“Empowering Minds: Navigating Mental Health Challenges in NT's Diverse Communities Amidst Crisis”

Meet Lazarus Manbulloo, a man who, after enduring the profound loss of his mother and sister in three short years, turned grief into a beacon of hope for others. Yes, Lazarus didn’t just sit on a couch lamenting his heartache; no, he ventured out to reclaim the lost art of connection through the healing power of nature—and fish.

In a world where “mental health” often feels like a foreign concept, particularly within indigenous cultures, Lazarus found himself spiraling under the weight of his sorrow. “Experiencing that was a really tough time for me,” he reflected, succinctly capturing the emotional rollercoaster that many people shy away from discussing. “I went downhill and had breakdowns and trauma.” But instead of letting that spiral wholly define him, he sought help, only to discover that the available services were as lacking as a good cup of coffee at a bad diner.

Living in Miali Brumby (a name that sounds great until you realize that services geared towards Indigenous men barely existed) and just a stone’s throw from Katherine—300 kilometers southeast of Darwin, for those keeping score—Lazarus found that the mental health programs out there were often tailored for women. It was like shopping for a tailored suit only to find racks full of oversized jackets. Frustrated but not defeated, he decided to change the narrative.

In 2019, in a timely intersection of heart and action, Lazarus joined forces with the Jawoyn Association to spearhead the Munjymens Group—a culturally-led initiative that serves as a mental health support system specifically for Indigenous men. Think of it as a support group with a side of fishing and hunting lessons, because who says you can’t interrogate your emotions while reeling in a catch?

“We talk about lots of issues with mental health,” he explained, all while navigating the serene waters of tradition. “It is good for them to understand and know that we have those sorts of services.” Indeed, there is something profoundly liberating about pairing a fishing rod with an open dialogue—sort of like therapy wrapped in a fishing trip. It’s a blend of Western psychology and the age-old wisdom of Indigenous practices, all designed to address the very real issues of depression, anxiety, and grief.

However, it’s essential to note that despite Lazarus’s inspiring efforts, Northern Territory mental health experts and community leaders are waving red flags regarding the dire shortages of adequate services for culturally diverse communities. “It feels like you’re advocating to a brick wall sometimes,” lamented Rachel Farag, an art therapist—and can we take a moment to acknowledge the resilience and talent of individuals like her?—working tirelessly to provide support where it's most needed.

The numbers don’t lie: in 2020, only 17% of registered psychologists graced the vast openness of remote and regional communities, and a mere 0.8% identified as Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander. It’s as if someone decided that mental health should be a selective club with a not-so-secret password, and guess what? Very few people have the key.

Lazarus's journey sheds light on the overlooked aspects of multicultural mental health support, which many believe is treated as an afterthought in funding decisions. “There should be a campaign from the government to reach out to them through their community leaders,” echoed Edwin Joseph from the Multicultural Council of the Northern Territory. Because, let’s be honest, folks—how can anyone find their footing if they don’t even know where to look?

As the newly elected Country Liberal Party government has decided to mix mental health into the broader health portfolio rather than allowing it to stand solo, the immediate future seems precarious. But let’s hope Lazarus and his band of supportive brothers can continue their fishing trips and heartfelt conversations, because at the end of the day, we all need a friend, a fishing rod, and perhaps a little laughter—even if it's wrapped in a tale of hardship.