- Between the desk and the breakdown
By Edith E. AGBELI
There’s a silent war being fought every weekday from 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. across countless offices around the world.
The fluorescent lights, the WhatsApp messages from HR & Admin, from your boss and even your collogues, the “Good Morning” greetings that carry the weight of unspoken tension—this is not just a job. It’s a test of the human spirit.
Contrary to the fantasy many of us held growing up, adulthood doesn’t start at marriage or childbirth—it starts the moment you survive a Monday morning team meeting that feels more like a firing squad than a brainstorming session.
If you’ve ever smiled while your chest burned with anxiety, or cried in a bathroom only to reapply lip gloss and return to your desk—welcome. You’re not alone.
The workplace will teach you lessons no one prepared you for—how to master soft skills in silence, endure emotionally without breaking, and carry grace through chaos.
If you’ve ever wiped your tears in private and returned with a smile, know this: you are stronger than most.
Hold on to who you are, and who you’re becoming.
You will work with people who don’t like you but will smile with you
You learn early that professionalism isn’t about liking your colleagues—it’s about surviving them. In most offices, especially in hierarchies thick with politics and power distance, passive aggression is fluent, and alliances shift like the Harmattan wind. People will say, “Let’s circle back on that,” when they mean, “You’re on your own.” Someone will send a work-back email at 4:59 p.m. on a Friday.
You’ll sit in meetings with people who smiled at you during lunch but threw you under the bus in the group email. You’ll learn to distinguish real laughter from performative giggles. And through all this, you’ll carry yourself with grace because survival in this space demands a peculiar strength—one that doesn’t retaliate, but recalibrates.
“Sometimes you survive not by fighting, but by enduring. Not by winning, but by refusing to quit.”
No one is coming to save you
Forget what you were told in school. There is no one-size-fits-all in the workplace, and there is definitely no knight in shining armor. You will walk in bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, expecting mentorship, structure, and support. Instead, you’ll find a half-dead printer, a chaotic Google Drive, and a supervisor who tells you, “Just figure it out.”
And you will, that is the positive side of everything ……. you will struggle but you will figure it out.
Because the African hustle doesn’t leave room for luxury. You’ll Google your way through Excel, learn diplomacy through HR complaints, and master office politics like a diplomat in enemy territory. You’ll learn to keep your CV updated just in case, and how to draft resignation letters you’ll never send.
“You won’t always have a map. Sometimes you must become the compass.”
Some days you will cry in the bathroom. Or in your office. Or your car. And that’s okay
Crying doesn’t mean you’re weak—it means you’re human. That washroom stall has been a confessional booth for many. The car becomes a therapy couch before and after work. You’re not crazy. You’re adjusting to a system that doesn’t prioritize mental health, yet demands peak performance.
Normalize the release. Go ahead and cry your eyes out —but also wash your face, fix your collar, and re-enter that room. That comeback, that resilience, is your victory.
“She cried quietly but roared with her return.”
You will question your entire career at least once a week
You will ask: What am I doing with my life? You’ll browse Master’s programs in Finland at 2 a.m. You’ll Google, “Remote jobs that pay in dollars,” after a toxic appraisal meeting. And you’ll seriously consider quitting and becoming a baker, nail technician, or YouTuber.
These questions are normal. They are signs that you are still dreaming, still hoping, still resisting stagnation. It’s okay not to have it figured out. We’re all pretending to be adults who know what we’re doing.
“Doubt is not a dead end. Sometimes, it’s the detour to clarity.” — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
You will still show up, give your best—and that’s your real power
Despite the tears, the silence, the inner screams, the politics, and the pressure—you still show up. Every day. That is your power. Not perfection. Not promotion. Not praise. But presence.
You are building a quiet resilience, a spiritual armor that thickens with every tough conversation, every unfair review, and every unacknowledged effort. You are not weak for feeling weary—you are powerful for pushing through anyway.
“The real flex is showing up, doing the work, and staying true—even when no one claps for you.”
And slowly, without even realizing it, you’re becoming the kind of leader, friend, and human being others look up to—not because you never fell apart, but because you learned how to rebuild yourself silently, consistently, and with dignity, thanks to the working environment.
Final thoughts
In the Ghanaian 8-to-5 hustle, survival isn’t just about dodging burnout — it’s about mastering the art of staying whole in a world that keeps pulling you apart. It’s learning to lead without a title, to heal without applause, and to persevere when no one sees the battle but you.
Yes, you are tired.
Yes, it’s hard.
But still—you rise.
So when the silence grows loud, when the weight of performance threatens your peace, and when your dreams feel too distant to touch, know that you’ve got this.
When you feel lost, when the silence in your office feels louder than words, when you’re gasping under the pressure of being everything to everyone —Pause. Breathe. Remind yourself:
You are not just enduring—you are becoming.
You’ve got this. And even when you don’t, you will find a way.
This Author is a Risk assessment and cost reduction Strategist, Accountant, relationship coach, writer/Author
Tel. No: 0244998789
Email: [email protected]
