In recent years, conversations around mental health have grown, especially after the 2015 earthquake and the Covid-19 outbreak. People are starting to talk about emotional well-being, trauma, stress, and anxiety. This shift is significant and necessary for a society like Nepal’s, where such topics are still considered taboo.

However, this growing awareness is largely concentrated in the capital, Kathmandu. People in the city have relatively better access to counselling centres, awareness workshops, social media campaigns, and support networks, provided they are available and accessible. However, through my experience in the field, I’ve come to realise that beyond the valley, mental health often remains a silent, unfamiliar, and invisible struggle. This raises an important question: Do we want to create impact where it’s most needed, or will we continue to overlook mental well-being in communities beyond the capital’s reach?

The need for mental health awareness in communities away from the capital is even more urgent, as people there face equally, if not more, serious mental health challenges. Factors like poverty, limited opportunities, gender discrimination, migration of family members, and the lasting trauma of natural disasters can leave deep emotional wounds. Yet, many individuals in these areas often remain unaware of what they are experiencing, or that professional support is something they can access and deserve.

Without awareness, many see these challenges as just another chapter of their hardship, which they must “accept” and “be strong”. Many individuals don’t have the language to describe what they are feeling. They may not know what “anxiety” or “depression” means, but they can very well describe sleepless nights, loss of appetite, body aches from constant worry, or a heavy heart that feels impossible to carry. These aren’t just passing emotions. They are real signs of emotional distress that deserve attention and care.

As mental health professionals, when we can work with communities outside Kathmandu, we witness firsthand how deep the lack of awareness runs. But the people themselves are not to blame. The issue lies in how narrowly mental health support has been distributed, concentrated in a few urban areas rather than reaching across the country.

Even in communities where awareness is beginning to take root, those who do understand mental health often keep it to themselves due to the harsh judgment and stigma that still surround these conversations. It is high time we shift our perspective. Mental health challenges should not be viewed solely through the lens of serious mental illness. They can also be part of the natural highs and lows that life presents. Because of individual differences, some may cope well, while others may struggle quietly and without support, and that silence can turn dangerous before anyone even notices.

This is why mental health awareness across Nepal is so crucial. Every district, municipality, and village should have safe spaces where people can discuss their emotions without fear or judgment. Educating communities that mental health is as important as physical health must become a priority.

Awareness initiatives in communities should not be seen as quick fixes. One-time campaigns around such deeply misunderstood and stigmatised topics often do more harm than good, leaving people confused or even more hesitant to speak up. What’s needed is consistency, patience, and long-term engagement. People will take time to understand these concepts, after all, many have gone their whole lives without hearing the language of mental well-being.

Think of it like teaching a child the alphabet for the first time. We don’t expect fluency overnight. We guide them, patiently and consistently, from letters to words to sentences. Similarly, building mental health literacy requires steady effort, empathy, and trust over time. It’s a challenging path, but one we can walk together.

The good news is that Nepal has strong, close-knit communities. People trust their neighbours, teachers, health workers, and local leaders. By training and empowering these trusted individuals to recognise signs of mental distress and offer basic support or referrals, we can reach those who may never seek formal counselling.

Schools can become spaces where students learn not just math and science, but also how to express feelings and cope with pressure. Aama Samuha (Mothers’ groups) can be trained to support each other emotionally. Local health posts can include basic mental health screening and counselling. Radio programmes in regional languages can spread messages of hope and healing. These small, community-based steps can make a big difference.

At the core of it all is empathy, a genuine concern for how others are feeling. Mental health shouldn’t be a topic we acknowledge only on World Mental Health Day or in response to tragic events. It should be a regular part of our daily lives, our conversations, our communities, and our systems.

Mental health is not a city issue; it’s a human issue. And if we want to heal as a nation, we must go beyond the boundaries of Kathmandu and reach the people in every corner of Nepal. Change begins with a simple conversation, a listening ear, and the shared understanding that sometimes it’s okay not to be okay and even more okay to ask for help.

Lastly, mental health doesn’t have a fixed address. It lives wherever people live. And so must awareness, understanding, and help.