Running on empty, smiling on cue

 A cultural diagnosis of burnout in the age of hustle and wellness

There’s a fatigue in the air, low-grade but constant. Not the kind a nap or a long weekend can fix. It’s in our DMs, our delayed replies, our group chats that slowly die off, and our eyes as we zone out mid-Zoom. Everyone is tired. But no one’s really saying why.

We joke about it: “Adulting is a scam.” “Capitalism is ghetto," and “Rest is resistance.” But beneath the memes is a deep, gnawing emotional exhaustion. And it’s not just physical burnout. It’s soul-tired. It's waking up and feeling like you're already behind. It’s smiling on cue while feeling like you're running on fumes. In the Kenyan context, hustle is holy. We are bred on stories of people who made it by sheer will. No handouts. Just grit. “Lazy youth” rhetoric is national policy. And so we internalize the grind. Sleep becomes optional. Productivity becomes identity. Globally, the hustle gospel isn’t much different. And now we are mirroring the Western “rise and grind” culture. It’s the same sermon, different pulpit. You are what you produce. Worth measured in outputs. But what happens when you produce and still feel empty?

In trying to survive, we’ve stopped feeling. It’s too risky. Too inefficient. Who has time to process anything when you’re constantly moving? So we coast on autopilot. We ghost our emotions before they ghost us. We text “LOL” without laughing. We smile for selfies we don’t even like. We keep going, but the lights are dimming inside. This emotional disconnection isn’t just burnout, it’s a coping mechanism. Our nervous systems are fried. Our spirits are overstimulated but undernourished. Enter wellness. The curated self-care content. The meditation apps. The green smoothies and ginger shots. The crystals. The bath bombs. The vibe. Don’t get it twisted; some of it helps. But a lot of “wellness” has become another performance. Another checkbox on the to-do list. Another way to optimize ourselves for more productivity. Rest not as healing, but as fuel to keep grinding. Healing not for wholeness, but for high performance. So even our attempts at rest are laced with pressure. We’re tired, but we must rest correctly. We’re healing, but we must heal aesthetically. We’re journaling our trauma in perfect lighting for a Reel. It’s no wonder we're still not okay. This isn’t just individual burnout. It’s cultural. Structural. Systemic. We are tired because:

• The economy is rigged, and “working hard” is no longer a guarantee for stability.

• Social media keeps us in a constant loop of comparison and consumption.

• We are emotionally isolated in hyper-connected digital worlds.

• We’ve lost the communal safety nets that helped people breathe.

• Our value is increasingly tied to how useful we are online, offline, all the time.

It’s not that we’re doing too much. It’s that we’re being too much for too many things that don’t nourish us.

The answer isn’t another productivity hack. It’s a reckoning. We need new metrics for success and more honest conversations about emotional labor. We need to normalize rest without guilt. We need to talk about how tired we are, not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually, and collectively. Maybe it starts with a group chat check-in that goes deeper than “uko aje?” Maybe it’s learning to say “I’m not okay” without feeling like a burden. Maybe it’s asking ourselves, who am I when I’m not performing?

Because this isn’t sustainable. And we know it. We’re running on empty, smiling on cue. And something’s got to give.