A young person’s story
“I Started Believing My Life Had No Future”
“My name is David. There was a time when I woke up every morning already tired of thinking about tomorrow. I watched other young people move forward while I felt stuck, with no job, little hope, and the constant pressure of wanting to help my family but not knowing how. I stopped telling people how I felt because I was ashamed. When friends asked me if I was okay, I smiled and said, ‘Yes.’ But when I was alone, the smile disappeared. Some nights, I lay awake wondering whether my life would ever change and whether I would ever become the person I had dreamed of becoming.
The hardest part was feeling that nobody could see what was happening inside me. I was surrounded by people, yet I felt completely alone. I became quieter, stopped enjoying the things I once loved, and began losing confidence in myself. I thought I had to carry everything because I was a young man and people expected me to be strong. Then I attended a mental health activity organized by Afyakili NGO. For the first time, someone spoke about the pain I had been hiding fear, stress, hopelessness, and loneliness. I remember thinking, ‘They are talking about me.’ When I finally said, ‘I am not okay,’ nobody laughed at me. Nobody judged me. Someone simply listened.
Afyakili did not make all my problems disappear, but they helped me believe that my life was not over. I started speaking again. I started making small plans for my future. I started believing that asking for help did not make me weak. Today, when I see another young person smiling while their eyes look tired, I wonder if they are carrying the same pain I once carried. There are many young people in DRC who are quietly losing hope. I was fortunate that someone reached me. My prayer is that Afyakili can reach them too, before they begin to believe that nobody cares.”
A pupil’s story
“Everyone Thought I Was a Bad Child”
“My name is Grace. At school, I was known as the child who was always angry. I shouted at other pupils, cried easily, and sometimes fought when someone said something that hurt me. Teachers corrected me, classmates avoided me, and I often heard people say that I was difficult. After hearing it again and again, I started believing it myself. I thought maybe I really was a bad child. What nobody knew was that I often arrived at school carrying fear and sadness from things I did not know how to explain. I had pain inside me, but I did not have words for it, so the pain came out as anger.
I remember sitting alone after being punished and trying not to cry because I did not want the other children to laugh at me. I wanted someone to ask why I was always angry, not only tell me to stop. I wanted someone to understand that sometimes I was not trying to cause trouble, I simply did not know what to do with everything I was feeling. Then Afyakili NGO came to our school and taught us about emotions. They explained sadness, fear, anger, worry, and frustration. For the first time in my life, I realized that what I was feeling had names. I learned to pause, breathe, speak, and ask for help instead of fighting.
That day changed the way I saw myself. I stopped thinking, ‘I am a bad child,’ and started thinking, ‘I am a child who is hurting and needs support.’ Today, I can sometimes say, ‘I am angry because this hurt me,’ instead of shouting or fighting. I wish every child could learn this. There are children sitting in classrooms right now who are being called stubborn, rude, or difficult, when inside they may simply be frightened, sad, or overwhelmed. Please do not let those children grow up believing that they are the problem. Sometimes a child does not need another punishment. Sometimes a child needs someone to finally understand the pain behind the behavior.”
A mother’s story
“Everyone Asked About My Baby. Nobody Asked About Me.”
“My name is Chantal. When I gave birth, everyone celebrated. People came to my home smiling, carrying gifts, and asking to hold the baby. They asked if the baby was eating well, sleeping well, and growing well. I smiled with them because I thought that was what a new mother was supposed to do. But after everyone left and the house became quiet, I often cried. I felt exhausted, frightened, and empty. Sometimes I looked at my baby and felt terrible guilt because I loved my child, yet I could not understand why I felt so sad. I kept asking myself, ‘What kind of mother feels this way?’
I was afraid to tell anyone. I thought they would say I was ungrateful or that I did not love my baby. So I hid my feelings and tried to continue as if everything was normal. Some nights, I could not rest even when my baby was asleep. My mind would not stop worrying. During the day, I cared for my baby while feeling like I was slowly disappearing. People could see the mother holding the child, but they could not see the woman who was struggling inside. Then I met Afyakili NGO. Someone asked me a question that felt almost unfamiliar: ‘How are YOU doing?’ I cried because I realized how long it had been since anyone had asked about me.
Afyakili helped me understand that women can experience serious emotional difficulties after childbirth and that needing help does not make someone a bad mother. They listened to me without shame or judgment and encouraged me to speak and seek support. Slowly, I began to understand that caring for myself was also part of caring for my child. Today, when I meet a new mother, I do not only ask about the baby. I ask about her. Because I know how painful it is to feel invisible while everyone around you is celebrating. There are mothers in DRC smiling in front of their families while crying alone behind closed doors. Please help Afyakili reach them and remind them: ‘You matter too.’”
Become a partner of AfyaKili
Stand with us as we bring mental health support closer to communities across the Democratic Republic of Congo.
- Help us reach the person who is suffering silently.
- Help us reach the child whose behavior is hiding pain.
- Help us reach the young person who feels forgotten.
- Help us reach the mother who believes she has to carry everything alone.
Help us replace shame with understanding. Silence with conversation. Isolation with connection. Despair with hope.
Do not simply read their stories. Help us change what happens next. Partner with AfyaKili. Support mental health. Restore hope. Help someone feel seen, heard, and valued again.
Because sometimes saving hope begins with one person choosing not to look away.
Become a donor
