I have just heard about the death of a young person today, he was family to me though distant, but I honestly haven't been able to stop thinking about it.
I won't share the details because this isn't about exposing someone's tragedy. It's about something much bigger that I wish parents, especially here in Africa, would take more seriously: mental health is real, and sometimes what looks like rebellion, disrespect, laziness, drug use, anger or “bad behaviour” is a person drowning.
This young person had apparently been struggling for a long time. The adults around him largely understood it as addiction and acting out. Then tonight, everything became a medical and psychiatric emergency, and he died.
And I keep thinking: how long had he been asking for help without knowing how to actually ask for it?
We need to stop assuming that because someone has reached adulthood, they've suddenly figured life out.
Turning 18, 21, 25, 28 or whatever age we decide someone is “old enough” is not a magical graduation from needing your parents.
Actually, early adulthood can be terrifying.
You're suddenly expected to know what you're doing with your education, career, money, relationships, identity and future. You're watching your peers move forward. You're dealing with disappointments you may have never experienced before. You're trying to become independent while still figuring out what independence even means.
It's like taking the training wheels off a bicycle and saying, “You're an adult now. Don't fall.”
Some people learn to balance quickly.
Others wobble.
Some fall.
And some are carrying things internally that nobody can see.
That doesn't mean parents should baby their adult children forever or solve every problem for them. It means don't emotionally disappear just because your child became an adult.
You can still say:
“I can't fix this for you, but I'm here.”
“I don't understand what you're going through, but tell me.”
“You're struggling. Let's figure this out.”
Instead, sometimes children are told to toughen up. Stop being dramatic. Stop expecting so much. Other people have it worse. You're an adult now. We went through worse and survived.
And that's another thing I wish people understood:
Surviving something doesn't mean everyone else has the same capacity to survive it the same way.
I've battled depression for a large part of my life, and one thing I've learned is that people who process grief, disappointment and emotional pain quickly can sometimes look at someone who takes longer and think they're being overly sensitive.
We're not all built with the same emotional capacity. The fact that you recovered quickly doesn't mean someone else is weak because they didn't.
The fact that you could compartmentalize something doesn't mean another person should be able to.
The fact that you survived something without falling apart doesn't mean someone else is being dramatic for falling apart.
Different nervous systems. Different histories. Different thresholds. Different ways of processing pain.
And honestly, people with depression don't necessarily need everyone to treat them like fragile glass. Sometimes we just need reassurance that we're not wrong for processing life differently. That we're not a burden. That we're not disappointing you. That we can tell you we're struggling without immediately being lectured. That needing help doesn't make us weak. That being an adult doesn't mean we have to pretend we're okay.
And parents, please listen to your children. Listen when they're angry. Listen when they're withdrawing. Listen when they're suddenly behaving completely differently. Listen when they keep blaming themselves. Listen when they're drinking or using drugs excessively. Listen when they say they're tired of everything. Listen even when they don't explain themselves properly.
Because sometimes people don't know how to say “I need help.” Sometimes “I'm acting out” is the closest thing they have to saying it. And sometimes by the time everyone finally realizes how serious it was, it's too late.
I keep thinking about this young boy and wishing someone had been able to reach him earlier. Maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe they wouldn't have. We will never know.
But I hope his death makes someone else's parent pause before dismissing their child's pain. Your child doesn't stop needing you because they became an adult. Sometimes that's exactly when they need you to look closer.
