Namibian men are being urged to speak more openly about mental illness, emotional distress and suicidal thoughts. It is an appeal that deserves far more than another awareness campaign or a few speeches at a conference. It requires the country to confront one of the most deeply embedded expectations in our society: that a man must endure his problems silently.
For generations, many Namibian men have been taught that vulnerability is weakness, that asking for help is an admission of failure and that a man must remain strong regardless of what is happening inside him.
But the consequences of that silence are becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
Namibia’s suicide statistics provide perhaps the starkest evidence. According to the Ministry of Health and Social Services, 542 suicides were recorded during the 2023/24 financial year. Of those, 449 were men, more than 82% of all reported suicide deaths. Eight boys and five girls were also among those who died.
The figures should disturb every Namibian household.
They tell us that this is not simply a question of individual men struggling privately with depression, anxiety, financial pressures, relationship problems, grief, substance abuse or feelings of inadequacy. It is a national social crisis.
The World Health Organization has previously found that Namibia’s suicide mortality rate is substantially higher among males than females. Its evaluation of WHO’s contribution to Namibia noted that, in 2019, the suicide mortality rate for men was 14.2 per 100,000, more than five times the female rate of 2.2 per 100,000.
And the crisis has not disappeared.
Between January and March 2025, police recorded 124 suicides, of which 108 were men.
The United Nations describes suicide as a major global public-health concern and says it is the third leading cause of death among people aged 15 to 29.
These statistics, however, only tell us about the men who reached the final point of despair.
They tell us almost nothing about the thousands who are struggling but have not sought help.
That is where the national conversation about men’s mental health must go deeper.
We need to stop asking only why men die and begin asking how men live before they reach that point.
A man who cannot speak about his depression may instead become withdrawn. A father battling anxiety may become irritable or emotionally unavailable to his children. A husband under unbearable financial pressure may retreat into alcohol. A young man who feels he has failed may become aggressive because anger is the only emotion he has been taught is acceptable.
And the family lives with the consequences.
A wife may find herself married to a man who is physically present but emotionally absent. Children may grow up believing that their father does not care because he never explains what he is experiencing. A family may spend years coping with alcoholism, domestic conflict, financial instability or unexplained anger without understanding that the man at the centre of it may be battling a serious mental-health problem.
And when suicide occurs, the consequences do not end with the death.
A child loses a father.
A woman loses a husband.
Parents bury a son.
Siblings lose a brother.
Friends lose someone whose pain they may never have recognised.
And families are often left asking the most agonising question of all: Why didn’t he tell us?
Perhaps the more uncomfortable question is: Did we create a society in which he felt he could?
Men must certainly be encouraged to speak. But responsibility cannot be placed entirely on men. Families, workplaces, churches, traditional authorities, schools, sports clubs and communities must create environments in which men can speak without immediately being judged, ridiculed or told to “be strong”.
There is also a danger in reducing men’s mental-health problems to suicide alone. Mental illness does not always announce itself dramatically. Sometimes it looks like a man working excessively because he cannot sit with his thoughts. Sometimes it looks like drinking every evening. Sometimes it looks like anger. Sometimes it looks like isolation. Sometimes it looks like refusing to answer the question, “Are you okay?”
A recent Namibian study of adults receiving antiretroviral therapy found that 21% screened positive for suicidality, while depression was strongly associated with suicidal ideation. The study also found a high prevalence of alcohol-use disorder, particularly among male participants. Its authors pointed to traditional masculine expectations such as self-reliance and emotional stoicism as possible contributors to men’s reluctance to seek help.
That finding deserves serious consideration.
Namibian men should not have to wait until they are contemplating suicide before they are permitted to say, “I am not coping.”
We need a culture in which a father can tell his son that he is struggling. A husband can tell his wife that he is overwhelmed. A businessman can admit that his company is failing without believing that his identity has failed with it. A young man can say that he is frightened about his future without being mocked.
And perhaps most importantly, we need men to understand that seeking professional help is not surrender.
It is responsibility.
There is nothing courageous about allowing untreated distress to destroy oneself and the people one loves.
The real courage lies in saying: I need help.
Namibia has begun strengthening its mental-health response, including efforts to integrate mental-health services into primary healthcare and the introduction of the Mental Health Bill in 2025. The WHO has also emphasised the importance of breaking stigma, creating safe spaces and ensuring that people in distress can seek help.
But legislation and health services cannot solve a problem that society continues to stigmatise.
The conversation must begin in homes.
Let us teach our boys that masculinity is not measured by how much pain they can hide. Let us teach fathers that their children need their honesty as much as their financial provision. Let us tell husbands that vulnerability does not diminish their authority.
And let us remind every Namibian man who is suffering silently that his family does not need him to be invincible.
