On this World Mental Health Day: Who Heals the Healers?

Leadership, particularly in South Africa, is not always a glamorous ascent to power—it is often a searing, gut-wrenching journey through corridors haunted by history and impossibly high expectations. It’s a brutal, soul-crushing dance on the edge of chaos, a precarious balancing act on a razor's edge. The weight of responsibility, far from liberating, can feel like a chokehold. The suffocating burden of expectations, so loud yet unspoken, piles relentlessly onto every decision, every action, until it borders on the unbearable. And still leaders soldier on, caught between duty and survival, between serving others and keeping themselves afloat. But as they hold the world together, who tends to their wounds? Who heals the healers when the burden becomes too heavy to carry?

Leading in South Africa is to carry the unhealed wounds of a nation and to patch up the fractures of a past that still fester. Being a leader in Mzansi is like walking through the gauntlet of history, expected to heal a society still choked by inequity while steering it toward a future still shrouded in doubt. It is an impossible paradox: those who lead us are tasked with fixing systems designed to limit their own potential while proving themselves worthy of the roles they inhabit. The weight of representation, the unrelenting pressure to prove oneself in every action, every word, is suffocating. But who steps in when the storms of doubt and fatigue threaten to consume them?

In corporate boardrooms, educational institutions, and community spaces, leaders wear their armour of authority. They go on completing their missions carrying the weight of entire communities on their shoulders. Determination is etched on their faces, but beneath the tough exterior lies something fragile. Behind that polished fa?ade of strength, control, and competence is an unguarded space where fear, doubt, and weariness fester like an open wound. The world only sees strength; the leader feels the sting of every misstep, every opportunity lost, every expectation unmet. But revealing that weakness would be unforgivable—a betrayal of the strong front they are expected to maintain.

Leaders often become isolated, marooned in the treacherous waters of decision making, weighed down by the impossible task of guiding others to shore while drowning in their own storms. And the irony is glaring: the very people tasked with rescuing others might themselves be adrift, untethered. Who gives them a lifeline?

In this harsh and unspoken reality, leaders are expected to be invincible: warriors immune to the pressures and pain that come with power. But at what cost? The silent erosion of their mental health is often invisible, a private sacrifice on the altar of ambition. If they dare voice their need for help, they risk being seen as weak, unfit for the very roles for which they are praised. So, they continue to heal others while bleeding internally, patching up broken systems as their own cracks deepen.

On this World Mental Health Day, let us pause for a moment to ask: who heals the healers? As South Africa rebuilds itself, who is rebuilding the resilience of those tasked with leading us forward?