Health crisis: We need to talk about suicide
OPINION
Namibia is in the grip of a devastating mental health crisis – one that too often goes unnoticed, unspoken and untreated.
Suicide, a word we hesitate to say out loud, has quietly become one of the leading causes of unnatural death in our country.
Every year, hundreds of Namibians take their own lives. According to statistics from the Namibian Police, more than 500 suicides were reported in 2023 alone – the vast majority were men, but increasingly, women and children are also affected.
These numbers are not just statistics; they are our brothers, daughters, uncles, students and neighbours.
This crisis is no longer something I just read about in the newspapers – I have experienced it right to my doorstep.
On a quiet Sunday afternoon in Outjo, Kunene region, my neighbour, a man who lives alone, almost became another name on this tragic list.
We heard strange, choking sounds coming from his house. At first, we weren’t sure what it was. But when we called his name from our yard and got no response, we knew something was wrong.
We entered his yard, and as we approached the door, the sound became even more disturbing – like someone gasping for air or gargling.
Fortunately, the door was unlocked. Inside, we found him hanging from the ceiling, moments from death, struggling to breathe. We managed to get him down quickly. By some grace, we had arrived just in time to save his life. Emergency services were called, and he was referred to social workers. He eventually got the help he needed.
But not everyone gets a second chance.
In 2015, I lost a dear friend to suicide. No note. No goodbye. Just silence. Words left unspoken. If only we had known. If only we had asked. If only he had felt safe enough to speak.
So many Namibians carry similar stories. From Windhoek to Opuwo, from Katima Mulilo to Keetmanshoop, suicide has found its way into our homes, claiming lives and leaving behind grief that often never fully heals.
The pain is made worse by our culture of silence and the stigma that still surrounds mental health.
We often encourage people to “be strong” or to “just pray,” but rarely do we refer them for professional help. In rural areas, such services are scarce. Even in urban centres, mental healthcare remains expensive and difficult to access.
Namibia must act. This is not just a health issue; it is a national emergency.
We need bold, coordinated action:
· Expand community-based mental health services, ensuring trained professionals are available in both rural and urban areas.
· Establish a national suicide prevention helpline – toll-free, confidential and accessible in local languages.
· Integrate mental health education into school curricula so that young people learn how to manage their emotions and seek help.
· Launch public awareness campaigns to fight stigma and encourage people to ask for help.
· Provide training for teachers, police officers and traditional leaders to recognise warning signs and refer individuals to appropriate support.
And on a personal level, we must relearn how to truly care. Ask your friends how they’re really doing. Check in on the quiet neighbour. Listen more. Don’t judge. Often, a single act of compassion can save a life.
Every suicide is a tragedy. Every life lost is one too many. And every survivor is a reminder that help is possible – that healing can happen, but only if we care enough to intervene.
Namibia can no longer remain silent. Let us raise our voices, open our hearts, and build a society where no one has to suffer alone in the dark.
Suicide, a word we hesitate to say out loud, has quietly become one of the leading causes of unnatural death in our country.
Every year, hundreds of Namibians take their own lives. According to statistics from the Namibian Police, more than 500 suicides were reported in 2023 alone – the vast majority were men, but increasingly, women and children are also affected.
These numbers are not just statistics; they are our brothers, daughters, uncles, students and neighbours.
This crisis is no longer something I just read about in the newspapers – I have experienced it right to my doorstep.
On a quiet Sunday afternoon in Outjo, Kunene region, my neighbour, a man who lives alone, almost became another name on this tragic list.
We heard strange, choking sounds coming from his house. At first, we weren’t sure what it was. But when we called his name from our yard and got no response, we knew something was wrong.
We entered his yard, and as we approached the door, the sound became even more disturbing – like someone gasping for air or gargling.
Fortunately, the door was unlocked. Inside, we found him hanging from the ceiling, moments from death, struggling to breathe. We managed to get him down quickly. By some grace, we had arrived just in time to save his life. Emergency services were called, and he was referred to social workers. He eventually got the help he needed.
But not everyone gets a second chance.
In 2015, I lost a dear friend to suicide. No note. No goodbye. Just silence. Words left unspoken. If only we had known. If only we had asked. If only he had felt safe enough to speak.
So many Namibians carry similar stories. From Windhoek to Opuwo, from Katima Mulilo to Keetmanshoop, suicide has found its way into our homes, claiming lives and leaving behind grief that often never fully heals.
The pain is made worse by our culture of silence and the stigma that still surrounds mental health.
We often encourage people to “be strong” or to “just pray,” but rarely do we refer them for professional help. In rural areas, such services are scarce. Even in urban centres, mental healthcare remains expensive and difficult to access.
Namibia must act. This is not just a health issue; it is a national emergency.
We need bold, coordinated action:
· Expand community-based mental health services, ensuring trained professionals are available in both rural and urban areas.
· Establish a national suicide prevention helpline – toll-free, confidential and accessible in local languages.
· Integrate mental health education into school curricula so that young people learn how to manage their emotions and seek help.
· Launch public awareness campaigns to fight stigma and encourage people to ask for help.
· Provide training for teachers, police officers and traditional leaders to recognise warning signs and refer individuals to appropriate support.
And on a personal level, we must relearn how to truly care. Ask your friends how they’re really doing. Check in on the quiet neighbour. Listen more. Don’t judge. Often, a single act of compassion can save a life.
Every suicide is a tragedy. Every life lost is one too many. And every survivor is a reminder that help is possible – that healing can happen, but only if we care enough to intervene.
Namibia can no longer remain silent. Let us raise our voices, open our hearts, and build a society where no one has to suffer alone in the dark.
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Namibian Sun
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