I once heard the story of a young boy who, upon seeing a butterfly struggle to break free from its cocoon, decided to help by gently peeling away the cocoon.
The boy thought he was being kind. But what he did not know was that a butterfly’s wings are strengthened through the very act of struggling to emerge. By helping it, he robbed the butterfly of its strength and independence. It never flew. What looked like help was, in fact, permanent disempowerment.That story speaks to the power of struggle.
There are times in life when hardship is a necessary process for growth, for transformation, for the development of character.
But there is another side to the story that often goes untold and that is the importance of asking for help when it matters most. It is essential to learn to discern between the struggles that are meant to shape us and those that are slowly killing us in silence.
The other day, I watched my young son struggle with two tightly interlocked plastic containers. He twisted, pulled, pushed – never asking me for any assistance.
I waited and observed with much curiosity. When I finally stepped in and helped him by pulling from the opposite end, the containers immediately came apart. What had seemed impossible became instantly doable with just a little help.
This everyday moment reminded me of a much bigger reality: People—young and old—are quietly suffering through life’s ‘containers,’ locked in battles they cannot win alone, refusing to reach out for assistance and eventually collapsing under the pressure and weight of their battles. Why? Because of pride, fear, ego, or the mistaken belief that asking for help is a sign of weakness.
In Eswatini, this silent suffering is everywhere. It is in our homes, in our churches, our classrooms and our workplaces.
People are drowning—financially, emotionally, spiritually—yet pretending to be fine. There are men who have lost their livelihoods because they did not want to ask a friend or mentor for advice. Women staying in abusive homes because they are ashamed to say, ‘I need help.’
Students who fail courses because they are afraid to speak up when they do not understand. Farmers losing crops because they did not ask for technical support. Young people resorting to theft or suicide because they see no other way out. All of this, because they did not or could not say four simple words: ‘Please help me out.’
Is It a Shame to Ask for Help?
Why is it that in a society with such deep-rooted values of community and solidarity, asking for help has become taboo? Is it shameful to admit that you do not know something? Is it shameful to say, ‘I’m not coping’? Is it shameful to acknowledge that you have made a mistake?
In many ways, Eswatini is still a deeply conservative society. We value strength, resilience and self-sufficiency.
These are not bad qualities—in fact, they are often necessary for survival. But we have taken this stoicism too far.
We teach boys that ‘real men’ don’t cry, don’t complain, don’t ask. We teach girls to endure silently, to hold their families together no matter the personal cost.
We wear struggle like a badge of honour, and vulnerability like a stain. It is okay to be vulnerable. Vulnerability should not be a sign of humiliation—but a window of opportunity to help or to be assisted.
But strength is not the absence of weakness—it is the courage to confront it. And humility is not humiliation.
It is wisdom. It is emotional intelligence. And it is absolutely necessary if we are to survive and thrive together.
The High Cost of Silence
There is an unspoken epidemic in Eswatini: the epidemic of silent suffering.
The price we are paying for our collective inability to ask for help is staggering.
Economically, entrepreneurs lose investments because they do not consult accountants or legal advisors.
Youth waste years on failed ventures because they are too proud or sometimes too naive to take mentorship.
People stay unemployed because they do not want to seem desperate by asking for job referrals. And let us not even speak of those who suffer from mental health issues without ever seeking professional support.
Socially, relationships break down because spouses refuse to communicate their needs.
Teenagers turn to drugs and reckless behaviour because they feel unseen and unheard.
People resort to crime, not because they are inherently criminal, but because they see no lawful options.A lot of people are drowning in self pity—not because they are worthless—but because they feel invisible even though they are surrounded by people they trust. Nobody sees them. Nobody cares.
Nobody wants to listen, to understand. Emotionally, the consequences are even more harrowing.
According to mental health professionals in the country, suicide rates especially among young men—are rising. This is not merely a statistic.
These are real lives lost because they could not find a safe place to ask for help. Whether due to stigma, isolation, or emotional illiteracy, they believed they had no choice. And still, I ask: Is it a shame to ask for help?
Changing the Narrative
We must urgently change the narrative around asking for help. It is not a sign of failure. It is a survival strategy.
A community without connection is a community in decline.
If our homes, churches, schools and leadership structures do not encourage openness, we are raising a generation of isolated individuals who are physically surrounded, but emotionally abandoned.
I am confident that we can overcome this challenge. It can begin with the use of compassionate language.
We need to normalise conversations like ‘I don’t understand this—can you show me?’ We can say, ‘I’m not doing well mentally—can we talk?’ Be honest and say ‘I don’t have enough food this month can I get support?’ Speak to a wise and mature person and say ‘I don’t know how to run a business can you mentor me?’
These statements require courage, yes. But they also open doors, to healing, to partnerships, to second chances. To relief and to breakthroughs. We cannot wait until someone is homeless or suicidal or bankrupt to offer a listening ear.
This cultural shift also means training leaders teachers, parents, pastors, chiefs—to be approachable. It means investing in public mental health services, support groups, hotlines, countywide mentorship programmes. We need systems that make asking for help feel normal, dignified, and effective.
Humility and Help: A Powerful Combination
To ask for help, one must let go of pride. This is not always easy. Our egos often convince us that we must ‘do it alone’ to be respected. But the truth is, no one builds anything worthwhile alone.
Every success story is littered with moments of assistance, guidance and rescue. Asking for help requires humility.
But that humility does not weaken us it elevates us. It saves time, energy and lives.
It protects our dignity, our relationships, our futures.
Imagine how many businesses could have been saved, how many relationships healed, how many lives preserved—if only someone had reached out. If only someone had spoken up. If only someone had said, ‘Please help me.’
A National Conversation
In Eswatini, we pride ourselves on Buntfu the belief that ‘I am because we are.’ But Buntfu means little if we are unwilling to share each other’s burdens.
We must teach our children that it is okay to ask. We must teach our elders that vulnerability is not a weakness.
We must remind ourselves that silence is not strength when it leads to suffering.
The time has come for a national conversation about support, empathy, mental and emotional health. It is time we treat help-seeking as an act of courage, not an act of shame.
Final Thought
We all have our cocoons. Sometimes we need to break out of them on our own, wings strengthened by the struggle. But there are also times when the cocoon is too thick, the darkness too heavy, the silence too loud, the burden too much on our shoulders. In those moments, asking for help is not defeat—it is wisdom. Help is strategy. Help is strength. Help is human. Help will save lives, families businesses and our future leaders.If you ever find yourself stuck, overwhelmed, unsure before you give up, before you explode, before you disappear—remember this: someone is willing to pull from the other side. All you have to do is ask.
