For the better part of this year, I have been living in the same house with a group of people with diverse mental health conditions. It is not a place I imagined myself being, and it is not an experience I ever thought I would use to educate others. Yet, being here has stirred something deep within me. I have developed a strong desire to understand what truly goes on in such spaces, not just within the walls of the home, but within the minds and lives of the people who are here.
Every day, I interact with people living with mental disorders. I listen to them. I observe them. I sit with their stories, their silence, their confusion, and sometimes their pain. Through these daily interactions, I have come to realize something important—something that I believe needs to be said openly, clearly, and without fear.
In many African communities, mental illness is often misunderstood. Where I come from, it is common to hear people say that someone with a mental health condition is dealing with cultural issues they have not fulfilled, or that they are bewitched. These explanations are deeply rooted in tradition and belief, but they cause great harm. They make it very difficult for people to accept that mental illness is, in fact, an illness—just like any other.
It is not easy to convince someone that a person can suffer from mental health challenges in the same way they can suffer from flu, diabetes, cancer, or kidney disease. Mental disorders are often treated as something mysterious or supernatural, rather than medical. But what I have learned is simple and profound: mental disorders are brain disorders.
There are real changes that happen in the brain. These changes affect how a person thinks, how they feel, and how they experience the world around them. They alter mood, sometimes causing it to shift unpredictably. They influence emotions, interactions, and the ability to cope with the ordinary demands of life. These are not imagined problems. They are not signs of weakness. They are biological and chemical changes occurring in the brain.
When the brain is affected, mental disorders begin to appear. And once they do, we start seeing symptoms. We see depression. We see anxiety. We see emotional distress. We see people struggling to connect with others or to function in ways they once could. These signs are visible every day, especially in places like where I am now.
What has become even clearer to me is that many people live with mental health conditions without realizing it. Their condition may not have reached an extreme level, so it goes unnoticed or unaddressed. What society often sees are only the extreme cases—the ones that can no longer be ignored. Those are the moments when people finally seek medication, support, or professional care. But before things reach that point, most people do not seek help. They wait. They endure. They hide. They hope it will pass. And in that waiting, the condition often worsens.
This is where my message begins to take shape. Mental disorders are caused by biological changes in the brain, and people need to seek medication and support early. Waiting until things become extreme only increases suffering—for the individual and for those around them. Early intervention matters. Early support matters.
Every day, I interact with people living with mental disorders. I listen to them. I observe them. I sit with their stories, their silence, their confusion, and sometimes their pain. Through these daily interactions, I have come to realize something important—something that I believe needs to be said openly, clearly, and without fear.
In many African communities, mental illness is often misunderstood. Where I come from, it is common to hear people say that someone with a mental health condition is dealing with cultural issues they have not fulfilled, or that they are bewitched. These explanations are deeply rooted in tradition and belief, but they cause great harm. They make it very difficult for people to accept that mental illness is, in fact, an illness—just like any other.
It is not easy to convince someone that a person can suffer from mental health challenges in the same way they can suffer from flu, diabetes, cancer, or kidney disease. Mental disorders are often treated as something mysterious or supernatural, rather than medical. But what I have learned is simple and profound: mental disorders are brain disorders.
There are real changes that happen in the brain. These changes affect how a person thinks, how they feel, and how they experience the world around them. They alter mood, sometimes causing it to shift unpredictably. They influence emotions, interactions, and the ability to cope with the ordinary demands of life. These are not imagined problems. They are not signs of weakness. They are biological and chemical changes occurring in the brain.
When the brain is affected, mental disorders begin to appear. And once they do, we start seeing symptoms. We see depression. We see anxiety. We see emotional distress. We see people struggling to connect with others or to function in ways they once could. These signs are visible every day, especially in places like where I am now.
What has become even clearer to me is that many people live with mental health conditions without realizing it. Their condition may not have reached an extreme level, so it goes unnoticed or unaddressed. What society often sees are only the extreme cases—the ones that can no longer be ignored. Those are the moments when people finally seek medication, support, or professional care. But before things reach that point, most people do not seek help. They wait. They endure. They hide. They hope it will pass. And in that waiting, the condition often worsens.
This is where my message begins to take shape. Mental disorders are caused by biological changes in the brain, and people need to seek medication and support early. Waiting until things become extreme only increases suffering—for the individual and for those around them. Early intervention matters. Early support matters.
Equally important is the need to end stigma. Mental health should not be treated differently from physical health. A person living with depression or anxiety deserves the same understanding as someone living with diabetes or cancer. With proper medication, proper care, and consistent support, mental health conditions can be managed. People can survive. People can live meaningful lives despite these conditions. This is what I want to talk about. Nothing more, nothing less. My goal is not to judge, but to educate. Not to blame, but to create awareness. This is where my story begins.
