As a Black mother of two children in Toronto, Nikki Buchanan lives in constant fear for her 18-year-old son.
Although he is a young man now, he is still her baby and with Black teenage boys disappearing at alarming rates, she cannot afford to let her guard down.
“I keep his location on my phone, call and text him often, not to control him, but to protect him,” Buchanan said. “Some may say I am overbearing, but they do not understand the fear that strikes when he is out late or does not respond right away.
“In a world that too often devalues Black boys, I refuse to take chances,” she said.
Statistics revealed in 2024 that more than half of the 200 youths reporting missing in Toronto were Black and aged between 12 and 17.
Toronto Police Detective Shona Patterson, with the Missing Persons Unit, said 110 of these missing youths were from the Black community. Most have been located.
However, two 15-year-olds remain missing. Makhei was last seen on Dec. 31, 2024, at 4 p.m. in the Lawrence Avenue East and Morningside Avenue area of Scarborough.
Jeffrey was last seen on Monday, Jan. 13, 2025, at 10 a.m., in the Weston and Rogers Roads area.
David Mitchell, who is the senior director of operations for the Youth Association for Academics, Athletics, and Character Education (YAAACE) based in North York, says they're trying to determine the issues behind the disappearances.
“In the whole piece of a missing person as it pertains to young people, what we say is young people are running away from something, or to something," he said. "So, there is a number of things that are happening there.”
Nevertheless, Black youths go missing at an alarming rate.
Growing up in the Black community, Buchanan vowed to be a voice for the young teens around her son.
“My vigilance is not just for him. It’s for all our sons. They deserve to know they are loved, valued, and protected,” she said.
Nicole Jenkins, 36, raised her only child Rashaun in the Jane Street and Sheppard Avenue area and says it hurts her heart to hear these stories.
“As a mother of a 16-year-old Black son, the reality of hearing about young Black boys going missing weighs heavily on my heart every single day”, she said.
“The fear of the unknown constantly looms over me, knowing that my child, like so many others, can easily become a target, simply because of his skin colour,” Jenkins said.
She checks in on him every day, calling and texting between classes, hoping for a quick response, just to know he is safe.
“I send messages after school, asking him to share his location or let me know where he’s going,” Jenkins said.
“It’s not just about keeping track of his whereabouts. It’s about trying to protect him from a world that doesn’t always value his life.”
She also prioritizes knowing who his friends are and where they spend their time, having an idea of his hangout spots.
These efforts may seem small, but they are her way of staying involved and ensuring her son is not overlooked.
“I know that these personal safety measures can only go so far. The city must step up and create strategic initiatives that prioritize the Black youths,” she said.
These initiatives should foster an environment where young Black folks are not only participants but also leaders.
“It’s time for a change, and it starts with us all coming together to protect and uplift our young Black boys,” Jenkins said.
“They deserve more than just survival. They deserve to thrive,” she said.
