Side hustles and sleepless nights: Kenya’s culture of overwork
By Faith Lagat, July 27, 2025=In Kenya, the phrase ‘maisha ni kujikaza‘ —life is about hustling hard—has become a mantra for survival.
From selling thrifted clothes online to managing boda-boda partnerships via WhatsApp, side hustles are not just common but essential.
They reflect the country’s deeply entrenched culture of ingenuity and grit in the face of economic adversity. But beneath this celebrated entrepreneurial spirit lies a quieter, more troubling reality: a generation running on empty, juggling multiple jobs, sacrificing rest, and quietly burning out.
Hustle culture is no longer a buzzword; it is a default mode of existence. Fuelled by high unemployment, a rising cost of living, and social pressure to succeed, many Kenyans have embraced side gigs as both a lifeline and a badge of ambition. Yet this glorified overwork is taking a toll on mental and physical well-being—a price too many are paying in silence.
Economic necessity or systemic failure
Kenya’s youth are some of the hardest hit by economic uncertainty. A 2024 GeoPoll survey found that 71 percent of employed youth aged 18–35 have side hustles, with nearly half earning less than Ksh 30,000 per month.
The Kenya National Bureau of Statistics reported that more than 60 percent of young adults in urban areas juggle at least one side hustle alongside formal jobs or studies. The 2024 Old Mutual Financial Services Monitor showed that 47 percent of working-class Kenyans rely on side gigs as their main source of income.
This isn’t simply a sign of ambition—it’s a survival strategy. With stagnant wages and new deductions like the Affordable Housing Levy and the Social Health Insurance Fund chipping away at salaries, Kenyans are forced to get creative. In Rongai, for instance, a young man earns Ksh 400 to 700 daily by managing boda-boda riders through WhatsApp. Others flip mitumba on TikTok or sell handmade crafts on Instagram, turning digital platforms into makeshift marketplaces.
These stories are a testament to resilience, but they also raise uncomfortable questions. Why are so many citizens scrambling for scraps in a country with a “bottom-up” economic promise? Why are side hustles becoming the norm instead of formal employment with benefits and security?
When hustle becomes harm
The consequences of this culture of constant work are profound. According to the World Health Organisation, burnout—marked by exhaustion, detachment, and reduced productivity—is a growing occupational risk. In Nairobi and beyond, many workers report mental fatigue, sleep deprivation, and health issues tied to overwork.
Women face even greater pressure. A 2022 World Bank report showed that female-headed households, already vulnerable to food insecurity, were forced to adopt extreme coping strategies after the COVID-19 pandemic.
Some turned to exploitative arrangements, including transactional relationships, to make ends meet. Meanwhile, the Kenya Revenue Authority is increasingly cracking down on small online businesses, compounding stress for young digital entrepreneurs.
The popularisation of hustle culture hasn’t occurred in a vacuum. Political rhetoric has played a role. President William Ruto’s “Hustler Nation” and the slogan “Kazi ni Kazi” have romanticised informal labour, promoting the idea that any job—no matter how unstable—is progress. But this narrative risks shifting responsibility from the state to the individual, celebrating grit while ignoring systemic gaps in job creation, wage growth, and social protection.
Social media adds fuel to the fire. Influencers flaunt luxury lifestyles earned through side gigs, subtly pressuring others to chase the same success. But behind the curated posts are long hours, burnout, and sometimes crushing debt. A 2025 Tala survey revealed that nearly 75 percent of Kenyans reduced spending on essentials to fund side hustles, and a third borrowed money just to stay afloat.
Religion, too, plays a role in sustaining this hustle narrative. Neo-Pentecostal churches often preach prosperity through relentless work and faith. While motivational, this theology can place blame on individuals for economic hardship, suggesting their failure is a lack of effort or belief, not systemic inequality.
For the woman selling fruit by the roadside, this message can be both inspiring and crushing.
Rethinking the hustle model
It’s important to acknowledge that side hustles have transformed lives. Freelancers on platforms like Upwork and Fiverr are tapping into global markets, with some earning Ksh 10,000 to 50,000 monthly. Success stories—like Mary Atieno, who turned her eco-friendly packaging side hustle into a business employing five people after receiving a Ksh 500,000 grant—prove that side gigs can blossom into enterprises. But these are the exceptions, not the rule.
For many, lack of capital and access to training remain major hurdles. Seventy-two percent of aspiring entrepreneurs cite insufficient startup funds as their main barrier, while 80 percent of unemployed youth point to a lack of opportunities. This suggests that the hustle culture, while empowering in moments, is not a sustainable substitute for inclusive economic policy.
What’s needed is balance. Kenya must channel the same entrepreneurial energy into long-term policy solutions—from job creation programs and skills training to affordable healthcare and digital infrastructure.
Mental health services should be expanded, and tax systems must be reviewed to avoid overburdening low-income earners. Employers can also contribute by allowing flexible work policies that accommodate side gigs without compromising employee well-being.
Kenya’s youth have proven their creativity and resilience time and again. But they deserve more than applause for their hustle. They deserve systems that support them, wages that dignify them, and a society that values rest as much as productivity. Side hustles may be here to stay, but they shouldn’t come at the cost of our health, dignity, or future.