A child is not merely the life of a family; children are also the life of a state. They are the ones who will take charge of the state in the future.
In every age and every society, children are among the most precious members of the community. Yet when one of those children goes missing, it is as though time stops only for that child’s family.
The clock keeps ticking, and the life of the city continues as usual. People go to work, markets open, and vehicles move along the roads. Only one family remains waiting—where is their child, how are they, are they still alive? What greater punishment could there be than such uncertainty?
According to figures from the police headquarters, 15,717 general diaries (GDs) concerning missing children were filed during the first seven months of 2026. Of them, 2,038 children have not yet been found. Police say that 90 to 95 percent of missing children are eventually rescued.
Undoubtedly, the number of children who are recovered is important; but can we truly comprehend the suffering of the families of the more than 2,000 children who remain missing?
Recent cases involving missing children in Bangladesh have once again brought this grim reality to the forefront. Habibullah Naim, a sixth-grade student from Khilkhet in Dhaka, left home on September 17 and never returned. His family said that an unidentified person demanded money from his mobile phone.
The family also alleged that the police were reluctant to accept a general diary until 24 hours had passed since his disappearance. The case of 13-year-old Arafat Hossain Riyad of Dakshinkhan raises similar questions.
He left home in March to go for prayers and never returned. His family has been searching for him for six months. Yet, according to the family, the police did not take sufficient initiative to investigate possible leads, including CCTV footage from the area.
Meanwhile, the disappearance and subsequent recovery of the body of 13-year-old Ishayat Shahriar, also known as Opritom, in Cumilla has caused deep concern among the public.
Several people known to Opritom have been detained in connection with his disappearance and the subsequent recovery of his body. The question is: after a child goes missing, are we using the most precious window of time—the time when the chances of rescuing the child may be greatest—as effectively as possible?
A recent report by an international media outlet on missing children in Bangladesh stated that there is currently no specialized police unit dedicated to responding immediately to cases of missing children.
Yet, according to those concerned, the first few hours after a disappearance are extremely important. If CCTV footage can be collected, mobile-phone locations traced, possible routes investigated, and information about suspects gathered quickly during this period, the chances of rescuing a child can increase in many cases.
This is where the question of the state’s capacity comes to the fore. If, after a child goes missing, a family first faces difficulties filing a general diary at a police station, then has to move from one office to another, and eventually waits for public sympathy after circulating the child’s photograph on social media, questions will inevitably arise about the effectiveness of modern technology, the extensive law-enforcement apparatus, and the administrative structure.
It is true that some children leave home out of resentment, because of family conflict, academic pressure, or the influence of friends. But at the moment a child goes missing, there is no way to know whether that child will return safely or has fallen into the hands of criminals. Therefore, every such case must be treated with the highest priority from the very beginning.
Families also have a responsibility. They must remain attentive to where their children go, whom they associate with, and what kinds of difficulties they may be facing.
But family vigilance can never be a substitute for the state’s responsibility. A child going missing is an urgent warning not only for the family but also for society and the state. We must not fail to recognize that warning.