By Mercy and Tony

In the heart of the informal settlement of Kahawa Soweto, a place we call our community, a place we call home, something special began to take root. It was a simple idea that grew into something deeply meaningful – a mental health cafe.

In February this year, we had the opportunity to receive training on mental health through the support of several amazing organizations. Tabasamu Café, SDI-Kenya and Basic Needs Basic Rights Kenya came through and equipped us with valuable knowledge and skills to support our community. The training focused on understanding mental health, promoting well-being, and creating safe spaces for open conversations.

This experience empowered me to facilitate mental health cafés with confidence and compassion, alongside my teammate Tony. The support from these organizations truly laid the foundation for the impact we are now making in our community.

Together, Tony and I have been hosting these mental health cafés in a small community hall every two weeks. Truth be told, when we started, we did not have all the answers. What we had was a desire to create a safe space where people could talk about their mental health without fear of shame or judgment. What happened next, changed us forever. We set up a safe space to be real.

At our first cafe, we were not sure what to expect. We arranged chairs in a circle and in bated breath, waited and watched as each chair was occupied by community members one after the other. The room was quiet at first. We explained that this was a safe space. Everything said in this room was going to stay in this room.

A young lady going by the name Mildred spoke up. We found out that she was a young mother. “I feel like I have forgotten who I am. I am always busy caring for others. I do not even know the last time I sat still,” she said. Her voice cracked. No one laughed. No one judged. Everyone listened attentively, some nodding in understanding.

That was the moment we knew. We knew what we were doing matters.

Over the course of conducting these cafes and engaging with our community members, listening to some of their most intimate stories, we have learnt a couple of valuable lessons. The first lesson is that people just want to be heard. Getting an opportunity to share their stories out loud without interruption or advice is enough to start the healing process. Everyone is carrying a weight. Whether it’s grief, anxiety, loneliness, or burnout — mental health touches us all. You never know what someone is going through until they feel safe enough to open up.

Silence can be sacred. Not everyone speaks every time. That’s okay. Being in the room, sitting in solidarity, often says more than words can.

The second lesson is that laughter is part of healing. We have cried with people and yes we have also laughed over funny memories, danced during our creative sessions and shared hopeful stories that lifted the spirits of everyone in the room.

A memorable highlight from one of our cafés was a session on selfcare where community members were guided on how to do a simple breathing exercise. One participant later told us, “I slept properly for the first time in weeks after trying that technique.” A second memorable highlight was a session on personalities. It was interesting that most of the youth attending the cafes did not have an understanding of their personalities. Following the session, they were able to understand their strengths as well as weaknesses and how they impacted their interpersonal relationships and achievement of their goals. In the end, it was a motivating and educating lesson for them.

Facilitating these cafés has taught us humility, empathy and the power of holding space. We have become better listeners, more patient friends, and more grounded individuals. It has also deepened our sense of purpose.

We have realized that one does not need to be a therapist to support someone else’s mental health. Often, you just need to show up. Every time someone shares their truth, we all grow braver together. What’s important is that we keep the conversation going.

Mental health cafés are not about fixing people, they are about walking with them side by side. Our hope is that more communities will create spaces like this. We do not need fancy buildings or big budgets. We need open hearts, a kettle of tea, and the courage to listen.

To anyone thinking about starting something similar, do it. Start small. Stay consistent. You never know whose life you might touch.