26/02/2026
The Silent Struggle: A Tribute and a Call to Check on Your Brothers
This week, I learned of the passing of someone I saw almost daily. He was a familiar face in the neighbourhood, part of the fabric of our community. We weren't close friends, but his absence has created a void, a strange silence in a space he used to occupy.
The whispers say the pressures of this economy became too heavy, and he felt he had no other option. My heart aches for his family, his friends, and for him—that he felt so alone in his pain.
In Zimbabwe, we are seeing a troubling rise in the number of men taking their own lives. We often talk about the economy, the forex rates, and the cost of living. We talk about these things as abstract concepts. But behind every statistic is a man—a father, a brother, a son, a neighbour—who is carrying a burden that has become too heavy.
To the men reading this: A problem shared is indeed a problem half solved.
This is not a sign of weakness. It is an act of courage. The strongest thing you can do is to raise your hand and say, "I am struggling." The pressure to be the provider, the pillar, the one who has it all figured out is immense. But you were never meant to carry it all alone.
Talk to a friend. Talk to a pastor. Talk to a family member. Talk to a professional. There is no shame in seeking help. There is only shame in letting our brothers suffer in silence.
If you are reading this and som**hing feels off about a friend who has gone quiet, who seems withdrawn, or who is making jokes that feel a little too dark, please reach out. A simple "How are you, really?" can be the rope that pulls someone back from the edge.
Rest in peace, neighbour. May we all learn to be a little kinder and a little more present for one another.
If you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out to a trusted person or an organisation like Friendship Bench or your local mental health practitioner. You are not alone.
