This text is not a report, an investigation, or an argument.
These are impressions I have received through my spiritual work—as a response to a fate that has deeply moved many people.
Hilal was a friendly child. One would probably describe her as well-mannered. She was rather reserved and polite toward strangers. But at home—there she could be cheeky and stubborn—just a perfectly normal child.
On the day she went to the shopping center just to grab a quick treat, she ran into a man she already knew. It was a fleeting encounter. A man from Turkey who didn’t speak German well and asked Hilal for help. She knew him as a colleague of her father’s—not a direct colleague, but someone who was friends with someone—that kind of superficial acquaintance.
The man knew what he was doing, because Hilal had already caught his eye during their previous encounter. He approached her directly and asked for her help. She agreed and followed him to his white van. Before she fully understood what was happening, he had already pulled her inside the vehicle.
The man was someone who could probably be described as a “freelance trader.” His van was stocked with all kinds of household items, from appliances like microwaves to lampshades. He was transporting them from Germany to Turkey.
In fact, after the incident, he never returned to Germany.
However, since this was by no means unusual behavior for him, it didn’t strike anyone he knew in Germany as odd. He has since died of cancer. He lived in Turkey in modest circumstances. The van he used to abduct Hilal is actually still sitting in an abandoned courtyard, stripped of its saleable parts, but still there.
A silent witness. Perhaps even the only witness in this case.
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