

Mercy M* (not her real name) has stared into the abyss more times than she cares to remember.
A mother of six and a staunch Christian, she has tried to take her life six times. Each attempt failed. Today, she believes it was God giving her another chance.
“I survived because someone listened,” she says softly. “Now I do the same for others.”
Her story is just one thread in a larger tapestry of pain. Kenya is confronting a rising tide of suicide, driven by economic hardship, strained relationships, unemployment and the silent weight of mental illness. Experts warn the current crisis cuts across every aspect of life—from the struggle to pay rent to family breakdowns and financial debts.
Globally, the picture is equally stark. More than 700,000 people die by suicide every year, and many more attempt it. The World Health Organization (WHO) ranks suicide as the third leading cause of death among 15–29-year-olds worldwide.
Psychologist Julia Waithera says there are always signs, but too often we fail to notice them. Withdrawal, talk of hopelessness, or even the sudden giving away of prized possessions should not be ignored.
“Some people are pushed by heavy financial burdens, gambling losses or family problems,” she explains.
“When you notice someone becoming withdrawn or behaving differently, be present. Listen without judgement. Ask gently if they are thinking about harming themselves. Be patient and, where possible, offer practical support.”
WHO recommends a range of proven actions through its LIVE LIFE initiative.
These include limiting access to lethal means such as pesticides and firearms, encouraging responsible media reporting on suicide, building life skills among young people and ensuring early identification and follow-up for those at risk. Combined with community support and accessible services, such steps save lives.
Yet barriers remain. In Kenya, stigma and the lingering criminalisation of attempted suicide have kept many from seeking help.
Policy reforms are shifting towards prevention and treatment, but gaps in services, funding and awareness leave too many people to suffer in silence. Under-reporting compounds the problem, masking its true scale.
Still, hope lies in simple human acts. Sitting with someone in despair, asking the hard question—“Are you thinking about killing yourself?”—or walking with them to a counsellor can alter the course of a life. Connection, experts say, is the most powerful antidote to despair.
“Suicide is complex,” Waithera says, “but it is preventable.”
For Mercy, it took one person’s willingness to listen. Now, she spends her days doing the same for others. Her mission is simple: to remind those on the brink that they are not alone, that someone cares, and that tomorrow may yet hold light.
If you or someone you know is in immediate danger, call emergency services or reach out to a crisis helpline right away.
Instant analysis
Kenya’s suicide crisis underscores the urgent need to treat mental health as a public priority rather than a private shame. Behind the statistics are families like Mercy’s, where pain, stigma and silence almost claimed a life. Economic strain, social fractures and inadequate services are fuelling despair, while outdated laws and stigma keep people from seeking help. Yet, the evidence is clear: suicide is preventable. Listening, connecting and guiding someone to care can save lives. Government reforms, coupled with grassroots awareness and community-based support, will determine whether Kenya bends the curve — from crisis to compassion, from silence to survival.