Amongst many other things, Nigerians are known for our aphoristic wisdom and profound colloquialisms. There are some I prefer, and others which I abhor.
In particular, there’s a certain Nigerian saying which grinds my gears: “I can’t kill myself”. The saying is not new, but has become more popular since the compounding economic issues facing the country, and the subsequent release of the Timaya track with the same titular phrase. Correlation? Perhaps.
The saying has two meanings, both of which are equally contentious.
If taken metaphorically, it has some stoic undertones which stress the importance of knowing one’s limits (a la locus of control) and maintaining a phlegmatic outlook. We may have taken this part too far.
The more literal interpretation of the phrase suggests that suicide is wrong, not an option, and ultimately not worth it.
Where I’m from, suicide is taboo. In fact, taboo may be putting it lightly. This is unsurprising, especially within a culture ridden with guilt, shame, and judgement – as the three intersect in typical fashion. Previously, I was of the view that the stigma was peculiar to Nigerian society or religious circles. In the years since, I’ve realised that the stigma is far more ubiquitous and extends beyond a certain culture or geography. What’s worse? The stigmas exist universally and under the guise of understanding, awareness and faux-compassion.
I am not nearly as fussed about the array of pitfalls plaguing Nigeria’s socioeconomic landscape, nor about the lyrical nuances behind Timaya’s popular tune. But, my grouse is with the frivolous and thoughtless language surrounding suicide time and time again. September is Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. This year's theme is 'changing the narrative on suicide', hence writing this felt extremely necessary.
A fleeting thought about ending one’s life is something that everyone has probably experienced at some point. According to Samaritans, 1 in 5 individuals have had thoughts of ending their lives. The reasons why people end their lives are numerous, complex, and ultimately not my focus.
At the same time, I will not attempt to generalise or simplify, as suicide is an extremely complex concept to grasp and subsequently address. That being said, there is help available, and I have attached this list of helplines provided by the MIND Charity.
Earlier this year, I began thinking about the etymology of 'suicide' as a potential lever behind its widespread stigma. I learned that the word 'suicide' comes from the Latin suicidium: sui ("of oneself") and caedere ("to kill"). Interestingly, suicide only became used in the English language in the mid-17th century.
According to the Chronological English Dictionary, the word ‘suicide’ appeared in 1651, thereby replacing earlier expressions like 'self-murder.' Suicide had become established as noun and verb by the mid-18th century and was recognised by inclusion in Johnson's Dictionary. In An Etymological Dictionary of the English Language, Walter William Skeat (1882) suggests that the term 'suicide' has origins in the words suicist and suicism, both indicating selfishness, despite being coined (and used) at an earlier date.
I would like to believe it is clear that these earlier definitions are evidently quite problematic. Today, the term 'suicide' has false associations of despair, futility, and failure with ending one’s life.
In the months since, I have developed one conclusion: the stigma exists primarily due to its etymology, AND is subsequently perpetuated by the conventional language surrounding the ‘S word' itself.
Catherine Ruff's The complexity of Roman suicide (1974) provided some useful perspectives on suicide during the era in which Stoicism was birthed. At first glance, Stoicism appears at odds with suicide: it teaches unrelenting resilience and the importance of enduring hardships with dignity. For those unfamiliar with Stoicism, I would suggest briefly reading about the following concepts embodied by the Stoics: virtue, locus of control, apatheia and sympatheia.
Ironically, Zeno, the founder of Stoicism, strangled himself to death.
Ruff posits that condemnation of suicide was virtually impossible without a standard usage. As a result, the philosophers, particularly the Stoics and Epicureans, and even St. Augustine had no 'carte blanche' condemnation of the act.
Similarly, historical literature has depicted self-inflicted deaths without stigma, and in some instances, as acts of heroism. Some examples include Saul, Ophelia and Pyramus & Thisbe (which inspired Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet). Alongside these, the self-inflicted deaths of Cato the Younger, Socrates, Brutus, Cassius, and Mark Antony were also viewed as acts of martyrdom.
Throughout history, attitudes toward suicide as a crime have varied significantly. In Ancient Rome, it was viewed as an offence against the state. During the Medieval Europe period, it was condemned as a sin, resulting in severe penalties like property confiscation and denied burial rights. In 19th Century England, it was decriminalised in 1823, although attempting suicide remained a crime until 1961. Today, while suicide itself is generally not a crime, it continues to be treated with resounding stigma.
Andreas Bähr (2013) highlights the slow, eventual transformation of the social stigmatisation of 'suicide' and 'self-murder' as separate but closely linked concepts. For Bähr, these criticisms have not waned despite the abolition of criminal sanctions, but have instead become more moral condemnations rather than religious ones.
So far, we've established that people ended their own lives for centuries before 'the S word' became commonly used in the English language, but the stigma surrounding the act has since transformed.
Back to the present day.
The stigma in question has primarily involved whether ending one's life is purely 'wrong', or perhaps understandable in some cases. Rarely, if ever, has it been widely accepted, nor do I expect that to [ever] be the case.
Yet, as Bähr posited, the stigma has simply transformed. At first glance, it is easy to attribute this to the increased conversations surrounding mental health, mental illness and suicide, which have enabled greater compassion for a universal sensation: the want to end one's life.
Instead, the stigma remains as a replica of its origin, albeit now beneath a veil of faux-compassion. We're more understanding, and for the most part, we simply find it unfortunate and recognise it as a tragedy. On the surface, we're understanding of the fact that a) people end their lives, b) it is often due to a range of reasons, and c) it is often as a last resort.
Yet, I find the sentiments surrounding hope, optimism, and effort regarding suicide prevention extremely condescending.
To clarify, the purpose of suicide prevention is self-explanatory, and I agree with its premise. However, my contention involves the rhetoric used to prevent this. In my opinion, 'Suicide Prevention Day' amplifies earlier attitudes enabled by the language used around the term. In particular, I believe its etymology and current rhetoric have fed into perceptions of suicide as selfish, irrational or wrong. I believe the reasons for a lot of these attitudes are due to the language being used.
The '-cide' suffix in suicide is on par with homicide, infanticide, and genocide. If we're agreeing with the linguistic determinists, it is easy to see why a stigma exists.
I believe this is essentially due to language transmission – in how the word has lasted centuries – and the sociological beliefs and attitudes embedded within its generational use. The Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis suggests that the language used by a group influences or shapes their thoughts, perceptions, and worldview. It argues that language is not just a tool for communication but also shapes how individuals understand and experience reality.
Many people perceive suicide as 'giving up' or 'ending one's future' often while connoting that those ending their lives – or even contemplating ending their lives – are unable to find enjoyment and/or purpose.
I would like to believe this is not done maliciously, but it is misinformed nonetheless.
Most of these individuals have immediate or proximal goals, meaningful self-awareness, engaging hobbies/interests, and loved ones. Yet, a lot of the language surrounding prevention involves acute cases, where those uninformed may imagine the individuals have perhaps 'forgotten' or 'lost sight of' the goals, purpose, self-awareness, and other fodder for ostensible optimism. While there are more acute cases than chronic, suicide is at its core very complex, thus efforts at its prevention cannot should not be oversimplified.
There are ways to effectively provide support and achieve prevention without condescension or infantilising. Research has consistently revealed that these approaches are disproportionately more effective than hyper-optimistic rhetorics which are actually often riddled with hidden judgement.
In the spirit of 2024's theme, I am glad more organisations are making efforts to rewrite the narrative surrounding suicide. In recent years, people have tried to improve this by changing the phrase 'committed suicide' to 'died by suicide'. Interestingly, although this draws attention to my overarching point, I believe it falls short. Why? If I am told someone 'died by suicide', this still connotes self-murder and enables the regressive and problematic linguistic determinism. The term itself is still harmful, and any efforts to rewrite the narrative and reframe the stigma should begin with a completely new term.
It’s important to note that this would not be the first time a clinical term has been amended after years of usage. Gender identity disorder is now known as gender dysphoria; what was once known as Asperger's syndrome is now recognised as high-functioning autism. Society is constantly evolving, and our language has historically evolved alongside it to either accommodate contemporary viewpoints, or to provide deserved respect to a group in society. In this same way, I feel any supposed efforts at suicide prevention and reframing the stigma will be marginally effective without changing the language used.
I had been sitting on this for months, in part to formulate a concrete argument, and in part to generate a new term. During this period, it was important to remember that the act of taking one's life predated the word 'suicide' itself.
That being said, I believe 'self-inflicted death' would be a far more appropriate term devoid of blame and judgement. In particular, 'self-inflicted death' ensures a preservation of autonomy which I believe could contrast the condescension present within current narratives. Additionally, perhaps this would also remove the peripheral stigmas linked to voluntary assisted dying and assisted suicide.
To round off, struggling with thoughts of self-inflicted death can be incredibly difficult. In proposing a new term, I have a few hopes.
- First, I hope that shifting the language would ease the guilt often tied to these thoughts, helping more people feel able to seek support from others.
- Second, I hope that over time, this change in language would lead those offering support to do so with less judgment and more genuine sympathy.
- Lastly, I hope a symbiotic effect could arise from these first two points, possibly resulting in effective and judgement-free prevention in self-inflicted deaths on a wide scale.
Self-inflicted death is one of the leading causes of death among young people, and if a simple linguistic change could save lives, we should act immediately.
Thanks to Tare Ebimami and Ama Momah for reading drafts of this.