Art, Healing, and the Work That Really Matters

Working in mental health was never a paid job for me. People would say, “You have so many events and such large audiences, you must be making a fortune!” And I’d laugh internally and wonder: do I even want money for this? My journey started like someone drenched in a canoe, seeing an arm flash in the water, and reaching out to grab it. What kind of payment can you give someone who has saved your life? Isn’t that what mental health is? The thing that keeps us together when everything feels like it’s falling apart?

As a youth-led mental health organization, we moved through schools and institutions, invite by invite, as it became clear just how many people needed this. The number of students whispering about suicide or self-harm was heartbreaking. The petitions asking us to come back were encouraging. But the lives we couldn’t reach, the ones we lost along the way, left us with scars and heavy hearts.

We held events in Nairobi that welcomed people of all ages, from toddlers to youth in their 30s. Art was our language, and it was powerful. Because art doesn’t need words, translation, or permission. Everyone can understand pain when they see it, and everyone can express themselves through it. A single drawing, a poem, a movement and suddenly the unspoken becomes visible. Art allows people to communicate the things they cannot say, to feel seen, and to release what has been held inside. It is not decoration. It is therapy. It is connection. It is survival.

We told them they were not crazy. The ones who had been told “umechizi” or called “mwendawazimu” learned about chemical imbalances, coping mechanisms, and how to get help when they needed it. We danced with them, sang with them, listened to spoken word poetry performances, and asked everyone to create something. It turns out that anyone can be an artist if they carry enough pain, hidden sorrow, or unspoken words. And when we shared, we healed. People were healing. We were healing.

This was a slow, impactful journey… not about numbers, but about impact. Every story mattered. Every voice mattered. And we took our time, because this work cannot be rushed.

If you’ve read this far, you might understand what it means to cry with no tears or to bleed without turning red. Mental health is messy. Healing is not linear. I write more about this messy journey here. But with one step at a time, we go further than we ever thought possible. If you’re looking to engage in work that has impact or are looking for a community that really understands mental health is but explores it delicately, then Art & Flickers is definitely your home. Reach out through my email, or by clicking on that link.

In the end, mental health is not about perfection, success, or money.
It’s about connection, expression, and taking that next step together.
And that step? Trust me, it is always worth it.