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Sugar and Spice… Suicide in the City

A body hanging in a tree by a piece of rope, a belt, even a piece of wire. Blood splattered against bedroom walls. An empty pill bottle found still clutched in a cold, lifeless hand. An ignored plea for help, written off as “just seeking for attention”.

Latent mental illness – undisclosed, undiagnosed and untreated. A grieving family left with no explanations, no answers, nothing but inexplicable grief. Welcome to Namibia. First known as the land of the passion killings, and now – the land of the suicides.

We hear about people like David de Jay, Lucia Kaunamwene Mwaalwa and Loise Kaambu and we click our tongues, we shake our heads, we heave deep sighs to demonstrate our disappointment, our dismay and ultimately, our disillusion. Disillusion because we say things like “no one is worth killing yourself over”, “suicide is never the answer” and “taking your life is never necessary”, but we never address the root of the problem, we never do anything to air out our nation’s latest festering sore.

“Have you ever thought about how you would do it?” I ask my friend. My question is met by a furrow of brows. Confusion. Obvious discomfort. I know, it’s not an easy question to answer. Some would call me callous for asking it. Insensitive, even. But in my mind, it’s a necessary topic of conversation. Because suicide, as much as we only dare to whisper about it, as much as we shake our heads disapprovingly when we hear about it – is a reality.

Living in a country with a suicide rate amongst the highest in the world (see Denver Kisting’s article published in The Namibian on 18 March 2014), we can no longer afford to tiptoe around the topic in hopes that it will go away. We can no longer speak of mental illness in hushed tones in an attempt to pretend that depression, bipolar disorder and schizophrenia are ‘white diseases’; ailments that only happen to ‘other people’.

As long as we speak of suicide being the “coward’s way out”, of it being “selfish”, of it being “stupid”, we will never get to the bottom of the problem – that every day Namibians are faced with so much pain and anguish that the only way out they can see is to take their own lives. While we may not understand it, while we may not agree with it and while we may never make peace with it, people are desperately trying to find a way to end their pain. Because sometimes that’s just how sorrow seems: Unconquerable.

Until we create open channels of communication where suicide and mental illness can be discussed openly and without fear and prejudice, this sore will never heal. It will continue to fester until our country becomes nothing but death and decay. Until we take the time to understand what someone who has been thinking of suicide is going through – really going through – Namibia will never heal.

It’s time for us as a nation to talk about suicide. Openly. And honestly. Because the truth is, one conversation could save a life.

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