Some thoughts unmasked by two deaths – in Suicide Land

Sep 20, 2015 Countryman, Features / Columnists

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By Dennis Nichols

‘Big up Guyana’ was a major theme in my last article. But this paradox of a country forces me to confront, time and again, other less attractive indications of how well or badly we are doing as a nation. And because a people is made up of individuals, they relate to each of us, so that any person’s adverse experiences, poverty, sickness, failure etc… reflect on elements of our national ethos we’d rather forget – ugly ones.

Statistics deemed trustworthy and accurate by those who use them, tell us Guyana has the highest suicide rate in the world. It came as a horrible shock to many people. There have been ongoing efforts to address this predicament, but getting to its real roots seems a near- impossible task. I’m no authority on this subject, but here’s my few cents’ worth of food for thought.

First, following this apoplectic jolt, the 2015 suicide figures seem to be indicating a disturbing increase over last year. Now you would think this is a big enough whammy for our poor country along with the head-shaking perception of backwardness other nations have of us. But that’s not all!

There’s the murder rate, among the highest in the world. Mental illness dims the picture further. It conjuncts with both suicide and homicide, fed by alcohol and drug abuse, and domestic violence. Sometimes it seems a miracle that we still view our nationhood with any degree of cohesion, social or otherwise. The suicide rate in particular, requires us to be on guard and to forestall the crumbling of our nation’s soul.

Thirty years ago, during the August school break, I was listening to Death Announcements at home. I heard a name called, then an address, and a school. Dumbfounded, I realized that it was someone I knew. She was a 12-year-old girl I had taught at St. Barnabas School on Regent Street, a shy, beautiful girl now beginning to blossom into womanhood. I knew her father and where she lived. Upon enquiry, I found out that she had ingested a poisonous substance.

My heart ached. At her funeral I could still see traces of foam on her lips which led me to believe the poison was still doing its insidious work. I reflected on what her thoughts and feelings might have been in those moments before, during, and after her fatal act. I still see her face today – pensive, or with the faint hint of a smile. Did I miss something as her teacher? Did her parents miss tell-tale signs? I heard later that her actions were prompted by a row over a boyfriend.

Fast forward thirty years to September 2015. In the space of two weeks there have been two baffling apparent suicides, a woman and a child, both of whom were making, or could have made, significant contributions to this nation. Lalita Sivanand and Joshua Beepat could have been mother and son. They had families. They both engaged in social interaction. Relatives and friends may have thought of them as normal, well-adjusted, and well-loved human beings.

Few people seem to understand the mind and heart of a potential suicide victim partly because it’s a SELF problem. Millions of people are forever trying to ‘find themselves’. And if we attempt to analyze this soul search, we may begin to fathom the inner loneliness and hopelessness which those who commit suicide, or attempt it, experience.

Like a panic attack, it doesn’t seem to matter that such feelings may be short-lived. While they are happening, the world is a frighteningly-cold, uncaring place. Death is a relief. And although like someone said, it’s a permanent solution to a temporary problem, oblivion, reincarnation or eternal life in an other-worldly paradise (depending on your religious belief/philosophy) doesn’t appear to be such a terrible consequence.

Not all of these acts stem from this kind of introspection, and there are as many reasons as there are methods for ending one’s life. A suicide may stem from a typical Guyanese ‘fly into a passion’ moment of insanity. Or it could be a manipulative act aimed at eliciting profound guilt from some tormentor, often imagined; usually a close relative or friend.

According to some mind doctors, frustration, depression, great loss, terminal illness and psychosis are among the more common triggers although the problem may be purely biological, e.g. organic brain disease. But self-absorption usually plays a key role.

From my point-of-view, poor self-worth and self-perception do not necessarily parade themselves on the outside. They often hide in dark places, difficult for even the most skilled observers to see or psychiatrists to reach. They may be suffocating under layers of superficial expression, like the clichéd tears of a clown, the bluster of a school bully; even the perfectionism of a ‘conscientious’ worker.

With regard to the two recent apparent suicides mentioned earlier, I commiserate strongly with the feelings of the Berbice schoolboy if, as has been suggested, he was overcome with embarrassment because of a teacher’s harsh reproach. I was Joshua, at Queen’s College 50 years ago. It was uncanny how the boy’s picture that accompanied the story reminded me of myself then.

I first read about that incident on my Facebook page, and responded to it, and to comments made by fellow users. The last sentence of my comment included these words ‘… when I hear of a child who committed suicide, I can say with all honesty, “That, but for the grace of God, could have been me.” ’ Strong words!

Embarrassment was, as they say, my middle name at Queens. One example will suffice. A First Form teacher had asked a question to which I gave a stupid answer. He looked at me (contemptuously I thought) and intoned like a curse, “When you die, they shall erect a tombstone over your grave with these words ‘Here lies Nichols – dimmest of the dimwits!”’ My classmates tittered. I blanched inwardly.

From being hailed as a bright young scholar after acing my Common Entrance exam a year earlier, I became a ‘resolute’ failure academically, and quit high school at the end of Fourth Form, at age 15. I don’t blame this teacher exclusively for it, but that was undoubtedly a watershed moment in my life.

The words have reverberated in my head ever since. My story is too long and convoluted to get into here. It took five long, delinquent years and the encouragement of a perceptive sister before I could even think again about succeeding academically. During that period I remember going to a drugstore on Regent Street and enquiring about a bottle of sleeping pills; I wished for oblivion, then changed my mind. A few years later I wrote my GCE ‘O’ Levels and entered CPCE.

But not everyone who suffers emotional/psychological trauma is as ‘lucky’ as me. There were people in my life who helped to validate my worth as a human being. And a nascent spirituality, growing out of my parents’ religious guidance, also helped. I don’t know what kind of nurturing and support structures may have been in place for Joshua Beepat and Lalita Sivanand if suicide was indeed their choice.

I do know that we need a comprehensive education programme for all Guyanese to help us better understand certain truths and misconceptions about suicide. Psychiatrists and psychologists reiterate that most suicidal people are deeply conflicted about ending their own lives. They wish there was an alternative … but they just can’t see one.

We can be their eyes, and their safety nets. We can be mind-readers, spirit-lifters and amateur psychiatrists. We can reach out and empathize more. We’re Guyanese, and each of us is worth the effort.

 

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