Politics USA Women

Missing and murdered indigenous women

A group of native American women are riding motorcycle tours to raise awareness of the problem of the many missing and murdered indigenous people.

Native female biker activist: Riding for Recilience.

In front of a large white wall are standing 16 women, dressed in traditional robes of their respective tribes. Red and black are the dominant colors. Hard to believe, I think, that just a day ago these women were in thick black motorcycle suits.

The women have covered more than 1,200 miles together on their motorcycles in the last five days. Sometimes they rode in scorching heat of almost 100 degrees. From Phoenix, Arizona, through Colorado, Wyoming and Montana to Rapid City in South Dakota. Here, at the Oyae Luta Okolakiciye (translated: moving forward in a sacred way) Community Development Center, they are screening a documentary film this Friday about their 2022 motorcycle tour. The title of the film, “We Ride for Her,” represents what the 16 indigenous women are doing: riding for loved ones who have been murdered or are still missing.

With their motorcycle tours, the biker activists want to draw attention to their fate – and to the big problem behind it: a mixture of domestic violence, sexual assault, poverty, and human trafficking. In addition, they want to break the silence with which many of their communities still react to the phenomenon of the murdered and missing in their midst. Indigenous women experience murder, violence and trafficking at 4-10 times the national rate. Not only Native American women are affected, but also Alaskan and Hawaiian women. So are indigenous women across the border in Canada. And, though less frequently, men and boys.

One woman after another tells for whom she personally rides this motorcycle tour. Luvy starts. Her voice trembles, every now and then she pauses before continuing to speak. Two years ago, her son disappeared. Since then she has been waiting, day after day, for him to reappear. Or be found. Maybe dead.

Luvy’s son is missing ©Rebecca Hillauer

The activists come from different tribes, and some from even farther away than Phoenix, where they started to ride together: from Utah, Southern California, Texas, Lisa even from Hawaii. Heather, missing her sister, is here without a motorcycle. The activists wrap her in a large handmade blanket. And hug her. Heather sobs loudly. The women take her into their midst and form a protective cocoon around her as her sobs continue to be heard. The rest of the room is dead silent.

In the USA and Canada, there is now a day of remembrance for missing and murdered indigenous people at the beginning of May. The biker activists call their group and the tours they ride Medicine Wheel Ride, because they are also concerned with alleviating the emotions and traumas of relatives and providing not only comfort but also strength. For this purpose, the women are riding a tour at the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally again this year. The largest biker gathering in the world next to Daytona started that day – just a half-hour drive from Rapid City. The film screening here at the Community Center is to get in the mood for the Medicine Wheel Ride in Sturgis.

On Sunday, at 7:30 a.m., registration begins. I am amazed: The parking lot in front of the Education Center in Bear Butte National Park is already fully parked with dozens of Harleys and other motorcycles at this early hour. Many bikers are not indigenous and wear well-groomed three-day beards. More than 200 supporters, women and men, rode this Medicine Wheel Ride last year in solidarity with them, an activist tells us in greeting.

Bear Butte, the hill in the background for which the national park is named, is sacred to indigenous people. Photography is therefore prohibited. In his short speech, a tribal elder reminds us that we are all standing on stolen land that still legally belongs to the indigenous people of this region. “All those who are here now and not indigenous are therefore our guests today,” he says.

Then it finally gets going: gas pedals are stepped on and engines of more than a hundred machines hum away. The motorcycle caravan starts to move. This year for the first time escorted by a policeman on a motorcycle. The ride will be a good 100 kilometers and 2 hours long. The 16 activists ride in front. On several motorcycles red ribbons flutter in the wind. On them, the women have written the names of those for whom they are riding this tour.


I’ll get into background in detail and individual cases in my radio feature to come. So stay tuned.

This article/report was produced in-house. Support me to work independently, with a donation. Thank you.