Mame Fatou Diop: “Men are not doing badly because they are weak, but because they are exhausted from being strong” (4/4) April 11, 2026
They don’t always say they’re feeling bad. They say they are tired. Tired of being strong, of holding on, of never flinching. In Senegal, the mental suffering of men is often experienced in silence, masked by anger, alcohol or silence. Founder of “Wéruway Center”, a structure dedicated to non-medical mental health in Senegal, Mame Fatou Diop, graduate in political science and international relations, puts words to these invisible distresses and questions a society which demands virility without providing space for vulnerability.
Ms. Diop, how would you define mental health?
Mental health is not just the absence of psychological disorders. It is a state of inner balance that allows a person to think, feel, work, love and cope with life’s difficulties in a relatively harmonious manner. It encompasses emotional, psychological, relational and social well-being.
And what makes it different from mental illness?
As for mental illness, it refers to identified disorders, sometimes severe, which permanently alter the functioning of the person and require specific care. We can therefore not be affected by a mental illness and yet be very psychologically unwell. This nuance is essential, because many suffer without ever recognizing themselves as “sick”.
In a society where virility imposes silence and endurance, how do you explain that the mental suffering of men still remains largely invisible, despite the scale of the silent dramas that you observe on the ground?
Men’s mental suffering is made invisible because, from a very young age, they are taught that showing their emotions is a weakness. Crying, asking for help, saying “I can’t do it anymore” goes against the valued norms of virility: being strong, enduring, protective, provider.
Result: men internalize their pain, normalize it, keep it quiet… until it explodes or consumes them from the inside. This silence is not a lack of suffering, it is a suffering prohibited from expression.
At the Wéruway Center, do you notice that men arrive for consultation at a more advanced stage of distress than women?
Yes, very clearly. Men often consult late, when the compensation mechanisms no longer hold. They arrive exhausted, sometimes after a breakup, professional failure, loss of status or major conflict.
What specific signs betray this long-repressed masculine suffering?
Male suffering rarely manifests itself in words at first. It is betrayed by constant irritability, addictive behaviors, sleep problems, poorly contained anger, emotional withdrawal or a total loss of meaning. Behind these symptoms, we often find great loneliness and a deep shame of no longer feeling “good enough”.
During our survey, many men said they did not “want to die”, but simply “to stop being tired of being strong”. How do you interpret this word, and what does it reveal about the way Senegalese society treats male vulnerability?
This sentence is extremely revealing. She says that it is not life that is rejected, but the role imposed. Being strong all the time, without space to deposit your emotional fatigue, becomes an unbearable burden. This reveals a society that values male performance, but neglects the human behind the role. Male vulnerability is not welcomed, it is often mocked, minimized or seen as a danger to the social order. However, an emotionally exhausted man is not weak: he is human.
Unemployment, economic pressure and social failure constantly recur in the paths of male patients. Can we say that the mental health of men today reveals deeper social fractures?
Absolutely ! Men’s mental health acts as a brutal indicator of inequalities and social tensions. When a man’s value is essentially measured by his ability to provide for his loved ones, insecurity becomes a direct attack on his identity. Psychological discomfort is then not only individual, it is the symptom of a system which puts enormous pressure on men without offering them an emotional or social safety net.
Male psychological distress is often expressed through alcohol, anger, silence or violence rather than through words. How can we adapt care systems to these diverted forms of suffering?
We must first change our outlook, these behaviors are not just problems to be corrected, they are often languages of suffering. The systems must be more accessible, less stigmatizing, and sometimes less verbal at the start. Going through secure speaking spaces, community approaches, sport, art or consultations that respect human rhythm is essential. We must go towards them and not wait for them to walk through the door of care alone.
If you had a message to send directly to men who suffer in silence and still hesitate to seek help, what would you say to them to break down this cultural barrier that keeps them alone in the face of their discomfort?
I would tell them that asking for help does not take away your dignity, on the contrary. Talking about what hurts doesn’t make you less of a man, it makes you more alive. You have the right to be tired, the right to doubt, the right not to carry the weight of the world alone. Being supported does not mean giving up the fight, it means choosing to survive in other ways than in silence. Mental health is priceless, by preserving yours, you also preserve that of those around you: your partner, your children, etc.
By Adama NDIAYE
Read also: Mr. Dramé, father: The man who never complains (3/4)
