The news spread through North Carolina Central University like a wave no one was prepared for. Zyarre Prince, a 20-year-old sophomore with a smile that could fill a room and a fashion sense that turned heads everywhere he went, died by suicide on March 28, 2026. He was from Maryland, but he had made Durham his home, had become a fixture on campus, had already left a mark that would outlast his short time there.
Zyarre was pursuing a degree in criminal justice, but his impact reached far beyond the classroom. During the 2024-2025 academic year, he served as “Mister Freshman,” a title that suited him perfectly. He had recently campaigned for “Mister Junior,” running on the same confidence and authenticity that had made him so beloved.
Students remember him as someone who was always smiling, always dancing, always finding a way to lift the people around him. He had a passion for fashion that was unmistakable, a way of dressing that was entirely his own, and he carried himself with a poise that made others want to be more themselves.
On campus, he was known as a voice among his peers. He connected with people from every background, made them feel seen, made them feel like they mattered. His presence was a reminder that joy and creativity could flourish when someone lived with unapologetic confidence. Chancellor Dr. Karrie G. Dixon acknowledged the loss in a message to the campus, praising Zyarre’s authenticity and the positive energy he brought to every space he entered. Those words echoed what everyone who knew him already felt.
The news of his death hit hard. In the days that followed, students gathered for a candlelight vigil, hundreds of them standing together in the cold, holding light, remembering a young man who had brought so much light to them. They talked about his laugh, his style, the way he could walk into a room and make it feel alive. They talked about the pressure he must have been carrying, the struggles no one could see.
The vigil became more than a memorial. It became a call for something greater. Students spoke about the need for stronger mental health support on campus, for resources that would ensure no one else felt alone in their pain. The university made counseling available, and the conversation that began in the wake of Zyarre’s death has continued, a push for awareness, for care, for the kind of community that catches people before they fall.
Zyarre was 20 years old. He was a son, a friend, a student, a young man who had already made his mark. He was confident and creative, compassionate and kind. He had dreams he was chasing, a future he was building. And he was struggling in ways that no one could see. His death has left a void at NCCU that will not be easily filled. But the conversation it started, the awareness it sparked, the way it brought people together, all of that is part of his legacy.
His family is left to grieve a son taken too soon. His friends are left to navigate a world without his laughter. His classmates are left to carry forward the lessons he taught them about authenticity, about joy, about being unapologetically yourself. Zyarre Prince is gone, but the light he carried, the confidence he wore, the kindness he gave, all of that remains. In the halls of NCCU, in the memories of everyone who knew him, in the conversations about mental health that will continue because of his loss, his spirit lives on.