The silent crisis: Men’s mental health

Across Kenya and the world, men are suffering quietly — and the silence is costing lives

By Wanjohi P. Mugambi

We have built a world where a man is taught to be strong, not vulnerable. To provide, not to feel. To endure, not to express. From boyhood, the script is familiar: be a man, men don’t cry, toughen up. And so men learn to bury it — the heartbreak, the pressure, the failure, the fear, the loneliness. They smile at work. They laugh in the group chat. They post “I’m good” while quietly drowning.

The truth is simple, and it needs saying plainly: men bleed too. Just not always where anyone can see it.

Strength is not the absence of emotion. A man who cries is not weak — he is human. Real strength is not pretending you feel no pain. Real strength is admitting you do, and choosing to keep going anyway. We applaud men for being pillars. But even pillars crack when they are never allowed to rest.

The weight carried in silence

Consider what is expected of a man. He must succeed at all costs. He must never show vulnerability. He must remain financially, emotionally and mentally stable for everyone around him. He must solve problems, never talk about them. When he loses a job, he cannot grieve openly. When a relationship ends, he must move on without complaint. When he is overwhelmed, he is told to man up.

Where does all that unexpressed pain go? Into anger. Into alcohol. Into isolation. Into depression. Into early death. Kenya loses hundreds of men every year to suicide — and most never told a single person they were struggling.

The numbers make sobering reading. Globally, men are three to four times more likely to die by suicide than women. In Kenya, more than 75 per cent of suicide cases involve men, most aged between 20 and 45. One in three men will experience anxiety or depression during their lifetime, yet fewer than 25 per cent will seek professional help. Rather than talking, many turn to alcohol, drugs, aggression or complete withdrawal from the people who could help them most.

The reasons are not difficult to understand. Culture has long told men that vulnerability is weakness. Stigma means that seeking therapy is still labelled, in many circles, as being unstable or insufficiently masculine. The pressure to provide means a man’s sense of worth becomes inseparable from his income and his success — and when either falters, his identity can collapse alongside it. Many men simply have no one they can speak to with complete honesty about their pain. There is no safe space, so there is no conversation.

What needs to change

To men: it is acceptable to not be fine. Talking is not weakness. Crying does not diminish you. Your emotions are legitimate. Find one person — a trusted friend, a counsellor, a mentor — with whom you can be genuinely honest. Suppressing everything will cause far more damage than any setback ever could.

To women, friends and family: if a man opens up to you, receive it carefully. Do not dismiss it. Do not say you thought he was stronger than that. Do not share what he told you with others. That single moment of openness may have cost him more courage than anything else he has done. Honour it accordingly.

To society more broadly: the way boys are raised needs to change. They can be strong and sensitive. They can lead and still lean on others. They can provide and still be supported emotionally in return. These things are not contradictions. They are what whole, healthy human beings look like.

Men grow anxious before difficult conversations. They grieve after love ends. They lie awake worrying about the future. They grow exhausted from being the steady one that everyone else leans on. Behind every “I’m fine”, there is frequently a story that has not yet found a listener.

Mental health in men is not an abstract concept. It is the emotional, psychological and social wellbeing that shapes how a man thinks, manages stress, relates to those around him and makes decisions. Good mental health does not mean perpetual happiness. It means having the capacity to cope, to regulate emotions and to ask for help when it is needed — without shame.

The path forward is not complicated, though it requires genuine commitment. Therapy and honest conversations about mental health need to be normalised in churches, workplaces, schools and community gatherings. Men need to be asked, directly and sincerely, whether they are truly all right — and then actually listened to when they answer.

Because a mentally healthy man is a better father, a better partner, a better leader and a better human being. And he deserves the same care and compassion that he is so often expected to provide for everyone else.

Men do not need to be fixed. They need to be heard.

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