Silence is never the answer

10 September is World Suicide Prevention Day. May this day and every day remind us that there is always hope.

His steps dragged against the earth, weary as if the ground itself resisted carrying him forward. Shoulders slumped, lost in thoughts too heavy for him to bear. He made his way into the kombi and sat at the back, eyes fixed outside the window, but he couldn’t see anything, neither could he hear the chatter around him. His eyes blurred from tears he was trying so hard to hold back. A man must never be seen crying, it was unbecoming. To everyone else he might have seemed like an ordinary guy, making his daily commute after a day’s work but unbeknownst to them, a tornado was brewing in his mind, ready to explode.

He had been rehearsing his exit for a while, knew exactly how he was going to do it, step by step. Some days, he went to bed hoping not to wake up. Every morning felt like a slap in his face, reminder how cruel the hand life was dealing him was. Eventually, he decided that he would rather take the matter into his own hands and end it all, instead of waiting for an uncertain end. He couldn’t bear it.

Lost in the ocean of his own thoughts, he nearly missed his bus stop. He got off and started the short trek home. Home, that place which felt the opposite of safety. There was nothing to look forward to. He sat on his bed in the squalid room he was renting, attached to the landlady’s house. The only light came from the torch on his phone, he couldn’t afford a candle and his electricity had been cut off because he had not contributed his portion.

Any time now, his landlady would knock demanding his rental. He hadn’t been able to pay for the last three months and she was fast losing patience. It was only $40 rent per month! How could he not afford that? The truth was, he really couldn’t.

He had been struggling to secure even the smallest ‘piece jobs’ lately. The few he got over the last few months had paid him a meagre $2 or $5 if he was lucky. Some didn’t even bother to pay him even after he had completed the work. Frustration had become his constant companion. All his life, he had been told that education would open doors to endless opportunities for him. His ailing mother had scrapped together school fees for him, hoping that one day, he would care for her and his younger siblings.

Unfortunately, life had other plans. Six years after graduating from university, he was still unemployed, struggling to make ends meet. With an even bigger burden to take care of his siblings now that his mother had passed away a year after his graduation. Even until her last breath, she carried the hope that his fortunes would turn and he would be able to take care of his siblings. He had lost that hope. Life had squeezed it out of him.

His dinner that night was two slices of plain white bread, leftover from yesterday and a cup of water. Tomorrow’s meal was uncertain, he hoped he wouldn’t be there to face it. He contemplated leaving that night.

Then came a beep from his phone. A text message from his younger sister. She was telling him she had done well in the just ended term. The text message ended with “Thank you Mukoma for everything you do for us.” A flicker of light in the darkness. For the first time in a long time, he smiled. Maybe, just maybe, he would hold on a little longer. For the sake of his siblings. One day, hopefully things would get better. He abandoned his plan. He would stay. A bit longer. For them.

The pain and despair didn’t immediately vanish, but he decided to carry them. One day, then another and hopefully another. He realised that even though he couldn’t magically change his current circumstances, he could shift his mindset, and eventually his story. It didn’t have to end like that.

*Sometimes, life carries untold battles. Some are loud and demand attention. Others, like his, brew quietly, unnoticed. Even the strongest ones among us can break, but there is always hope. We meet each other daily, in the streets, at work, in queues, often unaware of the weight someone is carrying.

This year’s theme for World Suicide Prevention Day is “Changing the Narrative”. It is a reminder that stories like his do not have to end in silence. When we listen, when we notice, when we show compassion; the narrative can be changed. In small gestures, we can remind someone they are not invisible; a message, a call, a question, presence.

Suicide prevention is not only for professionals and institutions. It is also our work; yours and mine. To hold space for others. To offer words of encouragement. To challenge the belief that asking for help equates to weakness. To recognise that even the smallest glimmer of hope can help someone hold on for one more day. And then another.

Maybe you are reading this while carrying your own storm. Or you know someone who is battling theirs in silence. Whichever the case, please remember, the story is not over. Narratives can be changed. Endings can be written. There is always hope.

Silence is never the answer.