by Massimo Gabbani – ItalianoIn Tabaka, in the heart of Kisii County, a silent crisis is unfolding—one that is increasingly affecting the youngest members of the community. Cases begin at shockingly early ages, from as young as 11, extending through adolescence into young adulthood (20–25 years), and in some cases beyond. Yet it is among the youngest that the phenomenon is most alarming.At Tabaka Mission Hospital, a key healthcare provider serving approximately 700,000 people across Migori, Homabay, Narok, Nyamira, Kisii, and even northern Tanzania, the situation is becoming increasingly critical. According to data collected by Padre Frederick Mucabana, an average of three cases per week—between suicides and suicide attempts—are recorded.This reflects a deep and layered crisis, in which poverty plays a central role. It is not only a lack of financial resources, but a broader condition of deprivation: limited access to education, inability to afford school, food insecurity, and a general absence of opportunities. In such a context, even small setbacks can feel overwhelming. Failing at school or not meeting expectations can generate a profound sense of shame.These challenges are compounded by fragile family environments, often marked by separation, abandonment, and domestic or gender-based violence. Many young people grow up without stable support systems or emotional guidance.Alongside these structural issues, another factor is becoming increasingly significant: the spread of social media. Even in rural areas, smartphone access is widespread. Social media offers a window into lifestyles that appear unattainable, creating constant and often harsh comparisons. It fuels expectations and aspirations that are nearly impossible to achieve in such contexts, deepening frustration, inadequacy, and isolation.The growing use of alcohol and drugs among young people further increases vulnerability, often as a means of escaping a reality perceived as unbearable.The result is a deep and pervasive loneliness. A condition that precedes and fuels the act itself. Many young people, lacking support and perspective, come to see suicide as the only possible escape.Cultural factors further complicate the situation. In some communities, suicide remains heavily stigmatized. Those who take their own lives are often buried away from their homes, on the margins of the village. In cultures where burial near the family is the norm, this represents a final and powerful form of exclusion. Burials may take place at night, sometimes without names or markers.Alone in life, and alone in death.In response, Tabaka Mission Hospital, together with the Camillian fathers, is working to build a structured and community-based response.A key element is raising awareness within the local community, encouraging families, schools, and community leaders to actively participate in supporting vulnerable youth.At the same time, the hospital aims to strengthen counseling services, increasing both their presence and impact. The goal is to provide continuous support to vulnerable youth, those who have attempted suicide, and those living in highly complex family situations—while also supporting their families with psychological, social, and human care.Another important component is the creation of youth aggregation initiatives—similar to a cooperative—where young people can work the land, learn practical skills, and rebuild social connections. For older youth, this offers a pathway to independence; for younger ones, a structured environment for recovery and belonging.This is not simply about providing activities. It is about restoring dignity, identity, and perspective—creating spaces where young people feel seen, heard, and valued.However, making this vision a reality requires tangible support. Financial resources are essential, along with the exchange of ideas and collaboration with organizations facing similar challenges. Only then can these efforts expand and truly reach a population spread across a vast and complex territory.What is happening in Tabaka is not just a local crisis. It reflects a broader global vulnerability that becomes more visible in fragile contexts.And perhaps, within this reflection, there is also a question about our own role. The Western presence in Africa—through volunteering, aid, and cooperation—brings opportunities, but also contradictions. Lifestyles, images, and narratives that, if not carefully understood, can create unrealistic expectations, difficult comparisons, and subtle cultural fractures.This is not about questioning the value of help, but about how that help is delivered. Listening, understanding, and respecting local identities and rhythms becomes essential.Because the real challenge today is not only to help—but to do so without creating new forms of loneliness.