There was a time I thought strength meant silence. I grew up seeing men hold their pain behind unshaken faces, pretending everything was fine while their hearts were breaking quietly. “Be strong,” they said, but no one explained what that really meant. It took me a while to realize that the strongest men aren’t the ones who hide their emotions — they’re the ones who confront them.

I think about a man I admire — my uncle. After losing his job and facing depression, he didn’t shut the world out. Instead, he began to speak openly about his struggles, especially with us young men in the family. He would say, “Real men don’t carry storms alone; they walk through them together.” Watching him rebuild his life taught me that vulnerability doesn’t weaken you — it frees you.

These days, I try to carry that lesson with me. I check in on my friends, especially the ones who act “fine.” Sometimes, a simple “How are you, really?” can open a door that’s been locked for years. I remind them that caring for your mental health is not a sign of weakness — it’s a step toward being the man you were meant to be.

To me, real strength is showing up — for yourself and for others. It’s listening without judgment, asking for help when you need it, and refusing to let silence bury your pain. Because silence builds walls, but action builds people. And in this journey of healing and brotherhood, that’s the kind of man I want to be — the one they can look up to, not for being perfect, but for being real.

- Mosimanegape Leeuw