A Society That Seeks the Meaning of Life : Rajesh Shilpkar

World Suicide Prevention Day is observed every year on 12 September. For the 2024–2026 period, the International Association for Suicide Prevention has adopted the theme “Changing the Narrative on Suicide”, with the message “Start the Conversation.” The campaign calls for a shift in the way society understands suicide—not merely as a statistic or an individual tragedy, but as an issue deeply connected to mental health, social relationships, economic hardship, family circumstances and the availability of timely support.
The situation in Nepal is deeply concerning. According to Nepal Police data cited in the source material, 6,866 people died by suicide in the fiscal year 2024/25, an average of around 18 deaths every day. Behind each number is a person with a family, relationships, hopes and an unfinished story. Suicide, therefore, cannot simply be explained as a matter of personal weakness. Such an explanation overlooks the complex circumstances that may push an individual towards despair.
Suicide is rarely the result of a single moment. In many cases, it follows a prolonged period of emotional and psychological distress. Poverty, debt, unemployment, family conflict, relationship breakdown, social humiliation, domestic violence, exclusion, pressure to succeed and uncertainty about the future can gradually accumulate. A person who appears perfectly normal on the outside may be struggling profoundly within. The first step towards prevention, therefore, is not to judge or blame, but to listen.
Several high-profile cases of suicide and self-immolation in Nepal in recent years have raised serious questions about the society in which we live. Such incidents should not be treated merely as sensational news stories. They should compel us to examine the social, economic and psychological circumstances surrounding them. The cases of Ganesh Nepali and Prem Prasad Acharya, among others, have drawn attention to the pressures created by economic hardship, social expectations and a sense of helplessness.
The case of Prem Prasad Acharya, in particular, triggered a wider discussion about financial distress, debt, unemployment, business difficulties and citizens’ frustrations with state institutions. When people facing serious problems feel that their concerns are not heard or that the system offers them no meaningful support, their despair becomes more than an individual problem. It raises fundamental questions about the relationship between citizens and the state.
Suicide and homicide are fundamentally different forms of death, yet both raise a common social question: How well does our society listen to human suffering? Preventing homicide requires law enforcement, security and justice. Preventing suicide requires something equally important—supportive social relationships, accessible mental-health services, economic security, family support and systems capable of responding when people are in crisis. Keeping people alive is important, but creating conditions in which people can live with dignity is even more fundamental.
We often measure development through roads, bridges, buildings, technology and economic growth. But mental well-being, social security and people’s sense of hope are also important indicators of development. If physical infrastructure expands while people become increasingly isolated, anxious and hopeless, our understanding of development remains incomplete. At the centre of development must ultimately be the human being.
It would also be wrong to blame suicide simply on Western lifestyles. Modern lifestyles have brought positive changes, including greater personal freedom, respect for individual choices and greater openness about mental health. The problem is not modernity itself. The deeper concern lies in the weakening of social relationships and the growing tendency to measure human worth through competition, achievement and material success. Nepal can embrace the positive aspects of modernity without abandoning its traditions of community and solidarity.
One of the traditional strengths of Nepali society was its sense of community. Neighbours stood beside one another during difficult times, families maintained close relationships and communities often responded collectively to crises. Those bonds are gradually weakening. Even people living under the same roof may struggle to communicate meaningfully. A person may have hundreds or thousands of connections on social media and yet have no one with whom they can honestly share their deepest concerns. This contradiction is one of the defining challenges of modern society.
The family can be the first institution of mental health. If someone begins behaving differently, withdraws from others, appears persistently hopeless or repeatedly speaks about failure and worthlessness, such signs should not be dismissed. Telling someone to “be strong” or saying that “everyone has problems” does not solve the underlying issue. What matters is creating an environment in which people can speak without fear of judgement and receive professional support when necessary.
We must also reconsider the traditional definition of masculinity. The belief that men should not cry, should not express emotional pain and must silently carry every burden forces many men to hide their struggles. Expressing emotional distress is not a sign of weakness. Asking for help is not weakness either. Allowing people to acknowledge and communicate their pain is an important part of suicide prevention.
Women facing domestic violence, social control, economic dependence and persistent psychological pressure may also experience profound distress. Treating violence inside the home as a “private matter” can leave victims even more isolated. Ensuring women’s safety, dignity and economic independence is not only a matter of gender justice; it is also directly connected to mental well-being and the protection of life.

The situation of Nepal’s younger generation is equally complex. On the one hand, young people have access to unprecedented opportunities through education, technology and global connectivity. On the other, they face unemployment, intense competition, economic pressure and uncertainty about the future. Social media constantly exposes them to images of other people’s success, creating the impression that their own lives are inadequate. The distance between the carefully presented world of social media and the realities of everyday life can deepen feelings of failure and frustration.
Foreign employment has supported the economic survival of millions of Nepali families, but its psychological costs are rarely discussed sufficiently. Separation from family, demanding working conditions, financial obligations, debt and uncertainty can place considerable emotional pressure on migrant workers. Families at home, therefore, need to understand not only the economic contribution of those working abroad but also the emotional burdens they may be carrying.
Social media has become an integral part of modern life. It has expanded access to information, communication and opportunity, but it has also created new forms of comparison, trolling, cyberbullying and public humiliation. A cruel comment made online can cause real emotional harm. Digital citizenship, responsible communication and awareness of cyberbullying must therefore become part of broader social education.
The media has a particularly sensitive responsibility when reporting suicide. Reporting should focus less on graphic or unnecessary details and more on the wider social context, prevention and available sources of support. Suicide should never be sensationalised or romanticised. The privacy and dignity of individuals and families must be respected. Journalism should not merely report a death; it should also help society understand that timely support can save lives.
The first responsibility of the state is to listen to its citizens. People facing economic hardship need effective social protection. Those without employment need opportunities. People struggling with financial difficulties need access to appropriate advice and support. Victims of domestic violence need protection, while mental-health services must become accessible to everyone, rather than being treated as a luxury available only to a privileged few.
Local governments can play a particularly important role. Municipalities and rural municipalities can establish community-based counselling services, crisis-support mechanisms, school and youth programmes and systems for identifying people at risk. Health workers, teachers, community organisations, religious institutions, women’s groups, youth organisations and the media can work together to create stronger networks of support.
Schools, too, must recognise that life matters more than examination scores. A poor result, an academic failure or losing a competition is not the end of life. Children and adolescents need to learn how to deal with failure, express emotions, solve problems and seek help when necessary. Schools should not prepare students only for examinations; they should also prepare them for life.
We must also redefine what success means in Nepali society. A good job, financial prosperity, a large house or social status may be parts of a successful life, but they are not the only measures of human worth. Peace of mind, healthy relationships, dignity, family security and satisfaction with one’s own life are equally important. Every person has a different journey, and comparing one’s life constantly with that of others can be deeply damaging.
Nepal needs a broad National Life-Support Campaign for suicide prevention. Such an initiative should go beyond slogans and connect families, schools, communities, health institutions, media organisations, local governments and state agencies within a coordinated framework. People experiencing a crisis should know where to turn, whom to contact and how to receive timely assistance.
Families, meanwhile, can begin with simple but meaningful steps. They can make time for regular conversations, listen without immediately judging or interrupting, take noticeable behavioural changes seriously, avoid pressuring people to hide their problems and encourage professional support when necessary. Above all, people in distress should not be blamed for their suffering. Sometimes the most important thing a person needs to hear is simply: “I am here to listen to you.”
Suicide prevention is not merely about preventing death. It is about giving people an opportunity to return to life. Someone may be passing through an extremely dark period, but that darkness does not have to define the rest of their life. A timely conversation, family support, community solidarity and professional care can help a person find another path.
World Suicide Prevention Day should therefore not be reduced to a formal observance or a series of social media messages. It should prompt a much more fundamental question: Are we truly listening to the people around us?
We should not ignore sudden changes in someone’s behaviour. We should not ridicule people when they speak about their pain. We should not regard those who seek help as weak. When someone is in serious distress, we should not leave them isolated, and where necessary, we should help them reach appropriate professional support.
Ultimately, suicide prevention is not simply about stopping a story of death. It is about changing the story of life. It means helping people rediscover reasons to live, listening to their pain, acknowledging their struggles and standing beside them during difficult moments. Respect for life begins with compassion.
This year, therefore, let us not limit the message of World Suicide Prevention Day to a single date. Let us start the conversation today. A simple conversation, a phone call, a visit or a compassionate response can make an enormous difference to someone’s life.
Life is precious. Protecting it is not the responsibility of one institution or one sector alone. It is a responsibility we all share.

