We Need to Talk About Mental Health In African Communities
If you have read any of my articles, you will know that I identify very strongly and whole-heartedly as African. My African upbringing has shaped how I view the world, and how I understand various aspects of my wellbeing. Some of the things that I learned as a child, I have to unlearn as an adult. One of those things is my conceptualization of mental health. Since beginning my graduate program in counseling psychology, I have learned so much about what mental health actually constitutes, and have become passionate about debunking some of the myths and misconceptions about this topic, especially within the African community. In light of this year’s shitty trajectory, I have found it even more crucial to pick up this issue with my African folks, so here I am, laboring over an article on why we need to maintain the conversations that have started about mental health in African communities.
Mental health is a crucial aspect of total health and wellbeing. unfortunately, it is not regarded as such in many African communities. For some, mental health is a “White people problem”, for others it is a spiritual possession, and still for many, it is considered as a reflection of personal failure and mental weakness. I remember growing up and thinking that only White people got depressed or experienced anxiety. There were several moments where I witnessed folks exhibit classic symptoms of what I now know as depression, but because we never talked about mental health, we never addressed their symptoms.
Mental health is the encompassment of our psychological and emotional wellbeing, and is closely tied to our physical wellness. From my work as a mental health practitioner, I know that depression can be caused by imbalances in certain neurotransmitters in the brain. As a human being, I also know that being diagnosed with cancer or experiencing a breakup can lead to depression. After we accept mental health as an essential aspect of all lives, then we may begin the honest and raw examination of the harmful consequences of our communities’ denial of mental health as a component of total health.
In several African communities, the concept of mental health as being integral to overall wellbeing has been replaced by other things. As an African (Ghanaian to be specific) I have deep respect for cultural values and beliefs. In no way will I condemn something because it does not fit the Western standards of knowing and understanding. However, I have also come to learn how to simultaneously respect culture and call out bullshit. Mental health is one area where I get to practice this skill. In my home country of Ghana, there are many people who believe that mental illnesses are physical manifestations of curses. There are others who believe that people experience mental illness because they don’t have enough faith in God. There are still others who believe that mental illnesses are punishments from God and gods for breaking rules. I understand that our understanding of the world is shaped by our cultural lens, but I also believe that it is PERFECTLY OKAY to examine that cultural lens and notice where that lens is foggy. Once we find that foggy spot, it is perfectly acceptable to grab a lens cleaner and clear up that mess…real quick!
It may be easier for our African communities to talk about mental health if the benefits are more evident. I think the most obvious benefit of openly discussing mental health issues is the safe space created for others to admit their mental health struggles. When we begin to talk about our mental health challenges, it normalizes these experiences and makes it okay for other people to share their experiences with us. It’s a small step, and really doesn’t take much, but I think it’ll be a wonderful step in the right direction to incorporating mental health into our health vocabulary as Africans. Naturally, a side effect of normalizing mental disorders is that those living with disorders will face less discrimination and stigma.
Because we still see mental illnesses as a sign of personal failure and weakness, it becomes so easy and convenient to blame people for experiencing mental health challenges. When we start openly discuss mental health concerns, we can slowly begin to chip away at the myths and misconceptions about mental health and those living with mental disorders. I also sincerely believe that once we have de-stigmatized mental disorders, we would be more willing as a collective to fund mental health initiatives and resources. Wouldn’t it be wonderful, as members of African communities, if we could easily access affordable therapy or psychiatrist services without shame and guilt? Wouldn’t it be even lovelier if our governments would casually include mental health funding into national budgets the same way they include travel and car maintenance bonuses?!
I guess all I’m trying to say is, we don’t really have much to lose as Africans in engaging in these mental health conversations. For what’s worth, so many of us are struggling in silence, and it’ll only start to get better when we’re given a supportive and non-judgmental space to talk about our mental health.
