Behind the filters and hashtags, many young people are quietly breaking. Try scroll through Instagram and you’ll see perfect vacations, flawless skin, and big smiles.

What you won’t see is the crippling anxiety before bed, or the emptiness behind those Tiktok dances. We live in a time where depression has learned to wear designer clothes.

Let’s start with schools and campuses, the pressure to “make it” is relentless. Parents expect good grades, lecturers demand assignments, and the economy is also asking its way on the list. It’s like running a marathon with bricks tied to your legs and still being told to smile for the camera.

Social media on the other hand only adds more fire. Everyone else seems to be succeeding faster, looking prettier, or living better.

You could be eating ugali and sukuma for dinner while scrolling through someone’s steak and wine story, and suddenly, life feels like a punishment. That constant comparison feeds a deep sense of failure.

For many, the escape route becomes substances. Cheap liquor, bhang, even prescription pills, anything to numb the noise you know. But the relief is temporary, and the hangover is unforgiving.

Stigma makes it worse. When a young person confesses, “I’m struggling,” the common response is: “Wewe ni mwanaume ama mtoto?” .This dismissive culture forces young people to stay silent, pretending they’re okay until the silence consumes them.

The result? Suicide rates rising, friendships strained, and a generation drowning in unspoken battles.

Mental health isn’t just about hospitals and pills : it’s about the daily fight to get out of bed, to keep going when the world doesn’t seem to notice you’re crumbling. That’s the silent pandemic, very invisible, but everywhere.