The Last Supper Project: one man’s heartfelt farewell to life through food and connection

The Last Supper, an intimate project aimed at fostering connections through shared meals before one man’s assisted death later this year. Picture: fauxels /Pexels

The Last Supper, an intimate project aimed at fostering connections through shared meals before one man’s assisted death later this year. Picture: fauxels /Pexels

Published 15h ago

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In a world where mental illness is still misunderstood, where pain is often measured in visible wounds rather than invisible battles, one man is choosing to say goodbye on his own terms.

Joseph Nana Kwame Awuah-Darko, known affectionately as Okuntakinte on social media, has made a heartbreaking decision.

After years of struggling with treatment-resistant bipolar disorder, he has chosen to pursue assisted euthanasia in the Netherlands. His request was approved after four years.

Joseph Nana Kwame Awuah-Darko, known affectionately as Okuntakinte . Picture: Instagram

But before he leaves, he wants to connect one last time with strangers, with friends and with anyone willing to share a meal and conversation.

His project, The Last Supper, is a deeply personal yet profoundly universal journey. Through intimate dinners, he seeks to create moments of warmth, understanding, and human connection before his time runs out.

He put The Last Supper call out on social media and thousands of strangers put their hands up to cook for him before he legally ends his life.

The date has been set for July 30, 2025, when Okuntakinte will take his final steps in the Netherlands for non-violent assisted death.

But before that day comes, he will continue to sit at tables filled with laughter, stories, and warmth. He will continue to remind us that even in the darkest moments, human connection matters.

“Two days ago, I announced my decision to legally end my life”

On December 9, 2024,  Okuntakinte took to Instagram and shared a message that shook thousands.

He wrote: “Two days ago, I announced my decision to legally end my life due to my struggles with treatment-resistant bipolar disorder.”

His words were raw, unfiltered and painfully honest. Mental illness had stolen so much from him his sense of self, his ability to find joy, even his relationship.

“And now my fiancé has left me. And I don’t blame him. We’re still friends, but the pain is still quite real.”

Love, even at its most profound, can sometimes feel like too much to hold when you’re already carrying the weight of an unbearable illness.

Treatment-resistant bipolar disorder

Bipolar disorder is a complex, often misunderstood illness marked by extreme mood swings episodes of mania (intense highs) and depression crippling lows).

While many find relief through therapy and medication, treatment-resistant bipolar disorder means that no available treatment works.

For those living with it, every day can feel like a battle they are doomed to lose. This is a reality that many don’t understand especially in a society where mental health is still heavily stigmatised.

But Okuntakinte is not the only one facing this pain. In Canada, where medical assistance in death (MAID) has been expanded to include mental illness, over 13,000 people chose to end their suffering legally in 2022 alone.

The Last Supper

Despite the unbearable weight of his illness, Okuntakinte is not withdrawing in isolation. Instead, he is reaching out.

“I’m healing, and I’m trying to connect in a different way. Even as I pursue my path with assisted euthanasia.”

His initiative, The Last Supper Project, is inspired by the Harvard Study of Adult Development, which found that strong relationships and community are the greatest predictors of happiness.

Okuntakinte is inviting strangers to share a meal with him, to exchange stories, to simply exist together in a space free of judgement.

“For the next few months, I’d like anyone who is willing to invite me over to prepare their favourite meal for dinner. We’ll break bread with friends and loved ones, and I’ll bring post-its, board games, origami, and fellowship with no judgment.”

This is not about saying goodbye in sorrow. It’s about celebrating human connection while he is still here.

“Everyone’s pain is valid”

One of the most profound moments of Okuntakinte’s journey came when he reflected on society’s tendency to compare suffering.

“I see many people asking, ‘What about kids with terminal diseases? What about people in war-torn countries?’ But suffering is not a competition.”

We live in a world where people often invalidate mental pain because it is invisible.

But Okuntakinte reminds us: “You don’t have to be fighting civil unrest in the DRC. You don’t have to be working in a sweatshop to feel suffering.

"Pain is relative. And just because someone looks “healthy” on the outside does not mean they are not hurting beyond words.”

A final journey through love and food

Okuntakinte’s dinners have become a sacred space where strangers become friends, where silence is just as meaningful as words, and where food nourishes both body and soul.

At Dinner 40, he shared a meal with a group of South Indian, Dutch, and Surinamese friends.

“The food was incredibly homely and thought through: Surinamese Roti and South Indian curry stew. The nourishment we enjoyed almost felt spiritual.”

Each dinner is a moment of reflection, of deep human connection.

“Everyone at the table held space for my struggle with bipolar disorder and the strain of feeling overwhelmed by what my life has become through all these last suppers.”

The weight of these conversations, of hearing others’ pain while carrying his own, is immense. Yet, he continues because these moments matter.

In South Africa, mental health care is underfunded and stigmatised, stories like Okuntakinte’s are rare. Many suffer in silence, unable to access proper treatment or fearing judgment.

The South African Depression and Anxiety Group (SADAG) estimates that one in three South Africans will experience mental illness in their lifetime. Yet, only a fraction will receive proper care.

Okuntakinte‘s journey is a wake-up call. It forces us to ask:

  • Why do we still struggle to talk about mental illness openly?
  • Why do we dismiss invisible suffering as “not serious enough”?
  • How many people in South Africa feel the same way  Okuntakinte does but have no one to talk to?

On July 30, 2025, Okuntakinte will take his final steps in the Netherlands, where his request for non-violent assisted death has been approved after four years.

But before that day comes, he will continue to sit at tables filled with laughter, stories, and warmth. He will continue to remind us that even in the darkest moments, human connection matters.

His story is not just about death it’s about what it means to truly live.

As people, we must learn from his journey. We must break the silence around mental health. We must create spaces where people feel seen, heard, and understood.

Because in the end, all anyone really wants is to be held in love before they go.

If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health, please reach out to:

📞 SADAG 24-hour Suicide Crisis Helpline: 0800 567 567

📱 SMS 31393 for free mental health support

💻 www.sadag.org

Let’s start the conversation. Let’s hold space for one another. Let’s make sure no one feels alone in their battle. ❤️