Can we talk about suicide?

Content warning – this post discusses suicidal feelings

September 10 is World Suicide Prevention Day.

I hope that by sharing my personal experience and insights, others can find courage and be more open to tell their own story.

Over 10 years ago, while coping with some emotional trauma, I mentioned to a friend that I had lost the will to live. The person called a family member who rushed over to help, worried about my safety. I had no intention of harming myself, but I was extremely distraught. All I wanted to do was close my eyes and somehow will myself into a long, dreamless sleep so I wouldn’t have to feel anything, ever again.

I just needed the pain to stop. Un/luckily, I had insomnia. I was disrupted by street noises, phone calls and door knocks, and was not happy about it. But for a moment, I stopped thinking about what seemed to be, a hopeless situation. It wasn’t hopeless. I made it through.

Sometimes, that’s all it takes. A phone ringing. A knock on the door. A voice of hope. A reminder that we’re not alone. Someone cares.

However, every individual and every situation is different. So, it is important to ask and listen to what the person is going through and what they need, then offer to help.

In many countries, there are suicide prevention hotlines where the person having suicidal thoughts can get help without any judgment. Sadly, not every country has enough resources, partly because suicide is still widely regarded as taboo.

Having spent most of my adult life in North America, I was sensitized in many issues surrounding mental health. However, in some countries such as in Tanzania, it is usually still taboo to talk about suicide. In fact, some people may not even consider suicide to be a mental health issue.

As such, generally there is a lack of sensitivity around the language used to talk about suicide. Often, people use harmful language, make jokes, and bully anyone who dares to speak about suicide/having suicidal thoughts or any other mental health issue. This problem is amplified in online spaces where normally there is no censorship when the language used is Kiswahili.

It is within that context that I would like to describe a teachable moment that I experienced while working with a group of college students in Tanzania. The incident happened about five years ago, but the memory is still fresh in my mind.

We were in the middle of a discussion, when suddenly, the group burst into laughter as they stared at their phones. When I asked what they were laughing about, they said a street mob had attacked a man as punishment for attempting suicide. There was a video of the mob attack. They thought it was hilarious. I was quite shocked!

At first, I thought the story had to be a bad joke, right? It wasn’t. It was all over social media, with similar reactions from many Tanzanians. Making jokes. Condemning the man for his actions. Praising the mob.

The young fellows were seriously enjoying themselves at this man’s expense. In my mind, I thought they were too young to understand. So being the wise woman that I thought I was, I decided to school them. I explained that what the mob did was wrong, inhumane and not funny at all. The man needed help, not punishment, I told them.

They were confused. They tried to justify the mob’s actions and their own reactions. They didn’t share any of my concerns. They strongly believed that the man got the punishment that he deserved for what they considered to be “attempted murder”, of himself. To them, that was justice. The same kind of mob justice often applied to thieves and burglars in Tanzania.

Instead of me schooling them, the young fellows schooled me, on how the issue of suicide was perceived in Tanzania. I was grateful for the eye opening lesson. It made me want to explore more about the topic.

I had plenty of questions. How many people in Tanzania need help but can’t get it because those around them don’t care or don’t understand what the person is going through? Instead of help, they get ridiculed and punished?

My search for answers led me to a disturbing discovery, that in some countries, suicide/attempted suicide is still considered a crime. Some, if not all of these laws were written in previous centuries when anything related to mental health was even more demonized than it is today. Some religious teachings contribute to that stigma as well.

So, to get some perspective and expand my understanding, I tried to start a conversation with a couple of my Tanzanian friends who had previously lived in North America. Specifically, I wanted to know their thoughts and share my own, on the concept of suicide as a mental health issue, rather than a criminal offense. As soon as they heard the S-word, and before I could even explain why I brought it up, they completely shut me down-adamantly telling me not to speak about such matters.

Yes, another teachable moment. I was shocked and disappointed. Given their life experience and educational background, I had expected them to be more aware and open to the subject. It was hard to believe how insensitive their reaction was.

What if someone in their lives needed help? Would they know what to do? Or even care? Shutting someone down when they want to talk about suicide can have devastating effects depending on the person’s state of mind. Listening and talking can literally save someone’s life.

Once again, I got schooled. I felt let down, but grateful for the lesson. It clarified to me that the young fellows’ views were the rule, not the exception. At the time, awareness about mental health was picking up speed around the world. But in Tanzania, most people were still reluctant to join the conversation.

So, I didn’t bring up the issue with anyone else for a while. I hesitated to even post about it on social media because it seemed too sensitive for the Tanzanian society. I was also worried that if I questioned the “system”, it might be misinterpreted as breaking the law. Like everything else was during that infamous era. So, I stayed silent.

A few years later, a family friend died by suicide. It was such a devastating loss for so many people. It is not my place to describe the details and circumstance surrounding the tragedy, nor is it advised to openly share such information as it may generate strong emotions from some people. But, I bring it up because even though it is not my story to tell, it is connected to my story.

At the time of this tragedy, I was personally going through a difficult time. After years of being a single mother, I was finally able to shift some of my energy towards healing from my traumatic past. Once again, I felt the hopelessness of my situation. The pain had resurfaced, more powerful than ever before. Unfortunately, revisiting trauma, can sometimes be traumatic in and of itself.

The timing of the friend’s death by suicide, coinciding with my feelings of hopelessness, was as brutal as it was a wake up call.

I felt broken. Numb. As if I was staring into the abyss…wondering…could I be next? Is this the end of my story? Does anyone care?

I kept thinking about the friend’s tragic ending. The painful details. The lingering questions for those left behind. The life not lived.

That was not the ending I wanted for my story. That is not the ending anyone wants for their story, no matter how hopeless it may seem.

I reminded myself, of the life still to be lived. The story yet to be told. Memories to be made.

For years, as I tried to live through my pain, I had avoided talking about having suicidal thoughts. This time around, there was no escaping it. I had to face it. So I talked to those closest to me. The ones I hold nearest and dearest. They cared.

They always care. I got through it.

But still, as time went by, the stigma around suicide still bothered me. So I wrote a short piece about my experience and shared it with several people. They expressed their support. And then, nothing. Most of them didn’t show any interest in discussing it further. So I promised myself I’ll keep bringing it up. Until someone starts listening, and talking.

Globally, there has been some progress in raising awareness about mental health, and that’s great. But generally talking about suicide is still taboo; and in some places, suicide/attempted suicide is still a crime. That needs to change. But the laws will not be changed unless we demand them to be changed.

As I was writing this story, by pure chance and without me asking, someone confided in me about how they had struggled to find reasons to stay alive while grieving the loss of their loved one. Thankfully, they got through it and are now finding joy again in their life.

I knew this person was going through a difficult time, but I didn’t know how hopeless they felt. So why didn’t they tell me? Because I never asked.

Why didn’t I ask? Because, in a society where talking about suicide is generally regarded as taboo, asking someone if they’re having suicidal thoughts can come across as offensive. I was grateful that they finally felt comfortable enough to open up to me, and I promised to keep the conversation going.

So, on this year’s World Suicide Prevention Day and beyond, let’s break the taboo and talk about the S-word. Let’s start and keep the conversation going with loved ones and strangers alike. We need to remember those who tragically died by suicide, those who survived it, those bereaved by suicide, those who are struggling to find reasons to stay alive, as well as those providing care and support to someone who’s struggling.

If we truly care about mental health and saving lives, we must keep an open mind and be willing to de-stigmatize and de-criminalize suicide. Start the conversation. Create safe spaces. Share our stories. Be the voices of hope.

Because right now, there is a person out there who is feeling hopeless-and they need to know-someone cares. Their life matters. Their story is not over.

Be their voice of hope.

Don’t judge.

Show empathy.

Ask. Listen. Talk. Help.

This is a personal story with personal views not intended to provide any professional advice.

If you have found this story upsetting, you can call, text or email trusted support organisations or helplines below:

Find a helpline by country:

https://findahelpline.com/

When talking about suicide, language matters:

https://www.psychology.org.au/publications/inpsych/2013/february/beaton

Decriminalising Suicide: Saving Lives, Reducing Stigma:

https://unitedgmh.org/suicide-decriminalisation

Information on anti-suicide laws in Africa:

https://www.umes.edu/uploadedFiles/_WEBSITES/AJCJS/Content/VOL9.%20ADINKRAH%20FINAL.pdf

For more information on suicide prevention, please visit WHO: Suicide