Mental health refers to one’s emotional, psychological and social well- being. It affects how one thinks, feels and behaves and it also determines how one can handle stress, relate to others and make decisions and choices. Thus, good mental health enables you to deal with life’s challenges, realise your potential and abilities, learn and work well, contribute to your community as well as form and maintain healthy relationships. Mental health is an important part of one’s well-being, yet it is one of the most misunderstood and stigmatized aspects of health. It is therefore vital to explore what mental health issues are, why they matter and how societies can better address them.

According to WHO more than one billion people globally live with a mental health condition, making it one of the leading causes of disability worldwide. In Zimbabwe it is a common thing to find mentally challenged people roaming the streets. It is worrisome to note that many more people succumb to stress and depression due to social and economic reasons. Experts describe mental health as a public health emergency, with rising rates of depression, anxiety and stress- related disorders found across all age groups.

Common mental health issues comprise depression, that is persistent sadness, loss of interest, fatigue and lack of sleep that affect one’s daily life. Anxiety disorders emanating from excessive worry, panic attacks and other physical symptoms like rapid mood changes and violence depict mental health challenges. Some people struggle with mental health as a result of drug abuse and substance use. I have witnessed disheartening incidences of people struggling with mental health issues. At my workplace some student teachers have to postpone their studies in order to seek medication as a result of substance use. Even when they return to resume their studies, you can still see that they would be vulnerable and struggling. At one point we had a female student who was raped while on work integrated learning. Although the culprit was arrested and the girl received counseling and medical treatment, the traumatizing incident left an undetectable mark on her well-being.

There is also the sad case of a colleague’s son who committed suicide after completing his Advanced Level. Unknown to his parents, he had been struggling with drug and substance abuse. The heart wrecking incident of a fellow congregant who returned home from church to find his son who had been struggling with drug addiction), having set fire to the entire homestead, struck and murdered his pregnant wife with a matchet and then burnt the body. The mother had to flee for dear life together with her three grandchildren (children of the man who had killed his wife). Mental health issues are not merely an individual problem, they also affect families and the society at large.

They say prevention is better than cure. Healthy lifestyle approaches are necessary. It is therefore imperative to exercise self-care strategies such as mindfulness and meditation. This helps to reduce stress and increase self-awareness. Exercising boosts mood and it is essential for one to have adequate sleeping time. One also needs to have healthy eating habits and avoid loneliness by building and maintaining healthy relationships and community ties.

Early intervention is important. There is need to be one’s brother’s keeper. Recognizing symptoms of health challenges and seeking professional help early is important. Expanding affordable therapy, counseling and community-based support is very important. It is also important to reduce stigma through open conversations in order to normalize mental health struggles. I remember one of our students who had just returned from receiving therapy for drug addiction, coming to my office with a notebook saying, “Mam, I want to learn to write books like you do. Here is what I got from the library.” He read to me what appeared to be lacking coherence but I praised him so as to boost his confidence and then gave him the advice he needed. He left a contended young man and I felt that I had assisted him well without showing any stigmatization.

Mental health issues are therefore not just personal struggles, they are societal challenges that require collective action. By providing the awareness, accessibility and compassion, communities can foster resilience and ensure that mental health is treated with the same urgency and respect as physical health. Mental health is a prerequisite for everyone.

By Perpetua Gonese

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Poem By : Nonny Vee

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Between career and the calling
Who am I?
What suits?
What is ideal to follow?
Where do I refer to?
Confusing right? Yes, it should
It is about my lifetime choice
It is a career choice.
It should be tempting and scary to decide on.

Is it my calling or career choice?
Am I even worthy of it?
Should I be worrying about a choice between the two?
It should be a daunting exercise.
We are in the midst of growth, decisions and trials.
It is my lifetime choice.
It is a career choice.
It should be tempting and scary to decide on.

Thought it was just a career choice.
But I find myself stressing over it
I am connecting to every single step of it.
It is more of a calling than just a career.
I am confident with my choice.
Confusing right? Yes, it should
It is about my lifetime choice
It is a career choice.
It should be tempting and scary to decide on.

By: Nonny Vee

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In our fast-paced, digital-driven world, the line between what’s real and artificial grows thinner by the day. We’re bombarded with all the  information, yet the truth is elusive. How do we trust our senses when our eyes and minds compete with the persuasive power of technology? It’s a question that haunts us, as we go through a reality increasingly governed by screens and algorithms.

We wake up with our smartphones in our hands, their screens the first light of day. They are the last thing we see at night before we fall asleep, a glowing lifeline in a sea of digital noise. But what does this constant connection mean for our understanding of reality? Are we hypnotized, or simply addicted to the endless scroll? The distinction is blurred, much like the line between artificial and real.

In this tech-dominated age, it’s challenging to discern our own thoughts from those generated by machines. AI can mimic human creativity, leaving us questioning our worth and originality. If a machine can pen a poem or write an article, what does that say about our place in this new world? It’s a sad realization, one that demands introspection and a reevaluation of our values.

We find ourselves in a time where chaos and confusion are not mere accidents but symptoms of a deeper crisis. Our reliance on technology has distanced us from the tangible world, leading to a societal disconnection that’s as profound as it is unsettling. Have we lost sight of what makes us human, of our ability to discern, to feel, to connect?

But here’s the truth we keep missing… life isn’t infinite. That’s the thing that could save us, the reminder to put the phone down, to look up, to hold on to what’s real. Tech isn’t the enemy, but we can’t let it steal our humanity. So what’s next? Maybe it starts with a
single breath. A choice. A step back into our own lives.

From: Mutshidzi

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I grew up in a small, run-down house on the village outskirts of Thohoyandou, a town where hope often felt like a luxury we couldn’t afford. Money was always scarce. My mother, a single parent with no steady job, worked tirelessly, taking whatever odd jobs she could find, just to keep food on the table for our family of eight. No matter how hard she worked, it was never enough. The walls of our home felt like they were closing in on us, the weight of poverty pressing down every single day. But deep inside me, even as a child, there was a stubborn flame of hope. I refused to believe this was all life had for me.

School became my refuge. From the first grade, I clung to books like they were lifelines. Reading and journaling weren’t just hobbies, they were my escape, my way of dreaming beyond the four cracked walls of our house. At night, I’d lie on the thin traditional grass woven mats I shared with my siblings, staring up at the roof where the cracks stretched like spiderwebs, and whisper to myself, “I’m going to make it. I won’t stay here forever.” That dream wasn’t just a wish, it was a survival instinct. If I didn’t believe in something better, I wasn’t sure how I’d survive, if at all.

Years later, when I received that college scholarship, it felt like the universe had finally answered my prayers. I remember clutching that acceptance letter, my hands shaking, tears blurring my vision. A young Black woman from a family that barely scraped by, with no blueprint for success… I had done it. It was more than just an opportunity, it was a revolution. For the first time, I could taste freedom, from poverty, from the small-town limits, from the voices that whispered, “People like us don’t get to win.”

Graduating with my pharmacy degree was another milestone, another victory. I had chosen this path, because it promised stability, because I wanted to prove to myself and the world that I was capable of more than what my beginnings suggested. But reality hit hard. Every “entry-level” job demanded “experience” I didn’t have. The doors kept closing.

Now, in my late twenties, I’m still fighting. Some days, the exhaustion is so heavy I can barely move. The dream of building my mom a real home, of giving her the comfort she deserves, sometimes feels like it’s fading. And in my weakest moments, I wonder: Was I foolish to believe so much in myself? Does a comfortable life really exist?

But then, I remember.
I remember the little girl who read books by candlelight because the electricity was cut off. The little girl who walked miles to school under extreme weather conditions without shoes, determined to learn. The young woman who refused to let rejection letters define her. That fire inside me hasn’t died. It can’t die. Because this isn’t just my story, it’s the story of so many of us who keep pushing forward even when the world says “No”.

I won’t give up. I won’t lose hope. Not now. Not ever.

By: Mutshidzi

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She watches the scene unfold before her, feeling an itch that warns her of their impending arrival. She takes a strained, deep breath, using all her strength to hold back the tears.

Is this how it’s supposed to be?

How does she feel? Does he ever think of how she feels, even for a second? All these questions pile up in her head.

With every accusatory tone he uses, her heart aches. Each time he raises his voice, she winces. Does he know the power his words wield? She wonders. She tells herself that he is not all that bad.

No one is. She understands that people have moments of weakness when their emotions overwhelm them completely. In those moments, the words spoken by those who have lost control are often unintentional.

Yet, she has one question that she desperately needs an answer to: Does her understanding stop the pain, frustration, and growing rage?

By: Makanakaishe Gunda

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Instagram: m_aka_naka

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My name is Zinhle Ndyike, and I’m from the Vaal Triangle, specifically in Meyerton/Highbury-Henley on Klip. I want to take a moment to share my story in the hope that it reaches those who have ever felt overlooked, belittled, or underestimated. I understand how isolating those feelings can be, and I hope my experiences can offer some comfort and inspiration to others who might be facing similar challenges.

As a young girl, I never imagined that one day I would find myself in an LSEN school… an institution dedicated to children with special needs. I began my education in a mainstream school, but struggled in a class of 40 students. My grades slipped, and I found it difficult to concentrate. It was a challenging time, and I felt the weight of judgment from peers who did not understand my needs.

Eventually, I moved to Krugerlaan School, a special school that welcomed me with open arms. Initially, I faced criticism from children who came from mainstream schools, including some I had once sat alongside. However, I made the decision to let go of the negativity and allow God to guide me. In smaller classes of 10 to 15 students, my academic performance improved, and I began to thrive. I felt God’s presence in my life, even when I couldn’t see the full picture.

Over time, I earned six diplomas and certificates and served as a Representative Council of Learners (RCL) member for two years. I later pursued a four-year hairdressing course, earning a certificate that led to a career as a professional hairdresser. Despite being labeled by some as “abnormal” because of my learning special needs, I knew that God had a plan for me.

Today, I stand proudly as Miss Sedibeng’s First Princess, having won an International Award representing South Africa in the beauty queen category. My journey has taught me that criticism and judgment are tests meant to strengthen the warrior within us. To achieve greatness, we must rise above discouragement and surround ourselves with those who uplift and inspire us.

I have shared my experiences through an article about my life, hoping to encourage others who feel undermined. My aim is to be an example of hope and demonstrate that judgment does not define our worth… rather, it is the beginning of a new, empowering chapter in our lives.

My journey hasn’t been without challenges but because of all of my hardships, my story has become a testament to the power of perseverance and belief in oneself. Giving up whenever things get hard is not an option. Hold onto your dreams and focus on positivity. We all face all the challenges, but those challenges can build us into stronger individuals. If I could overcome my obstacles, you can too.

To anyone feeling lost or doubtful, remember that you don’t need validation from others. Seek your strength from within and from God, and you can become a future leader. Don’t let criticism deter you from greatness, let it fuel your growth towards successful testimonies.

You are a survivor, a warrior, a game changer. Together, let’s inspire and uplift those who are suffering from judgment and criticism just because they are different. Together we can become the change we want to see in the world.

By: Zinhle Ndyike

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I vividly recall the awe-inspiring wonder of my early years, when becoming an adult felt like the ultimate goal. I used to watch my parents, aunts, and uncles, convinced they had everything figured out, and I admired them with a mixture of reverence and envy. Life, however, had other ideas.

As I grew older, the harsh realities of maturity began to sink in. Not everything in the world was kind or gentle. Love could be fleeting, and people could be cruel. I slowly realized that adulthood wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

I’ve had my share of grief and betrayal. The memories linger like open wounds that refuse to heal. There were moments when I felt like I was drowning in hopelessness, unsure how to stay afloat. Times when the pain seemed unbearable, when giving up felt like the only escape.

Yet even in the midst of suffering, I’ve learned to recognize the beauty of happiness. It is fragile and fleeting, but when it comes, it makes every hardship worthwhile. I’ve experienced pure joy, laughter, and love so profound that the struggles fade in comparison.

Now, as I approach my twentieth birthday, I’m filled with conflicting emotions. I’m thrilled to reach this milestone, yet I know there are still challenges ahead. I’m excited to celebrate this new chapter, but I’m also aware of the difficulties waiting for me.

Adulthood is difficult. It’s a constant juggling act of responsibilities, emotions, and expectations. Some days, I barely hold on, crushed under the weight of the world. Other days, I feel unstoppable, as if nothing can stand in my way.

Still, despite the highs and lows, I wouldn’t trade my life for anything. I’ve learned to find strength in vulnerability, to hold on to hope in despair, and to treasure the beautiful moments.

Adulthood isn’t a destination. It’s a journey, and it’s okay to take it one step at a time. Looking ahead, I know there will be more twists and turns, triumphs and setbacks. But I’m ready. Ready to face whatever life brings, to learn from my mistakes, and to grow into the best version of myself. So adulthood, bring it on. I’m prepared for you.

By: Grace Banda

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I spent my entire school career in a boarding school, where I was expected to look after myself from the tender age of 8, in Grade 2, until I graduated in Grade 12. I remember when I started boarding school during the second term of Grade 2 in the middle of winter, my shoes were stolen from my locker. When I told my mom, who was a domestic worker, that my shoes were stolen, she told me that she didn’t have the money to buy me another pair of shoes, so I had to attend school barefoot for the whole term. Then there was a time when my feet were cracked from walking barefoot and eventually bled, but I didn’t feel anything; only the other kids could see blood flowing from my feet, and they were the ones who showed me.

I never knew a mother’s love/attention since I started boarding school. l had to spend my holidays with a guardian, and I could feel a sense of not belonging there. If there is work to be done at home, no one else could do it besides me, starting from cooking, cleaning, laundry, and milking goats. I did not spend my holidays resting; I worked hard so that I could get a bar of soap and lotion for boarding school.

I had to do laundry for other girls in order for me to use their soap water to wash my own clothes, and iron their clothes so that I could iron mine because I did not have the privilege of getting full toiletries termly. I got old clothes from family members, especially from girls of family members where my mother was working. I never knew wearing store-bought underwear; only from the leftover fabric that my guardian was not using, she sewed some underwear or two.

Imagine a teenager who gets her period every month. Not having any sanitary towels to use, I had to use the mattress I was sleeping on. Every month, I would cut 3 or 4 pieces from the mattress, cover them with part of a t-shirt I cut up, and use that as a sanitary towel. It didn’t help much, but it was better than nothing. When the bleeding was too heavy, I had to skip school for the day.

Coming home for the holidays, you will face a constant reminder that it’s not your home. Since I was the only one doing all the domestic work, after I mopped the floor and the other kids came from playing and they wanted to use the bathroom, and I told them that the floor was wet, I was constantly told that I should let them enter their house, I should remember that it is not our house… this reminder lives with me until today.

Whenever you want to do something or you have an idea and you are looking for validation or support from your guardian, there was always a negative comment and eventually a big NO! That caused me to start feeling that I am not good enough, or anything l do is not good enough, or I cannot be better than someone else.

I am fighting daily to be better and to know that I am good enough, but this childhood trauma is stuck with me, that it causes me to procrastinate or delay very important things I have to do in order to make my life better and that of my daughter. I know I am stronger than my past. And every day, I choose to fight for a better life-not just for me, but for my daughter. I may still carry the scars, but they remind me how far I have come. I am learning, step by step, to believe in myself. No one can take away my power. No one can erase the fact that I survived.

And now, I am trying to build something new… a life where my daughter will never know the pain I knew. She will grow up loved, supported, and sure of her worth. The little girl who walked barefoot, who sewed her own underwear, who made do with nothing, she is still inside me. But she is not broken. She is a warrior. And warriors keep rising. My story isn’t over yet. The best chapters are still ahead.

Written By: Jasana Uandia

Instagram: Jasana Ijemue Uandia

Facebook: Jasana Ijemue Uandia

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