are looking into the possibility of a serious crime. Police believe she probably did not leave her family voluntarily, but what actually happened remains unclear.

I am also a mother with a daughter. News like this is difficult to read without feeling deeply unsettled.

Today, I came across another social media post, reportedly from the girl’s mother, asking people to share the missing-person notice and even print copies so that more people might recognize her daughter and help find her.

Even through a screen, that sense of fear and helplessness was painful to see.

I cannot verify the full origin of the post, but I can understand how a mother might feel in such a situation.

Children going to and from school is one of the most ordinary parts of everyday life. When parents watch their child leave home with a schoolbag in the morning, they are usually thinking about what to make for lunch, what time the child will be back, or whether there will be homework to finish that evening.

Who could imagine that a morning no different from any other might change a family’s life forever?

To everyone else, it is a news story, a police announcement, a missing-person photograph being shared again and again.

But to the child’s parents, it is their entire world.

1. When a Child Goes Missing, Not Knowing What Happened May Be the Most Painful Part

This case reminded me of another girl who disappeared in Berlin in 2019: Rebecca Reusch.

She was only 15 at the time. Many years have passed, and the case has still not been definitively resolved. Her family has never received a clear answer.

I have also watched Chinese films about children who went missing or were abducted and trafficked, and about parents who spent years searching for them.

Some parents search for more than a decade, sometimes even several decades. They cannot truly begin a new chapter of their lives because one question remains unanswered: Where is my child?

I sometimes think that this kind of uncertainty can be even more painful than receiving terrible news that is at least certain.

Of course, a missing child has not necessarily been abducted, and it certainly does not mean the child has been killed. The police need to investigate, and the public needs to wait for evidence.

We must not allow our fear to write the ending of a missing child’s story before the search is over.

Every year, many minors are reported missing in Germany, but the vast majority of these cases are eventually resolved. That matters too, because it reminds us that not every missing-person report should be understood as a serious violent crime.

But for families who still have no answers, even a very high overall recovery rate does nothing to ease what they are going through.

2. These Stories Have Made Me Rethink How China and Germany Approach Public Safety

I grew up in China and have now lived in Germany for more than twenty years.

The two countries have some very noticeable differences in how they understand safety, privacy, and the management of public spaces.

Chinese society has changed enormously over the past few decades. My parents’ generation lived through years of material shortages. Life back then was almost another world compared with today.

Many Chinese cities have since undergone remarkable changes in everyday convenience and public facilities.

One particularly noticeable change is how common surveillance cameras have become in public places.

I have a relative who works in the public security system in Zhejiang Province. We once talked about missing children. He told me that, within the area of local work he was familiar with, he had not encountered a similar case in recent years.

Of course, that was only an observation based on his personal work experience. It does not represent all of Zhejiang, and it certainly does not mean that child disappearances or trafficking no longer occur in China.

But that conversation made me think about something.

If a child really disappears in a public place, could video recordings from along the route give the police more time to find out what happened?

Where was the child last seen? At what time did the child leave a particular intersection? Did the child get into a vehicle? Was anyone else there?

Information like this could be extremely important during an investigation.

I do not believe surveillance cameras can prevent every crime. Crimes can also happen in places cameras cannot reach.

But if necessary recordings are available from certain important locations, investigators may at least have more leads to follow afterwards.

3. Germany Takes Privacy Seriously, but Must We Really Choose Between Safety and Privacy?

After living in Germany for so many years, I am very familiar with the country’s strict data protection rules.

Some situations that might seem easy to solve by installing a camera, at least from the perspective of everyday life in China, can become much more complicated in Germany.

Questions arise about privacy rights, data storage, the purpose of recording, and who is legally allowed to access the footage.

In the past, I have sometimes found myself puzzled by how these rules work in everyday situations.

For example, when something goes missing at a school, everyone wants to find out what happened, but there may be no video recording available to help establish the facts.

Of course, schools are places where minors spend much of their time. Privacy needs are not the same in classrooms, corridors, and other areas. Cameras cannot simply be installed wherever someone wants them.

I understand those concerns.

But I still want to ask a question: Is it possible to protect personal privacy while making more sensible use of surveillance technology to improve public safety?

Today, people generate enormous amounts of personal data through their phones, shopping apps, and social media.

Many willingly upload photographs of their daily lives and even share images of their children publicly.

Of course, that is not exactly the same as surveillance in public places.

There are important differences between choosing to share information ourselves and having the state or another institution continuously record people’s activities. The balance of power is different, as are people’s freedom to choose and the risks of how that information might be used.

But this also shows that we cannot simply assume our personal data is adequately protected as long as we reject cameras in public places.

Perhaps the more important question is how to establish clear boundaries.

Where is surveillance genuinely necessary? Who should be allowed to use the recordings? How long should they be kept? Under what circumstances should they be accessed? And how can we prevent that information from being misused?

Germany’s approach to privacy has its own historical and legal background. Surveillance itself can also create new risks.

That is why I am not arguing for cameras to be installed everywhere, on every street or in every school, without conditions.

I simply believe that when security needs and technology change, our discussion of surveillance should become more specific, rather than remaining divided between two extremes: being for it or against it.

If a particular technology could help prevent crime in certain places or make investigations more effective, shouldn’t we at least consider whether it could be used more appropriately under strict oversight?

I think that is a question worth discussing openly.

4. Could Economic Pressure Make Society Less Safe?

Germany has faced considerable economic difficulties in recent years, and many families have felt the pressure of rising living costs.

I sometimes worry that as life becomes harder for people, certain social problems might also become more serious.

Looking back at China’s development, I often think about the periods when economic progress was very uneven and there were enormous differences in living standards between regions.

Crimes such as human trafficking have complicated social causes, including networks of illegal financial interests, gaps in regulation, and risks faced by vulnerable groups.

But I also know that we cannot simply say a weak economy will inevitably lead to more crime.

And we certainly should not treat poverty itself as a criminal motive.

Likewise, seeing several stories about missing children on social media in a short period does not prove that child disappearances in Germany are rapidly increasing.

We would need long-term data to establish that, not just a few shocking videos.

Still, as a mother, seeing these stories appear repeatedly has made me reconsider how safe I once assumed my surroundings were.

In the past, I generally felt that Germany was a relatively safe place to live. When I took my daughter to the supermarket or other public places, I was not always particularly worried.

Now I find myself thinking that there is nothing wrong with keeping that relaxed attitude, but perhaps we should also be more deliberate about teaching children how to recognize risks.

We do not need to imagine that danger is waiting everywhere.

But neither should we assume that because nothing has happened before, certain things could never happen.

5. Besides Hoping for a Safer Society, What Can Parents Do Themselves?

Over the past few days, as I have followed the news about the missing girl, I have also been asking myself what ordinary parents can do for their children.

Beyond following the investigation and helping share reliable missing-person information from the police, what can we actually do?

Several years ago, we introduced our daughter to Krav Maga, the Israeli self-defense system.

Chris had previously trained in different forms of martial arts. What he values in this kind of training is its usefulness in real situations, rather than simply whether the movements look impressive.

But I do not believe that learning martial arts means a child can defend herself against an adult.

And I certainly do not want a child to think that she must fight someone whenever she faces danger.

What I hope my daughter gains from the training is, first of all, better physical coordination, greater awareness of her surroundings, and some mental preparation so that she does not completely panic when something unexpected happens.

Perhaps even more important are the very simple things we teach children in everyday life.

For example, if an unfamiliar adult asks a child for directions, the child can answer politely, but has no obligation to go anywhere with that person.

If someone asks a child to get into a car or claims that the child’s parents have sent them to pick her up, she must check with her parents first.

If something feels wrong, she can say no, leave, or shout for help. She does not need to worry about whether that might seem impolite.

Children should also know which shops, medical practices, or other public places along their route between school and home might be safe places to ask for help.

Parents should agree with their children in advance on how to contact one another if the usual route or pickup arrangements change.

In the past, I have watched online videos showing how strangers might trick children into going with them. Some even included scenes in which a child supposedly lost consciousness shortly after touching a particular object.

Such videos can be frightening and leave a strong impression.

But whether the events are real, and whether the methods shown are even credible, needs to be carefully checked.

We should not assume that something really happened just because a video looks convincing.

Rather than repeatedly showing children terrifying videos about abduction, I think it is more useful to establish clear, simple safety rules with them and practice those rules regularly.

There is also something that may matter even more than all these techniques.

Children need to feel able to tell their parents when something strange or worrying happens.

If a child is afraid of being scolded for making a mistake or believing something a stranger said, she may hesitate to tell her family about a dangerous experience.

Helping a child understand that, whatever happens, she can always come to her parents straight away is itself a form of protection.

That trust matters.

6. What We Need Is Awareness, Not Panic

As I write this, I am still thinking about that 13-year-old girl in Berlin.

Her parents must be desperately hoping that someone can provide a genuinely useful lead.

Perhaps someone saw something along the road. Perhaps a passing vehicle or some small, easily overlooked detail could help the investigation.

We cannot carry the pain this family is experiencing for them. Nor can we decide what happened based on speculation.

What we can do is pay attention to reliable information released by the police and help share missing-person notices once their sources have been confirmed.

And if we actually know something, we should contact the police promptly rather than fill comment sections with unsupported theories.

This case has also made me think again about what safety really means.

It is not just about whether there are cameras on the streets, or how strictly privacy is protected by law.

It also depends on whether society has systems that can respond quickly when people are in danger, and whether parents can help children develop the skills they need to protect themselves.

There may always be boundaries between public safety and individual freedom that need to be reconsidered and adjusted.

I do not believe any country has found a perfect answer.

But I hope that as technology develops and society changes, we can continue discussing these questions rather than rejecting other possibilities simply because we have become accustomed to one way of doing things.

For most people, a missing child is a story that occasionally appears in the news.

But for the family waiting for that child to come home, every day must feel unbearably long.

I hope Lisa comes home safely.

And I hope that every child who leaves home with a schoolbag in the morning can return safely, just as they always have.

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Afterword | November 9, 2026

I wrote this essay on November 8. At that time, I was still hoping that the 13-year-old girl would return home safely.

But shortly after I finished writing, I saw the news I had been dreading most.

On November 8, police discovered a body inside an unoccupied house in Brandenburg. On November 9, Berlin prosecutors confirmed that the person who had died was Lisa, the girl who had been missing for several days.

A man was under suspicion, but the precise cause of her death and the circumstances of the case were still being investigated.

When I saw the news, I did not know what to say for a long time.

Only a few days earlier, she had been a 13-year-old girl leaving home with her schoolbag, on her way to school.

Now, for her family, the waiting had become a loss that could never be undone.

Over the past few days, I have also been watching how people have responded on social media.

On one hand, missing-person information can reach thousands upon thousands of people in a very short time. More people can keep an eye out, share the information, and perhaps even provide useful leads.

That is one of the genuinely valuable things social media can do.

Perhaps the widespread attention this case received has also prompted more parents to think seriously about child safety issues they might otherwise overlook.

But there is another side to it.

After the tragedy became known, the stream of posts about the girl did not stop.

Unverified claims, speculation, and highly emotional content continued to appear.

Some people were expressing sincere grief. Others were trying to find answers. And inevitably, some were using the tragedy to attract attention.

I am writing about this case myself, so I cannot pretend to be completely outside that problem.

It has made me turn the question back on myself.

Are we genuinely concerned about what happened to a child? Or are we, without even realizing it, turning another family’s suffering into something that can be shared and discussed over and over again?

Perhaps the difference is not whether we talk about the case, but why we talk about it, what evidence we rely on, and whether we know when to hold back while the facts remain unclear.

Social media can make the disappearance of a child we have never met matter deeply to countless people.

But it can also amplify fear, spread speculation, and bring further unwanted attention to a family that has already suffered an unimaginable loss.

Paying attention should not mean turning someone’s suffering into content. And grief does not need to be proved through endless sharing.

As for what public safety problems this case may reveal, we still need to wait for more findings from the investigation.

We cannot treat unconfirmed speculation as an answer simply because the outcome is heartbreaking.

Nor can we assume that any single technological measure would necessarily have prevented this tragedy.

But at the very least, what happened to this girl has reminded me that child safety should not become a concern only when a missing-person notice is being shared widely.

I hope that this attention lasts longer and eventually leads to more practical safety education, more effective public protection, and greater respect for victims and their families.

As for Lisa, I do not think her death needs to be explained away with any further argument.

She was only 13.

She should have had so much more life ahead of her.

May she rest in peace, and may her family be given the peace and privacy they deserve in their grief.