In 2008, Michael Phelps, an American swimmer, did what looked impossible. Eight Olympic gold medals in eight days. For a moment, he seemed less like an athlete and more like proof that human beings occasionally bend the laws of physics.
The world saw a winner operating at the absolute peak of human performance. What it did not see was that he was struggling deeply. In 2016, the most decorated Olympian in history (28 Olympic medals) revealed that he had battled depression and suicidal thoughts. Looking back, he said, “Talking about mental health saved my life.”
Silence almost drowned him. This applies to the 40% of men globally who refuse to speak up. Perhaps it is time we examined the things many men are still carrying in silence.
The Written Culture
Once a man is born, there’s always a set expectation. They show up in “man up” comments from uncles, “boys don’t cry” jokes in school, and the things society praises or mocks. The message is usually the same: be strong, handle it, provide, don’t complain.
In Nigeria, this script runs particularly deep. Young men are expected to have direction in systems that offer very little certainty, provide in an economy that exhausts them, and remain a strong Iroko tree through the storm.
They carry the pressure to succeed, the fear of falling short, and financial worries, often without speaking about them. Is this a healthy way to live? No, but we’ve been doing it for so long.
What Silence Costs
Globally, women attempt suicide more often than men. Yet 80% of suicides are men. Researchers call this the gender paradox of suicide.
Part of the reason is that men are often less likely to talk about what they are going through and seek professional support.
Silence is often mistaken for strength. In reality, it can become a risk factor.
Phelps’ story matters because it strips away a common excuse. Here was a man performing extraordinary feats in front of billions while privately falling apart. His struggle was fuelled by the belief that vulnerability would make him weak. Many men still believe the same thing.
The Disguise Of A Struggling Man
One reason many men go unnoticed is because distress rarely appears the way people expect it to. People imagine sadness, tears, or someone visibly falling apart.
Reality is less dramatic.
Research suggests that depression in men may present as irritability, anger, emotional withdrawal, or restlessness. The struggling man could even be the loudest in the room.
How Help Actually Starts
Help-seeking has a branding problem. For many men, the phrase immediately brings to mind therapy sessions, uncomfortable conversations, or public displays of vulnerability. It’s much simpler before all that.
Help begins with recognising when something feels wrong and resisting the urge to dismiss it. It can look like talking to a friend, speaking with a mentor, reaching out to a counsellor, or simply admitting that you are not coping as well as you would like people to believe.
Faith is important to many Nigerians, so it is worth saying this clearly. Seeking help does not represent a failure of faith any more than visiting a hospital represents a failure of belief in healing.
“We can’t do it alone. That’s a fact. I tried to do things by myself.” — Michael Phelps
The Healthy Man
For all the emphasis society places on resilience, we spend very little time teaching men what to do when resilience becomes exhausting. We celebrate men who carry burdens. We rarely create spaces where they can put those burdens down for a moment.
More men need spaces where emotional expression is not treated as weakness. More men need friendships that can hold conversations deeper than football, work, and the economy. More men need to know that seeking help is not something reserved for moments of crisis.
The things men carry are real. Speaking up about them should be just as normal.
So I’ll ask you directly: What’s one thing you’re carrying right now that needs to be put down?
You don’t have to answer here, but name it to yourself. That’s where healing starts.
By Mosimiloluwa