Original subtitles

This programme contains scenes which some viewers may find upsetting and deals with suicide.

CHATTER

It's 5am, and I've joined a large crowd at Belfast's Ormeau Park

for the Darkness Into Light event,

a charity walk for those impacted by suicide and self-harm.

People go through dark times.

We all go through dark times.

But this is the symbolism of Darkness Into Light -

the darkness does pass.

Somebody wrote on one of the banners, "Hope - it means hold on.

"Pain ends." That's something to remember.

You've got to hold on. It will pass. The pain will end.

15 years ago, my brother Richard died by suicide.

It had a devastating impact on me and my family

and isn't something I've discussed publicly in great detail, until now.

I think suicidal death is one of the worst deaths,

because it's the unknown and the why.

I can see family members here,

I can see people here who have been on the road of darkness

and they've come out the other side.

It's a great thing, a yearly thing, but it's great for raising awareness

and letting people know it's OK, you can talk.

You know, you don't have to put this all onto yourself.

In this documentary, I'm going to tell my brother's story,

to share my experiences with others who've been affected

and explore what's being done to prevent suicide

here in Northern Ireland.

MUSIC: No More Heroes by The Stranglers

# Whatever happened to Leon Trotsky? #

These are actually Richard's old records,

all boxed away for many years.

I have not seen these since I was a child.

It's unbelievable how a record can just transport you back in time,

that kind of memory of a point in time in your childhood.

He was a huge kind of Sex Pistols, Stiff Little Fingers,

The Clash, The Stranglers - loved his punk, absolutely.

And, you know, I was sort of six, seven, eight,

being bombarded with this music...

LAUGHS ..all day, every day, basically!

You know, I'd be banging the wall, going, "Turn it down!"

There are a number of reasons that I wanted to make this documentary.

I think the first one is the fact that male suicide

is still so prevalent,

the biggest killer of men under the age of 50.

And when you think about that,

you know, when you think of all the other diseases there are out there -

you know, heart attack, stroke, cancer -

but people taking their own lives is the biggest killer,

and, you know, is there some way to examine that?

And I've always sort of felt that if you could just get people to pause

just for a second, an hour a week,

just to think about some alternative to suicide.

MUSIC: Alternative Ulster by Stiff Little Fingers

Another big reason for making the documentary

is about my nephew, Richard's son Finn.

So, he was five when Richard died and he doesn't really remember him.

And, I mean, we all remember him as a child, that nought-to-five,

and how close Richard and Finn's relationship was

and how much he adored him.

And it's so sad to hear Finn say that he doesn't remember his dad.

He's just got the odd little kind of snapshot.

He's now almost 20,

so I think it's nice to have a real sense of the person

that his dad was.

MUSIC GETS LOUDER

Turn it up, then?

SHE LAUGHS

I can just see him dancing to it!

That's so funny.

Definitely transports you back.

# They just want money We can take or leave it

# What we need

# Is an alternative Ulster. #

Alfie McCrory is a Belfast community worker

who I've known for more than 15 years.

Not long after my brother died, Alfie also lost his son, Alfred.

When I got that phone call that day, my whole life just caved in.

He comes to this bench to remember him and his other young son,

who died shortly after childbirth.

The day before Alfred died, I was driving up the Shankill

and he came out of one of the local clubs...

And he waved at me and says, "Hiya, Dad. See you later."

And that was OK and I didn't think anything of it,

didn't see any signs, and then I got a phone call...

I was over in the Ballymac Youth Club,

in the Lower Newtownards Road,

and I got a phone call to say, "You need to get to Alfred's house.

"The police is at it. Something's happening."

And I knew right away. I knew... I had a gut feeling

something was wrong.

And people say, don't they -

and you'll have heard this many times -

people who are in a dark place say,

"Oh, they'd be better off without me."

You know, "The family would be better off without me.

"I'm a burden."

I mean, it's the thing that is the biggest lie in all of this,

isn't it, the impact that it has?

Well, to me, it's a myth, because...if Alfred had

or is looking down on us and seen the love that was there for him,

and if he had took a step back,

or had he went out and went down the road to his mates

or went somewhere else and stood back for five minutes,

he probably would have still been here today

because...I keep wondering...

He would have been 42 now, and I keep wondering

what he would've been like, how many kids he would've had

and what kind of person he would have turned into.

But when that happens...

And I do appreciate people who get into the dark age and say,

"Oh, my family will be better off without me,

"I'm a burden to them and all." But that's... that's not true.

Yet, tragically, just a few months ago,

Alfie also lost his 13-year-old granddaughter.

In the two or three weeks after I lost my granddaughter,

I was getting phone calls from other families,

worried about their teenage kids,

boys and girls around the same age as my granddaughter.

And I was inundated with phone calls

and people stopping me, even walking down the road -

"Can I see you a wee minute? Can you give me advice?

"What's the best thing to do?"

Nobody thinks that it'll come to their door.

And the biggest thing that sticks in my mind,

14 years on and even 12 weeks on, is the word, "Why?"

It's not how they done it or where they done it,

it's why they done it.

That's a question I've asked myself over the past 15 years, too -

a question I'll never be able to answer.

Richard was my big brother, four years older than me.

We grew up with a shared love of the news, and it's no surprise

we both ended up working in the media.

At the time of his death, he was an award-winning war photographer

working for The Times in London.

Some of the most startling images over the last 12 months

were mock-ups, video grabs, pictures taken by soldiers

and people pretending to be soldiers.

There have been many unforgettable pictures which have adorned

our newspapers in 2004.

But equally, there are many whose content we would like to forget.

He was always striving for the ultimate picture.

This one...of the little girl,

and there's a bullet hole in the glass

and her eye's up against the hole where the shattered glass

has gone through.

And there's one just straight afterwards of a little boy.

It wasn't just about the picture,

it was about the relationship with the person he was photographing.

And he was very good at that.

He had the charm and the wit and put people at their ease

and would get great stories that way as well.

So he was a proper photojournalist in that sense.

This photo of a young girl in Zimbabwe had a major impact

when it was published.

Over the years, it's had a lasting impression on me, too.

This girl had a very unusual skin cancer condition,

but she was very poor.

There was no medical assistance available in Zimbabwe

for her community.

And they took this picture.

It went on the front page of The Times,

but there was something about her and that story

that definitely affected him.

Richard was working in Zimbabwe when he died,

the remote location adding to the confusion and shock

at the time of his death,

so it's a country that's always been on my mind.

I suppose I'm just interested to know what it was about Zimbabwe

that affected him so deeply.

I suppose there's maybe always been a sense of restlessness in me

that...I don't really know what that place is like.

It's not somewhere I've ever visited.

And there are still people there that knew him and worked with him.

So, I just would love to have a better understanding

of what that was like for him.

When Richard died back in 2008,

it wasn't just his death but the manner of his death

that impacted our family -

attitudes then very different to now.

Draperstown was once known as the suicide capital of Mid Ulster -

that is, until a community group of dedicated volunteers

decided to do something about it.

And why was it important for you to get involved, Margaret?

It was important because I lost a son to suicide.

And...

..I suppose if there would have been more help, that's...

..23 come, 23 years come.

There was no help at all. That wasn't even talked about.

So...

And got to meet a lot of people

that were in the same boat as ourselves, so...

So, I've lost a cousin on both sides.

So, Aidan was 23 and Ronan was almost 28.

And the only thing that changed...

Ronan died in 2000, Aidan died in 2008,

and the only thing that changed in that time

was that people had stopped being as shocked.

So no help, no support, but people weren't as shocked any more,

people were nearly numb to it.

And then, like, without it... STEPS started in 2012,

and if it hadn't got started - and I can categorically say it -

my daughter tried to take her own life

and she wouldn't be here. She would not be here,

only that I knew the experience and I knew who to turn to

and I knew that she had to be watched.

And she's now mother to three children.

And what age was she, whenever that happened? She was 19. Yeah.

In some ways, maybe, people living in a city think

that you know everybody in a rural community,

nobody locks their door and everybody can just pop in. Yes.

And, again, that's the picture perfect.

But what goes with that is everybody can know your business.

SHE LAUGHS

So there is pros for it, in that everybody can feel connected,

but if you're quite a private person,

it can feel quite suffocating.

Realising that life is worth living.

That's really for children and for schools

and for parents, for everybody,

to realise that...talking about it doesn't make suicide happen.

It's the complete opposite. By talking about how you get help

before you reach the point where you think you've got nobody left

that can help you, that's where all the vital work comes.

We've had over 25,000 people through our classes.

Our counselling service set up in December 2016

because our local GP, the waiting list was one to two years.

And initially, we just took their waiting list,

and once we had it at a manageable level,

then we discovered that, actually, younger people was a huge issue.

And we've now to date seen over 620 people

from 48 different towns and villages.

We counsel the five days week and the five evenings a week

and we still have a waiting list.

What astonishes me is the huge number of people

that have used the counselling service, so the demand is there,

but you've done that yourselves,

just through raising money in the local community.

You haven't had any government support up to this point. No.

Well, people have fundraised for us, and that's what keeps us going.

I feel Draperstown now own STEPS.

Like, STEPS, the community actually took ownership of it,

and that's what makes it so successful -

because it matters to everybody.

STEPS has transformed local attitudes

to suicide and mental health,

when 15 years ago, it was barely even talked about.

I can relate to that. It's difficult for families to deal with the shock,

let alone the grief.

I love coming up in here, just to see them all. Mmm.

The focus there, or the...focus about here,

and then just concentrating on that. Warrior ethos. Incredible.

I know, it's funny cos the 20 years...

It's the 20th anniversary now of Iraq.

Yeah. That was really the first big gig he did, wasn't it, really?

I don't know why that one always kind of strikes me.

Which one's that?

Oh, yeah. Oh, it's a very memorable photograph,

but it's really unusual as well.

Well, you notice, he was always focusing on the eyes.

Yeah, definitely. ..and that one there is a big example of it. Yeah.

And they say the eye is the mirror of the soul. Yeah.

So he was looking right inside people.

This, I think, is the main problem Richard had.

He had witnessed so much of man's inhumanity to man,

whether it was natural disasters like the Pakistani earthquake

or Mugabe in Zimbabwe or the carry-on in the Middle East,

in Afghanistan and what have you.

I mean, he saw the worst of human nature.

I'm quite convinced he was suffering from PTSD.

Without a shadow of a doubt. Cos I don't think anybody... Absolutely.

..was aware of that. There's two things you ask yourself.

One is, "Why?"

Why did this happen?

Why did he do this?

And the second is...

.."What if?"

It's 15 years, nearly, since Richard took his own life.

And in that time, I still haven't got over the shock.

Does it still kind of catch you that, you know,

that he died through suicide, by suicide?

Do you still have days? Oh, yes. Because it does me.

I definitely go and can't - still can't - quite believe it. Yeah.

Things that you remember and you recall

and you hold on to them because those are dear,

those are happy moments.

You know, there are sad moments as well

that you regret.

But you try to forget about them.

You know, the "What if?" and the "Why" are the two kind of questions.

And I suppose that's the same for anybody

who's lost a family member through suicide.

I just wonder, you know, do you ever talk to anybody about that?

Or how have you kind of got through the last 15 years?

Cos it doesn't seem that we talk about it that much.

We talk about HIM a lot,

but we don't talk about the circumstances very much.

No, well, I mean, I...

If somebody wants to talk to me, they can talk to me.

I haven't been known to be short of conversation,

but I leave people to get on with it and to do their own thing.

You know, you watch and you see and everybody seems to manage.

You all seem to be extremely stable and well-adjusted.

Finn's the one I worry about, because the trauma that he had

as a very young boy...

HE CLEARS THROAT

Pardon me.

I had to tell him, I was the one who told him about his father dying.

I mean, I still worry and I worry about him over now and still,

because, then, eight years later,

his mum dies from cancer of the pancreas.

You know, what has the boy got?

These are traumas that are very, very difficult to handle.

That's the really difficult thing, isn't it,

to try to kind of steer somebody who's been through all that trauma?

But even the little girl in the white dress,

you know, in the midst of the conflict and the war,

and that little moment... I was about to say that, you know,

it's bound to have affected him.

But he never said... He never complained.

He never said anything.

And that's the "What if?" What if he had have said, you know? I know.

Just a pity, a life cut off so short... Yeah.

..what he could have done, what he could have been.

Again, what if? Yeah.

Something to be proud of.

I'm proud of it. Yeah. Me too.

So do you think you've got everything you need?

Or have you got a few bits and pieces that you'll need to get?

For...Zimbabwe? Yeah.

Despite everything Finn has had to deal with, he's well-grounded.

And in many ways, my nephew is just an average 20-year-old.

INDISTINCT CONVERSATION

And do you look at his photos much?

Of course. Erm...

I obviously go to the gallery quite a lot

and I see the photos there, and I like...

Sometimes when my friends come over, I like to show them that,

cos even though it's not my own work, I'm proud of it, even -

going, "That's my dad's work."

And everyone's, like, always the same thing - like, "Wow!"

"It's amazing." And...

And it's kind of shocking to be like, "Wow, that's amazing!"

when you're seeing photos of pain and death

and just...nothing really nice,

but it's still really powerful, you know,

and you can understand how great those images are.

Yeah, cos I always remember, particularly after he died,

there were a lot of people from those countries,

fixers and people who'd been drivers

and, you know, you go on those assignments and people...

You get to know people

and you build up really big relationships with them,

cos it's quite an intense experience.

And getting so many letters.

You know, Grandma and Grandad got so many letters from people

just saying how much fun he was and how...

And is that...? What's that like for you,

when you hear people talk about him like that?

I mean, it's nice to know that he had an effect on people.

It's a bit...

..bad, though, that I didn't get to see what that was like, you know?

Cos I missed out on having my dad there,

and everyone that knows about him and has told me about him,

there's loads of stories - I mean, countless,

and they're all funny ones,

or "He did this, he did that" - and I'm thinking, like,

"I missed out on that."

And...so it's nice to know that they do all have these things,

but it's a little bit...

..thinking about it more as, like, "Well, I could have had that too,

"but I don't have any stories like that that I could tell."

I wish I could.

And is that annoying sometimes?

Do you want people not to tell...? You know, do you sort of think,

you know, "Stop telling me those stories"?

Cos I think probably from even a family point of view,

you tend to talk about people who are no longer with us

because you want to keep their memory alive... Of course. ..but then you don't have that.

We probably got more of that, or we obviously got more of that,

than you did. Well...

It's more that...

I'd like to contribute sometimes, and I can't.

You know? And the stories I do have are the same ones,

and it's just like recycling them over and over.

It's like... I don't know.

And it's nice to hear the stories,

cos it gives me more of an insight to the man who my father was.

But...

..it is upsetting that I can't contribute to those conversations

and give my own stories.

For his own reasons, Finn is making the trip with me to Zimbabwe.

Is there anything about the trip that you're worried about

or feel a bit apprehensive about?

I'm... I'm really curious.

I hope I can, in some way, find a connection

and get a better understanding of him,

just so I can feel a bit more closer to him.

It'd be nice cos, I mean, it's been a long time, like, so...

And it's not been easy over those times,

but I'd like to know more of who he was and see what he saw.

PHONE RINGS

CCIS. Tom speaking.

Yeah. How are you getting on tonight?

OK.

Is there anything in particular going on that's making you feel like that, or...?

Outside of Belfast, the north-west has one of the highest suicide rates

in Northern Ireland.

The city's Community Crisis Intervention Service

is literally a lifeline for people in distress,

dealing with almost 1,700 cases a year.

Sometimes when people are in that moment of suicide,

they can't remember about their relatives, their friends,

everybody that cares about them. They can't see the bigger picture.

And that's very important in that initial moment, to make that link.

What sort of age ranges have you seen?

SIGHS

It just depends.

In different areas, it just...

There's just pockets of different things.

So, children to pensioners - is that what you're saying? Yeah.

PHONE RINGS

CCIS. Tom speaking.

Hey. How's it going?

Do you think... Is that the most important thing - to listen?

100%, yeah.

But it's all about, you know, taking people

one individual at a time and trying to do your best

to let them see that there's more to life

than the things that are holding them back.

And what's your plan for this evening?

You have one?

There's all different techniques for them to know

that you're listening to them,

but I think sometimes the biggest thing is just having somebody

at the end of the phone to hear their story.

It can be tricky. It just depends, cos you're kind of risk assessing

while they're on the phone.

Yeah.

Are you working tomorrow?

No? OK.

It's about distraction as well.

They just need distracted for 15, 20 minutes

from what's going on in their own mind.

And sometimes that distraction can be all that they need to do

to make them feel a wee bit better.

And if you want to maybe give us a wee ring back, you know,

we're here to 12.

OK. You know how to ring us,

and if you want to give us a ring back, we'll be here.

I'm here all weekend, OK?

All right. Take care of yourself and maybe talk to you later. Bye.

That was remarkable, really, Tom,

to kind of listen in to that side of the conversation.

Your voice was very low. It was very calm.

You said very little, but you were quite specific about

just trying to keep the person focused on something and...

Everybody's different.

And...you tend to find a pace with them.

That's it.

You know, if somebody's got a lot going on or is saying a lot,

you just have to listen and make sure that, you know,

when they do maybe take a break,

that you have got all the sort of main points,

maybe recite them back to them

to make sure that you're on the same page... Mm-hm.

..and what it is that you think they're looking for from the call,

or what do you think that they maybe need to do?

The thing that struck me most, though, was that you were listening.

It's the nature of the role, to listen.

It's the most important thing you can do.

And it can be life-saving.

Yeah, 100%.

It is life-saving. It's been proven to do it.

You know, we know for a fact the amount of people that,

you know, we've supported throughout the years,

other organisations throughout this region,

and it... it is life-saving. That's a fact.

Leave them going off the call

feeling as if they got what they wanted,

they got to help or the support that they needed

that they maybe weren't going to get anywhere else.

And also that if they do need to phone back,

that you can take another call. Yeah.

Yeah.

And, Sarah, is that import...

PHONE RINGS

CCIS. Tom speaking.

I think I found it pretty intense, actually,

watching and hearing how they handled the calls

and how quiet and calm and gentle they were with people who phoned in

and just how good they are at what they do.

And I just wonder, for all those people that were in crisis,

the people that phone in to this nondescript building in Derry,

what would happen if there weren't people here listening?

Richard was lucky to work alongside some of the best

and most respected foreign reporters.

I've kept in touch with some of them over the years,

but I've never sat down with them to discuss Richard's death

and how it impacted them.

Tara! Hello! How are you?

Great to see you. So good to see you. Come in.

Thanks a million.

This was... Oh, gosh! ..in 2007, and we had gone out to Zimbabwe.

It was in a terrible, terrible economic mess.

He was fantastic to work with.

First of all, he was a great photographer.

Secondly, he had this extraordinary ability to connect with people,

with whoever he was photographing, which was really useful for me

because he had this ability to put people at ease.

We were in Somalia, which was a pretty dicey place to be.

The Islamic Courts had just taken over,

and they have this militant wing called the Shabab

who are real fundamentalists.

And we went out to one of their training camps -

I mean, now, you wouldn't dare do this because, you know,

they're a bit like Isis,

they would as soon cut your head off as look at you -

and we end up playing a football game against them,

Richard's instigation.

That's what he did. He just made friends with people, disarmed them.

I was just thinking that

one of his better known photos is of that young al-Shabab soldier

staring down the barrel of a gun.

Do you know the one I mean? Yeah, yeah, I know exactly.

And that was a classic Richard.

You know, to be able to connect in the way he did

with a young militant Islamist fundamentalist soldier

and get him to pose like that, it was extraordinary.

You don't think when you see the photo of what went into it.

Really, he had to win his confidence and his cooperation.

Yeah, trust... It was a great talent.

One other thing, though, is he did get very close to the people

we were photographing, people we were writing about.

You know, I think he felt their pain.

And clearly, in the case of Sarudzai Gumbo, he felt their pain.

Sarudzai, the young girl in Zimbabwe in that photo.

Over the years, I've longed to know more about her.

Took the hat off, and we saw this, which was a six-year-old girl

with lesions all over her head.

I mean, she was in a terrible way. She could barely open her eyes.

And her name was Sarudzai Gumbo.

Both parents were HIV-positive.

Sarudzai was HIV-positive.

They had no money for medicine, barely any money for food,

and she was clearly dying.

So we ran this story -

"Portrait of Zimbabwe", the face of Mugabe's Zimbabwe -

and it had a huge impact back here.

The paper's readers were so shocked by the image,

they sent in money to help with her care.

We went back that December, so nine months later,

and we found Sarudzai...

In fact, I can show you.

We found her in a hospital which had been abandoned...

..by her doctors, by the doctors and nurses,

because they weren't being paid.

We found her sitting in this side room, forgotten, neglected.

She hadn't been washed.

She was in an even worse state than before.

No-one was looking after her.

And Richard brought her these, if you can see, two teddy bears,

which she just embraced.

And we literally picked her up and walked her out of the hospital.

And no-one stopped us. There was no-one there to stop us.

And we managed to get her admitted to a private clinic.

And that's where we left her.

She was cleaned up. She was getting fed properly.

She was being looked after and loved.

But it was too late. She...

She died a few days later.

Such a waste! She didn't have to die.

You know, I still feel bad that we were unable to save her.

You can't just walk away from something like that.

And that was what Richard was so good at.

You know, he never... He never forgot these people.

He... He would stay in touch.

He cared about them - you could argue too much.

Quite hard for you, doing this, is it?

Yeah, no, it's funny, cos I sort of have a sense of...

I think it's just because I've just turned my head into work mode,

so I've gone into work mode - cos I felt that last week as well.

So... Maybe you're doing what Richard did.

LAUGHS

I know!

You're treating it objectively... Yeah.

..in a way that he rarely could. Yeah.

I mean, I was... I was telling a friend for the first time

about the documentary yesterday who was very close to Richard,

and she immediately welled up and started to cry.

And I was telling her in such a kind of matter of fact way,

I thought, "Gosh!" I've obviously thought about this so much

and, you know, considered the film and all that goes along with it,

but I think, you know, you can forget that the ripple effect

of what happened and so many people, cos I'm sure there are days

that it still catches you and you think about it.

Well, it's the thing about suicide, isn't it? You always feel guilty.

You know, the people you leave behind feel guilty.

You feel you should have spotted it, you should have known.

But you can't. Yeah.

And, you know, we're no different than anybody else

who's lost someone through suicide.

But as I say, you sort of almost have to not go down that avenue

because you would drive yourself... I know. ..insane,

and the what-ifs and the whys and the...

It's... You know, you have to kind of not think along those lines.

I think finding out a little bit more about the assignments

and the stories and the connection that Richard had with Zimbabwe,

and obviously the impact that particularly that little girl had

on both him and Martin,

it kind of makes me want to explore a little bit more.

Zimbabwe for me has only ever meant one thing.

Every time I hear it mentioned, every time I read it in a newspaper,

I can only think of my brother dying there.

So I'm hoping the trip will change that,

but I'm naturally anxious about the impact on me and on Finn.

It has not been a decision that we've reached easily or lightly.

I've thought long and hard over many months

about whether it's a good idea.

And I think maybe even two years ago,

when he was 18 and just finishing school

and finishing his A-levels, that wouldn't have been the right time.

But I think he's had a little bit more time

and a little less pressure from education, if you like, on him

that he's started to think a little bit more about his dad

and what he did, what his job was, the places that he travelled,

and he hasn't really travelled that much in the last number of years

since his mum died...

..so I think that's quite a good opportunity

to share that experience with him,

so I feel really lucky and privileged in that way.

ARCHIVE: In what was once one of the richest countries in Africa,

people are dying for want of food, medicine, water, everything.

And if they complain, they're beaten.

In 2000, President Mugabe's regime had implemented

a brutal land reform policy.

Marred by violence, it forced many to leave the country.

By 2008, 80% of the population was unemployed,

starvation was widespread, the economy was in ruins.

Inflation was at a staggering 100,000%.

It's little wonder Richard visited here many times

to report on a country in turmoil.

Things have improved since 2008, but not by much.

It's an election year, so tensions are running high.

Foreign journalists are unwelcome, so we have travelled as tourists.

On his very last assignment, Richard spent time with Ben Freeth,

a high-profile critic of Mugabe

and a target for harassment and abduction.

There's no farmers able to farm, and we've got total anarchy,

we've got lawlessness.

Our farm workers get beaten, some of them with fractured skulls,

some of them with broken feet.

Hello there! Hello, Tara.

Oh, so nice to meet you. We've heard so much about you. Finn.

Yeah. Yeah. This is Richard's son, Finn.

Hiya. Nice to meet you. Finn, lovely to meet you.

I've never met Ben before,

and he was one of the last people to see Richard alive.

We had total chaos in the land.

You know, we had people just getting beaten up, homes being invaded.

You know, we couldn't defend ourselves in any way.

The police weren't able to defend us.

And in fact, they were orchestrating it all.

And then we got abducted and tortured.

And it was... It was a really tough time.

And your brother stayed with us a little bit,

and then he went and stayed with some friends of mine

cos we didn't want him to be staying too long at each place,

because otherwise the secret police would have caught up with him.

He came to us on a Sunday...

..and my wife, Laura, cooked a roast chicken and we had a Sunday roast,

with roast potatoes and all the trimmings and everything,

and we had a great conversation.

And then I can remember sitting outside on the veranda

and then, you know, our kids were mad keen on rugby and stuff

and he was teaching them how to play rugby.

And he was...you know, playing and I was watching -

you know, cos I'd been really badly beaten up

a couple of weeks before.

And so I had a bandage and I had a fractured skull

and things like that, and I was longing to join in...

THEY LAUGH

..but I knew that I wasn't in a fit state to do so.

But, yeah, your dad was out there and just having such fun, you know?

And yesterday, I spoke to Lena Creamer,

who he was staying with the night before, and...

And he had written in the visitor's book that morning.

I just got... She sent a photograph of it.

Erm...

I'm myself getting quite emotional.

Erm... So that's your dad's writing.

And he wrote in the visitor's book...

"Richard Mills.

"Bertie and Lena, many thanks for letting us see

"a very special part of Zimbabwe.

"Your hospitality has been fantastic and very much appreciated.

"I hope someday to meet you and your family and friends

"at a braai..." So, a braii is a barbecue.

"..over a braii when times are better and...

"..we have better stories to share. Stay safe.

"God bless."

That was probably the last thing he ever wrote.

You know, it's amazing.

That was...that morning, that was that Sunday morning

before he came to have a lunch with us.

It must've been hard for you growing up...

Yeah. I found out that he died

a while after he actually had passed away. My grandad told me.

But it wasn't until I was maybe nine or ten

that my mum told me that he took his own life,

and that was almost like being told he died over again.

It hurt a lot.

And what went through your head?

I just... I couldn't believe it because, I mean, at the time,

I was young and I just thought, what had I done? You know?

So... You blamed yourself? Partly.

It pains me cos I always wanted to have a dad. Sure.

And, I mean, my mum did a great job of playing the role

of my dad as well.

But...

No, it's annoying because so many kids do grow up without dads,

and it's...

I don't know, it's just...

It'd be nice to know what it was like, to have that growing up. Yeah.

And I think your dad had a heart for things.

People were able to relate to the work that he did,

and that, at the end of the day, is,

you know, one of the most important things in life - you know,

to have a heart for each other.

You know, that is... That's what life's about, really, isn't it?

You know? And your dad had that heart.

THEY LAUGH

But isn't it great that you've been able to come out here...

Oh, 100%. ..with Tara and just...?

I've always wanted to come out to Zimbabwe, to see what he saw,

especially in his final days.

And I know he had such a love for Zimbabwe, and I can see why.

I mean, it's a beautiful country and I want to come back again.

I'd love to come see it... I'd like to come see it

hopefully when there are better days, to come see Zimbabwe.

Yeah, well, you can...

You can come in your dad's stead and have a braii.

THEY LAUGH

Exactly. Have a braii! Yeah.

I like the beers here as well, so... THEY LAUGH

You're obviously a true Irishman. THEY LAUGH

Finn and I are travelling to the remote village of Karonga,

the birthplace and final resting place of the girl

in the photo, Sarudzai.

We're meeting a close friend of Richard's

who helped with this story.

Hello! Hello.

It's so nice to meet you. Nice to meet you. Oh, I'll give a hug.

And this is Finn. Hiya. Hey! Nice to meet you.

SHE CRIES

Thank you. Thank you.

Are you OK? Yeah.

Thank you so much for coming and meeting us, Tressie. You're welcome.

We're really, really...

We've heard so much about you. And it's lovely to meet you.

Does he remind you of Richard? Yes.

You can see the resemblance? Yes. The resemblance in the height.

Yeah, yeah.

THEY LAUGH

Very same personalities too. Yes, yes.

The difference is the earrings.

THEY LAUGH

Yeah, he didn't... Richard didn't have those. Yeah, yeah, yeah!

What do you remember about him?

I do remember Richard...

..of his kindness.

He was so sweet.

Very kind, very loving.

Yeah. He loved it here. He loved it. Yes.

Yeah, he loved people. He loved people. He loved everyone.

But it was difficult, challenging times as well.

He was here when things were very tough.

Yes, he was there in 2008. Yeah. It was very tough.

But he was here, working with us.

It was hard to find out what had happened, I would imagine?

It was painful. Yeah. It was.

It was a surprise, because Father Winter came to my house

and started praying before he read us the message.

And I said, "What?! I was with him last night."

I have to be emotional because I didn't see him,

he loves his son...

THEY LAUGH

Oh, yeah, yeah, he loved his son.

There's no doubt about that. Always... Yes.

I pray for him every day.

Oh, my goodness.

Thank you for doing that. That's so lovely.

Cos he covered so many conflicts in so many different countries,

but her story was the one that definitely impacted him most.

Yes, yes, yes...

That's the graveyard for...the auntie.

Oh, the auntie? OK. Yes, they share the name.

But this is the little girl? This is for Sarudzai. Oh...

SINGING

Been nice meeting everyone that have known my dad, even 15 years on.

Like, seeing how Ben was getting choked up reading that letter,

and then when Tressie first saw me, and it's just like she latched on

and didn't let go. It felt so natural.

Once we spoke to Tressie and Ben, I was completely taken aback

by their reaction.

And I think there are two ways of looking at that.

One is that he made a real impact on them.

But also, I suppose, after it happened,

it was probably such a shock to them.

They probably remember it in as much detail as we do,

but they've never had an outlet for that.

So, that was probably the first time they had had to express

some of the grief that they felt 15 years ago.

And for it to be so quick and instant, really, with both of them,

that's... that'll never leave me. I'll always take that away.

SINGING

It was refreshing.

It meant a lot.

And I could tell that it was... It was more than just,

you know, a guy who went over to take photos.

It was someone who really made a connection with these people.

It was... Oh, it was quite beautiful, really.

SINGING

I had to do this trip, and I think if I didn't, I'd be

almost a bit cowardly. This is something that...

It was almost like a rite of passage, almost. I had to come here.

I felt so disconnected from him my whole kind of life

because I was young.

But, no, it has been an emotional journey,

but I know that I needed to do this and I'm glad I have done it now.

I think meeting the people that he met,

I think coming here and kind of seeing what it's like

and just having...

Just having a better understanding...

..but still really wishing he hadn't ever come.

And I suppose it's just to say to people, just don't do it.

Just take a minute. Take a minute.

Talk to somebody. Lift the phone.

Go... You know, go make a cup of tea, a cup of coffee.

Just do something. Take a minute,

and don't do it, because...

..the impact on everybody, particularly Finn -

you know, anybody that has children, don't think

that they'll be better off for you because they absolutely won't.

That is just a lie. That is just not true.

And I don't know how we kind of get to the stage

where that message gets across.

If this helps somebody, I hope somebody listens. I really do.

It's a pretty unbelievable end to an unbelievable trip.

That's an understatement! This is out of this world.

It's jaw-dropping, this view.

And do you think we kind of set out what you hoped to achieve

and connect more with your dad?

Oh, 100%, yeah.

This is...

..probably the best experience I've had in my life.

And I certainly feel closer to my dad now.

I needed this.

I love you, sweetheart. Love you, too.

Across Northern Ireland, suicide rates remain stubbornly high.

For the past 14 years,

Alfie has run a Facebook site offering help and support

for those in crisis.

He's done it anonymously -

one man's efforts to make a difference.

The two of us have been through the same bereavement

of losing loved ones.

And I keep asking... People keep asking me,

"How does other people deal with it?"

How do you deal with it?

I know, but I suppose it's...

I mean, you know, my career is asking people

questions about things like that.

You know, I talked to you after Alfred died,

and I suppose it's a bit of, if I'm expecting people to do that,

I should be able to answer those questions as well,

and I think that was the motivation.

You know, your motivation has been the Facebook page

and to talk to people and help people.

And I've probably been very quiet about it,

particularly while my children were young and while my nephew was young.

But I suppose now that they're all kind of growing up a bit,

it feels the right time to look at it

and just to see, is there anything else that I can do?

Is there something you can do? Is there something we can do?

But on a personal view between the two of us

and living through it, it's... you're still a human being,

you still have the feeling.

I still go through the emotions of Alfred,

which I'm going through now with my granddaughter.

Every time you would go to a door and ask about a suicide,

it's bound to bring emotions back about your loved one that you lost.

But I think it's... You know, when I heard about your granddaughter,

it just knocked me for six, you know -

the thought of you having to go through that again

with such a young child.

And every time... You know, I have friends who have lost people

through suicide, you know, around the time that my brother died

and since, and every time, just - you must be the same -

it just gets you right in the pit of your stomach, cos you know

what's ahead and what's facing them and how difficult it is.

My whole motivation is - and I'll say it again, like a broken record -

I don't want any family to go down the road

that your family and my family have went down.

Alfred's not coming back. But if I stop somebody going where Alfred is,

it'll make me feel as if I've done something for someone.

Hello! Come on in.

It's 15 years since Richard died, and we have decided to host

an exhibition of his work for some family and friends.

I think that could go... These are the top maybes.

Oh, really? I like that one. So do I.

What one is he talking about? Let me see the ones you're taking away!

Oi! Let me see the ones you're taking away.

Oh, that has to go in. That's the newest.

Despite everything we've been through, I feel fortunate

that I've been able to learn more about my brother

all these years after his death.

And I'm grateful that Finn has been able to do the same.

I appreciate not every family is in the same position.

Happy? Yep.

Such a kind of cross-section of all the people involved in our lives

that have kind of come here tonight and shared something,

and it does feel like the first time we've been able

to celebrate his life and his work. And to do that with Finn here,

front and centre, you know, he has this big network

that's connected to his dad, it's just been...

it's just been really lovely.

If he was still with us, he'd still be out there

taking all these images.

Nothing ever changes.

We never learn. And Richard captured all of that brilliantly.

And we look at that human suffering,

and yet it goes on and it will continue to go on.

And I have a funny feeling that's maybe what affected Richard as well,

that he knew, "Nothing's gonna change."

For men over here anyway, you know, it happens too often.

I mean, losing a father or mother at a young age is terrible.

And if it's down to something that we can prevent -

like mental health purposes, which we can prevent -

we need to do everything that we can to prevent it.

You know, I don't want another child to have the kind of pain

that I did growing up, because it's no way to grow up, you know?