Somewhere along the way, we internalised a dangerous message: that stillness is stagnation, that rest is a kind of regression. But this belief is not innate; it is conditioned. Born from systems that value us for what we produce, not for who we are.
Lately, I’ve had this weirdly consistent conversation with friends and a colleague, who confess that they can't stand LinkedIn because it feels… fake? Which is strange because I don’t quite share the same sentiment. Not fake in the sense that people are lying, but fake in that everything feels a little too performative, as if we’re all stuck on stage, clapping for each other while secretly wondering, “Am I doing enough?” I get it; we do live in a culture that’s addicted to visibility. If you didn’t post it, did it really happen? If you're not “booked and busy”, are you even trying?
I've fallen into the trap of wondering if I'm doing enough, and perhaps this September, which is Self-Improvement Month, we can also normalise the celebration of stillness. I'm guilty of equating constant activity with growth, but I hope we can challenge ourselves to destigmatise stillness.
Because the data is clear: recovery isn’t a reward for performance; it’s a prerequisite for it. According to AfricanBusiness.com, only 20 per cent of African employees are engaged at work, compared to 23 per cent globally, an alarming sign of burnout and disengagement. In the same report, South Africa ranked 69th out of 71 countries in mental wellness, with 35 per cent of respondents classified as “distressed” or struggling.
Meanwhile, in Kenya and here in Tanzania, just 14–16 per cent of employees say they’re thriving. And it starts young. According to mHub-Africa.org, 79 per cent of East African employees aged 18–24 report high levels of fatigue and lack of motivation, clear signs of early burnout, with many also battling frequent negative thought patterns. Without intervention, the next generation of African talent could burn out before they truly flourish. If we’re serious about self-improvement, maybe the most radical thing we can do is stop performing long enough to actually grow.
Somewhere along the way, we internalised a dangerous message: that stillness is stagnation, that rest is a kind of regression. But this belief is not innate; it is conditioned, born from systems that value us for what we produce, not for who we are. The truth is, we were never meant to prove our worth through relentless doing. We are human beings, not instruments of performance. Think about it; the most grounded people I know are the ones who don’t need to narrate their every move. What if this September stillness is sacred and not suspicious?
Here are 4 simple ways to practise being instead of proving
Mute the metrics: Turn off insights, disable notifications, or delete the app for a weekend. Let your progress go unquantified.
Unperform joy: Do something you love, dance, draw, or garden without posting it. Let it be yours alone.
Practise presence, not performance: At your next dinner or work meeting, notice how often you’re curating your responses instead of being present. Stop performing; be present and open.
Replace FOMO with JOMO (Joy of Missing Out): Celebrate the moments you chose quiet over chaos. That’s self-care too.
Maybe the most radical act of self-improvement this month is choosing not to do it at all?
To conclude this article, let me share an excerpt of a poem that I wrote inspired by this topic.
“...But tell me, when was the last time you bloomed in private? When your rest wasn’t rationed, or your stillness surrendered?
The crowd will always applaud what you produce But forget that fruits don’t announce their ripening.
…
Let the quiet do its work.”
Wishing you a truly fulfilled self-improvement month, whatever that looks like to you, and may it bring you closer to the version of yourself that feels whole.
