It felt like someone was talking to me

At the age of 27, Efa is juggling a lot. She is a university student in her final year, a small business owner and a young woman building an independent life in Dili, the capital of Timor-Leste. Originally from Ermera municipality, she moved to the city in search of opportunity, like many young people her age, carrying both big dreams and quiet worries with her.

“I do everything,” she says with a laugh, “I’m studying, running a small business, and still trying to find a stable job. It’s complicated, but I try.”

Alongside her studies, Efa runs a paper-recycling business, creating handmade wedding invitations, notebooks and souvenirs. Her days are busy, her weekends are often filled with work, coffee catchups with friends, and moments of reflection about the future. “I hope for financial stability,” she says, “And I want to learn more about Business Innovation technology and AI.”

But like many young people in Timor-Leste, Efa has also had to navigate emotional challenges, often without formal support.

Growing up without the language for mental health

Efa’s childhood was shaped by separation and loss. Her parents divorced when she was very young. “I didn’t see my mother again until I was 11, but I know her prayers were always with me,” she says. She was raised by her grandparents and her father, who worked hard to raise his children as a single parent.

“My grandparents were like my second mother and father,” she says, “They raised us until they passed away.” These early experiences influenced how Efa learned to cope. “I don’t take things seriously sometimes,” she admits, “I make jokes, even in serious moments. I think it’s because growing up, I didn’t always feel I was heard.”

Mental health was not something openly discussed in her family. “For my family, we don’t really talk about mental health,” she explains, “But with my friends, we do. We always check on each other.” Efa believes this gap between generations is deeply connected to Timor-Leste’s history. “My generation is the first generation after independence,” she says, “The previous generation was focused on survival. They didn’t have the space to talk about mental health.”

Discovering the On My Mind podcast by chance

Efa first came across the On My Mind podcast unexpectedly on a billboard in Dili. Curious, she scanned the QR code and started listening. “My first impression was, ‘Wow, this is something new for Timor-Leste,’” she recalls, “It felt modern. It was digital. It felt like something young people actually need.”

The eight-episode series was launched during World Mental Health Day in October 2025 and promoted through UNICEF’s social media platforms and school-based awareness sessions in four municipalities. Developed in partnership with Spotify and supported by UNICEF Headquarters’ mental health and psychosocial support team, the podcast draws on evidence-based, expert-reviewed global resources to ensure high-quality and reliable information for young listeners.

What stood out immediately was the language. For the first time, Efa was listening to mental health content in Tetum. “Before, I heard mental health podcasts only in English or Portuguese,” she says, “But hearing it in our own language felt different. I felt like someone knew me. Like someone was hearing me.”

Listening while working, the podcast became a quiet companion in her day. “It felt like I was talking with a friend,” she says, “The voices were calm. The pace was slow. It helped me breathe.”

Learning new tools, and using them

One episode, in particular, stayed with her: the first episode of the series. “People say mental health issues are a problem, but this episode explained that they’re a normal thing,” Efa explains, “Everyone goes through them.”

She says that the tool that has been most useful to her is the 5-4-3-2-1 exercise, which has helped her to deal with anxiety. The podcast has helped her recognize her anxiety when it shows up, even if in subtle ways, and then practice the techniques to help her to work through it. “I practiced it while I was working,” she says, “I focused on what I could see, hear, smell. It gave my mind something else to hold on to, instead of the stress in my head.”

These tools have helped her in everyday situations, even in moments when she feels the urge to deflect stressful situations with humour. “Now, when I feel anxious or want to make a joke instead of being serious, I stop,” she says, “I take a breath. I focus.”

Why it matters

For Efa, On My Mind fills an important gap. “In Timor-Leste, it’s hard to talk to professionals,” she explains, “It’s a small society and everyone knows everyone. People are scared of being judged.” That’s why the podcast feels safe. “You can listen privately. You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone.”

She now recommends the podcast to her friends, sister and cousins. “I don’t always know what they’re going through,” she says, “But maybe there’s something in the podcast they need to hear.”

Looking ahead, Efa hopes to see even more content supporting young people’s mental health, including episodes that talk about family problems, work stress and relationships. But above all, she hopes the conversation continues.

“This podcast gives young people courage,” she says, “It helps them feel less alone.”

For Efa, that feeling of being understood, in her own language has made all the difference.