In 2020 Edith one of the founders of Cry no More a community-based organization found unexpected light in the darkness of covid 19 lock down, as the world shut down under curfews and uncertainty, she welcomed her first child. Four years later she and her husband decided to try for another child. What they expected to be a joyful journey quietly turned into months of heartbreak. Each time her period returned it felt like a personal failure. After months of uncertainty, Edith conceived again. Relief washed over her family, she started receiving antenatal care, and was reassured that despite her previous cesarean section, she could still go for a normal delivery. At 36 weeks, doctors detected low amniotic fluid and given her history, an elective cesarean section was recommended. On the appointed day, Edith delivered a health baby girl at around 6pm, and she recalls the overwhelming gratitude she felt seeing her new born safe. Thirty minutes later her joy had turned into a fight for survival. She developed severe pain in the abdomen, and the midwife called the doctor, after 10 minutes of abdominal massage, the pain returned, they called the doctors again and was put on close monitoring, and within no time she was losing oxygen. “I can’t breathe! Her oxygen level is dropping, Emergency… Emergency! Pull the oxygen tank the midwife screamed, take her back to the theater, the doctor added, Sign the consent forms the doctor told her husband, she was put on the stretcher and rushed back to theater. Edith recalls gaining consciousness for seconds, “put her in the theater that is near the ambulance, “bring the big oxygen mask, check her blood type on her form” she recalls. After 10 hours of unconsciousness, she came back grateful, but survival, she would later learn is not the same as healing. Three days later she was discharged from hospital. Two months post-partum Edith was thriving well, but one evening as she waited for her husband to return home from work, her heart suddenly felt as though it had stopped-only to restart in a rapid rhythm. She struggled to breath, fear consumed her. She went to a near by hospital and all virtual were normal. One week later, she got another attack of breathlessness, racing heartbeat, dizziness and she feared that she would slip into unconsciousness. Doctors ran test after test: heart scans, blood work, d-dimers, pulmonary embolism, endoscopy procedures, but results came up back normal. With no medical explanation, fear filled the gap. Edith was afraid that the next attack would take her life, she got afraid to sleep, to be alone, to sit anywhere she had gotten an attack. Neighbors and her family began to gather urgent discussions “perhaps she had been bewitched, may be its evil spirits! One wondered. One evening without telling her much, they drove her to a rural shrine on the outskirts of town, the witchdoctor declared that a dark force was disturbing her spirit, he performed rituals over her trembling body and bathed in herbal mixtures. When she went home, she wondered what she had done wrong, why she is being attacked, the fear deepened, the episodes worsened. At night her heart would pound violently, her hands felt detached from her body and the more she feared attacks the more powerful they become. Her family kept on trying one shrine after the other, religious places and all sorts of herbs. It was only months later a family friend insisted on a psychiatric evaluation, that Edith was taken to a psychiatric hospital. In her community psychiatric hospitals were not places of healing but places for “Mad people” places where people are chained, sedated or forgotten, and if anyone was taken there, it meant the family had failed, they meant shame! Edith was welcomed, and she came to an understanding that psychiatric places were safe environments not the misconception people had. After talking with a psychiatrist, her chest loosened, her appetite returned and for the first time her suffering had a name: panic disorder. She got to understand that her brain had been stuck in fight or flight mode, so her body was reacting to perceived danger even though she was safe. After a few weeks the medication steadied her sleep, the constant panic softened, she began to laugh, her family too. She went back to work after different counselling sessions and medication. Edith explains that the hardest part of her treatment was stigma, the belief that psychiatric care meant permanent madness, the assumption among her extended family and members of the community that mental health treatment could not possibly offer real solutions. Her story reflects painful reality, when mental health literacy is low, fear fills the gap, families turn to tradition out of confusion, this delays diagnosis, increases stigma, hinder seeking behavior and potentially escalate self-harm. Cry no more seeks to promote early detection of mental challenges, reduce stigma, strengthen referral systems and provide accessible psycho- social support, with a belief that mental health is a strength not a weakness.