Millennials born in the 1990s were raised on a promise, that if they did everything right, they would be rewarded. Get the degree. Work hard. Stay out of trouble. The system, they were told, would take care of the rest. But now, in their late 20s and 30s, many are quietly asking:
Was that promise ever real or were we just the test subjects of a broken system no one wanted to admit was collapsing?
They did what was asked of them. They showed up. They borrowed for school, fought for jobs, climbed ladders, and stayed “professional.” But while they were playing by the rules, the rules were being rewritten, silently and without consent. Wages flatlined. Housing became a luxury. Stability turned into a privilege. And the dream of “making it” began to look more like survival with a side of burnout.
It’s not just frustrating. It’s disorienting. And behind the curated social media posts and professional smiles, many millennials are wrestling with deeper questions:
- Why does it feel like we’re working harder than ever but falling further behind?
- Who actually benefits from this system and who’s just being kept busy inside it?
- Is the pursuit of “success” just a distraction from the fact that real wealth was never meant to be shared?
- What if we were not ungrateful or entitled but just awake now?
- Are we simply blaming ourselves for a crisis engineered by those who control the rules?
- Is the obsession with “hustle” a form of consent to exploitation disguised as ambition?
- How much of our “freedom” is just an illusion sold to us by marketing and media?
These aren’t easy questions. But they need to be asked.
Because maybe the truth is this: the life many millennials dreamt of, house, kids, comfort, options, was always dependent on a set of conditions that no longer exist. Maybe it was only possible for a small percentage of people to begin with. Maybe the rest of us were expected to chase the illusion, not reach it.
And yet, even in the midst of disillusionment, many millennials are engaged in a silent battle, a quiet struggle to reconcile the expectations they were raised with against the reality they face today. They aren’t loudly rejecting hustle culture or proclaiming rebellion, but privately questioning what success means to them now. Many wrestle with the tension between wanting stability and craving meaning, between societal pressures and personal wellbeing.
They’re quietly reimagining what a good life looks like, even if that means stepping back from traditional markers of achievement. Choosing mental health over promotion. Seeking fulfilment in experiences rather than possessions. Navigating the difficult space between gratitude for what they have and grief for what was promised but never delivered.
There’s no grand uprising, just a collective, often unspoken, effort to find peace in a world that feels increasingly uncertain. A negotiation between dreams and reality, hopes and limits.
It’s not about giving up. It’s about waking up, waking up to the fact that chasing a dream designed in a different era, under different rules, might not be the path forward. And maybe, just maybe, there’s more courage in quietly redefining success on one’s own terms than in clinging to an old script that was never written for everyone.
The question now isn’t “how do we get back on track?”
It’s: “What if the track was never leading where we needed to go in the first place?”
Khumbo 
What do you think?