Climate Disasters and the Hidden Toll on Mental Health
The world over, the weather is unpredictable. Seasons that used to follow familiar patterns now bring prolonged droughts and heavy rains, resulting in devastating floods. In communities where resources are already limited, these shifts don’t just disrupt daily life. They can unravel it entirely.
In Uganda, heavy rains in 2024 and 2025 caused widespread flooding, displacing families and destroying homes. In Kampala, entire communities were forced to start over with little warning and even fewer safety nets. Michael, a 38-year-old father of six, was one of them.
On July 21, 2025, floodwaters swept through Michael’s home, destroying almost everything in its wake. He was later evicted from his land following government action, leaving his family without a place to go. For weeks, they sheltered under a tarpaulin. Eventually, they moved in with his younger brother, but the space was too small.
The strain was overwhelming. Michael stopped eating and sleeping. He felt hopeless and disoriented, unsure how to provide for his family. He couldn’t find a path forward. At his lowest point, he thought about ending his life.
This reality often goes unspoken in conversations about climate change. Beyond the visible destruction, there is a psychological toll in the aftermath of a crisis like this that makes recovery feel even more out of reach.
Michael’s turning point came through an unexpected connection. A local community leader introduced him to a StrongMinds mental health program. He was looking for financial support, but found something different. In group talk therapy, Michael began to understand what he was experiencing. The exhaustion, hopelessness, and confusion had a name: depression.
Surrounded by others who also lost homes and livelihoods, he realized he wasn’t alone. Over time, something shifted. By sharing his story and hearing others, he started to process what happened and learn practical ways to manage overwhelming emotions. His circumstances had not yet changed, but his ability to navigate them had, and with that came a renewed sense of control.
Today, Michael has rebuilt more than just his livelihood. He runs a small business selling chapati and has started a mining venture to support his family. He has reunited with his wife and children. In his community in Busabala, he’s known as a “flower of the town,” a reflection of the resilience he now carries. He also gives back by serving as a facilitator and helping others recognize the signs of depression and find support.
As climate-related disasters become more frequent and more severe, stories like Michael’s are becoming more common. The need for mental health support is not separate from these crises, but is central to recovery.
