This International Men’s Mental Health Week, explore how men in the diaspora are silently battling stress, isolation, and toxic masculinity — and how they’re beginning to heal.
The Mask He Wore to Work – Men’s Mental Health Week
“I thought I was dying. Heart racing, chest tight. Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. But I still showed up at work — shirt ironed, smile fixed, deadlines met.”
That’s how he began.
He didn’t want his name used. “Call me K.” he said. Thirty-seven. Lived in Toronto. Born in Abuja. Been in Canada eight years. Works in IT. Married with one child. By every measure, he was doing well.
But underneath the stable income and framed degrees was a man who had not cried in 14 years.
Until one night in March.
His son was asleep. His wife had gently asked, “Are you okay?” And something in his body broke. He started sobbing. Deep, uncontrollable waves. He later said it felt like “the tears were older than him.”
K had never spoken to anyone about what it was like carrying the unspoken weight of being an African man abroad — the pressure to succeed, provide, protect, and perform, all while pretending he was okay.
But when he finally went to therapy — reluctantly at first — he realized it wasn’t weakness. It was survival.
Why African Men Abroad Suffer in Silence
During International Men’s Mental Health Week, much of the global conversation focuses on physical health. But mental health — especially for men — remains largely unspoken, especially within African communities.
Here’s what often gets buried beneath the surface of men’s mental health diaspora issues:
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Isolation: Many move abroad without extended family or a familiar community structure.
- Cultural displacement: Leaving home means leaving behind community, humor, food, even noise — things that anchor identity.
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Pressure to perform: Success isn’t just personal — it’s communal. You’re expected to send money home, make your family proud, and “make it.”
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Toxic masculinity: Emotional expression is often seen as weakness. “Real men don’t cry” becomes a silent killer.
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Lack of representation: Few mental health services are culturally sensitive to the immigrant experience or the expectations placed on African men.
- Therapy stigma: In many African cultures, therapy is still taboo, seen as a “Western indulgence” or weakness.
According to WHO, men are statistically less likely to seek therapy, yet more likely to die by suicide. That’s not a coincidence. It’s a cultural emergency.
The Invisible Burnout: What It Looks Like
African men wellness issues in the diaspora rarely look like breakdowns. Instead, they look like:
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Silent commutes in packed trains, holding back tears
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Panic attacks that get mistaken for heartburn
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Overworking, not out of ambition but anxiety
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Disconnection from partners, children, and self
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Overuse of alcohol or avoidance behavior like gaming or binge-watching TV
The damage is often invisible — until it isn’t.
How K Found His Way Back to Himself
For K, healing began with a podcast. It featured a Nigerian therapist in the UK talking about intergenerational trauma and how men carry the emotions their fathers weren’t allowed to express.
“That was the first time I heard my story told out loud,” he said.
He then started therapy. Quietly. Online. At night. He didn’t tell anyone at first. But over weeks, he started sleeping better. Started jogging. Started journaling.
Now, every Sunday morning, he writes a letter to himself — sometimes one word, sometimes pages.
He says:
“I didn’t become weak. I became aware.”
And that awareness is what he wants other men to find this International Men’s Health Week.
What We Can Do This International Men’s Health Week
1. Normalize Emotion
Tears are not betrayal. They are biology. Let’s stop mocking softness in boys and silence in men. This International Men’s Mental Health Week, start by asking a man in your life, “How’s your heart?”
2. Share Mental Health Resources for Men
Create a WhatsApp thread. Drop a podcast. Recommend a Black or African therapist. Use your platform, no matter how small, to speak life.
3. Redefine Strength
Men’s mental health diaspora healing means reframing power — not as suppression, but as expression. It’s okay to say, “I’m tired.” It’s okay to need help.
4. Build Safe Circles
Whether it’s a barber chair, a prayer group, or a Saturday walk, men need non-judgmental spaces where they can exhale. That’s where healing begins.
5. Encourage Preventive Care
Mental health is part of holistic health. Encourage therapy not just for crisis, but for maintenance — like gym for the mind.
Final Thoughts: Silence Isn’t Noble — Healing Is
The silence that African men carry abroad is not stoicism — it’s suffocation. This International Men’s Health Week, may we break the silence, rewrite the rules, and raise sons who know that vulnerability is a strength, not a sin.
“You can’t be well if you can’t be real.”
