Sweet Pain, Dead Peace

My Cousin Job Passed on.

Let me rephrase that; My Cousin Job took his life.. - wait, he couldn't have taken his life, he always had it.

Let me rephrase that too; MY COUSIN COMMITTED SUICIDE.

By Hanging.

The Pain...

It is exactly 12 days today 12 June 2018 since my cousin hanged himself.
It is exactly 12 days since he did what I couldn't do - Get through with it.
See I have attempted suicide before, not once, not twice and it's not a pretty thing to live with. Even rape is prettier.

Rewind. I write this because of pain. And am from a sitting with some two friends of mine and I told them that my cousin committed suicide and they said "you know someone who has attempted suicide before gets through with it at some point" - I swallowed hard, felt a sharp pain in my chest...

Who is this cousin I speak of?
Job was the last born of my maternal aunt, and at age 22 it got to him.

I am in pain, pain from different sides. I am in pain of loss, for having lost a close relative, grief is in my heart.

I am in pain because I know just how confusing getting to that point of suicide is. No, it is not about hopelessness, it is not about helplessness, it's not about stress, no, it is a mix of every little negative feeling/thought. It is a cocktail of a mental evil, a transformation of a mind that just sucks away breadth with each inhallation.

Someone asked me what triggered me to attempt suicide, honestly I have no idea, there was no switch to it, no, there was a journey, a journey through a land so painful and so lonely. And see, I am Valentine Nyakiere, let me put it this way, I am The Valentine Nyakiere, decsribed sweetly through words such as beautiful, curvacious, smiley, hardworking, fun loving, great mum et al. I myself did not know that Valentine at the time of the attempts, what I knew was some female who sailed through life hanging on to the last part of a sinking boat.

That pain is impossible to express, because when I learnt that my cousin had burnt all his belongings leaving nothing to trace his existence, I felt him. He wanted to get rid of anything that would give him a reason to stay. I can still see him tie the rope on his room ceiling, I can see him haste to ensure it holds enough not to fail. I can see him put his head through, release his hands and drop his legs to his last episode of pain. The feeling of pain as his body weight puts pressure on the rope, I know just that feeling of wanting to get through just that last pain so as to get to peace.

His last kick, his heart giving up, his last thought of peace amidst the pain. I see it. I imagine a part of him wanted to abort it at the first instant of pain, then realising that there is no going back and saying bye to maybe one person he always loved. Then leaving us. The pain of that edge is fresh in my eyes, and it will take time for me to push these images from my mind.

Then the pain in my aunt for losing a child. As a mother I can relate to this. The mixture of thoughts of wanting to cry over the loss vs the guilt of feeling as though she would have done more and thus feeling not worth of tears. This for my aunt will need more than just a sorry and comforting.


That said, I could write a book on this; My cousin is gone and the only difference between my cousin and the rest of us who have mental illness is just TIME. Nothing else. We are not immune, we can be overtaken as he anyday any time.

In that regard, I will intensify my work in MENTAL HEALTH AWARENESS.

I shall not stay silent, I shall speak till the stigma stops. I shall speak till Mental Illness is treated with the seriousness given to Cancer HIV, Malaria and other diseases.

I shall not again let anyone or any family suffer in silence due to Mental Illness.

It is an invisible illness, it still is an illness like any other.

It is not something that we can just snap out of! Can anyone snap out of Malaria?

We do not wish it on ourselves, how do you like that flu?

"But she is so pretty", "But he is so rich" - Mental illness knows no lifestyle, knows no boundaries.

This I will do in honor of all the fallen souls taken by Suicide, and in Love to the living souls spared yet.




Comments and responses to be addressed to;

ameerahbul@gmail.com