Meeting William Njogu for the first time, his bubbly personality makes you feel like you’ve known him your entire life.
However, behind that gummy smile is pain, pain you might not notice if you’re not keen enough.
“I think from my teen years, I quickly learned to mask my true emotions. Nobody cares about a sad person, so my façade of a bubbly personality will have to do until I truly get to know you and let you in,” Njogu says.
Speaking to The Star, Njogu recalls when he first realised he was struggling with depression.
“When I was 13, I started feeling different from my friends. There were times when I felt normal, but suddenly, I would experience intense sadness and resignation. During such moments, the daily football practices that were the highlight of my day became more of a chore," he says.
"The only thing I could do was crawl into bed, draw the curtains, and sleep. I would prolong my sleep as long as it took to ride out my emotional turbulence. I was consumed by guilt. In my eyes, I didn’t deserve to harbour any negativity towards life. My parents were fairly affluent, and I got whatever I requested. Why would a boy enjoying a soft life be sad? When my low moments worsened, my parents forcefully took me to a psychologist, who diagnosed me with extreme depression."
"The weekly therapy sessions I’ve been attending feel vain, in my opinion. I have yet to uncover the root cause of my depression, and the hour-long sessions that feel more like interrogations end up plummeting my mood further. I’m just trying to take it a day at a time, with my smile plastered on my face,” Njogu explains.
The events that led to Mirriam Chepkirui’s post-traumatic stress disorder are gruesome.
Five years ago, when she was 17, her family went out for their usual Sunday outing.
“My parents had gone to assist our elderly aunt to the washroom, leaving me in charge of my younger sister. She kept nagging me to take her to the swimming pool a few paces away from where we were seated," Mirriam says.
"I wasn’t in the mood and just wanted to enjoy my fried chicken in peace. I assured her we would swim an hour later after we were done eating, but she wouldn’t listen. Trying not to snap at her, I busied myself scrolling on my phone as I listened to the loud music from the restaurant. Fifteen minutes later, I heard muffled screams from the swimming pool."
"Shooting up, I couldn’t believe my eyes, it was my sister. Sprinting past the lifeguard who was about to jump in, I dived into the water to rescue her."
According to Mirriam, by the time she laid her beside the pool, a crowd had gathered, and her parents arrived frantically.
She says resuscitation attempts by the lifeguard proved futile. In a panic, her parents rushed her to the local hospital.
"Unfortunately, the doctor confirmed that my sister had died. According to him, food particles from the lunch we had just eaten had blocked her airways, making resuscitation extremely difficult. To this day, I can’t stand the sight of a pool, lake, or ocean. It reminds me back to that horrendous day when my sister drowned. On more nights than I care to count, I’m jolted awake by the muffled screams of her drowning,” she says.
Opening up to The Star, Sam Kioko details how his bipolar disorder ruined a relationship he once saw leading to marriage.
“In our first year, my girlfriend didn’t notice I had bipolar disorder because we were long-distance. She assumed my sudden outbursts were mood swings, though more intense in my case. That year, I toiled hard to regulate my emotions. I wanted to be better, better for the woman of my dreams," Kioko says.
"She was a true gem who wholeheartedly loved me, at least the version of myself I showed her. When she moved back to Nairobi, I was excited to progress our budding love. The first misstep was allowing her to move in with me. In this setup, I could no longer hide my mental health struggle. The angel she was, she tried to put up with my outbursts, blaming them on mood swings. But one night broke the camel’s back."
She had prepared delicious matoke and meat stew, my favourite, to celebrate my promotion. Out of the blue, I began yelling at her for making a meal I didn’t want.
Confused, she softly reminded me that I was the one who said it was my favourite. Getting more agitated, I threw the bowl of stew at the wall.
When I came out of my trance, I looked at my girlfriend. Her face, devoid of emotion, told me all I needed to know.
Coming from an abusive family, I knew physical altercations were a boundary she could never compromise on,” Kioko says regretfully.
For Mercy Gathoni, her mental health struggles stemmed from her traumatic high school experience.
“I’ve always been a bigger girl since childhood. Back then, people found my baby fat adorable. But things changed drastically when I got to high school," Mercy says.
From the first day, the popular girls ridiculed me. They called me ugly and said no man would ever want to marry me.
The constant jabs about my weight eventually got to me, and I developed intense body dysmorphia. When I asked my parents to transfer me to another school, they urged me to toughen up. To them, the first year of high school is bound to be torturous.
Giving up, I resigned myself to an eating disorder that had already started brewing. It was a random Tuesday during lunch break when I started purging.
On my lowest days, I would purge four times a day, eventually puking blood. Sadly, I still purge,” Gathoni reveals.
According to Michael Otieno, a therapist, parents play a crucial role in their children’s mental health.
“Gone are the days when parents swept deteriorating mental health under the rug," he says.
Parents shape their children’s mental health by providing a foundation of security, emotional support, and healthy coping mechanisms.
"Conversations about mental health, though uncomfortable, must happen between parents and children. Without these hard conversations, children will slip through the cracks and grow into young adults with unhealthy coping mechanisms for their struggles,” Otieno affirms.
