10/10/2024
It’s 7:50 a.m. as I stand, exhausted, in front of my workplace gate, gripped by a familiar sense of fear. The warmth of my family’s rushed goodbyes after a quick breakfast already feels distant. I barely slept last night—yesterday, as I was leaving work, my boss handed me a task that needs a week to complete, but I have just two days. It’s not even my responsibility, but how can I argue when I have a vague job description?
One year ago, I was grateful for this job. It was supposed to be temporary, with a promise of becoming permanent after six months if I proved myself. Back then, I arrived early every day, eager to impress my boss, even though the pay was small. I worked hard, from a cramped desk in the back, with poor lighting and no ventilation, all in hopes of making my boss proud and supporting my family.
But instead of praise, I got mostly criticism—no clear feedback, and no resources to help me improve. I persevered, believing that at least my salary and the hope of a permanent position would be worth it. But now, even that salary comes in late, and often incomplete. My six-month contract was quietly extended to a year, and now it’s been two—still no formal notice, no answers.
I’m not the only one affected.
My family feels it too. I can't provide for them as I hoped, and I bring work home just to meet impossible deadlines. It steals time from them and from my sleep.
And here I am again, standing at the gate, tired, unsure of what tomorrow holds. I know I’ll walk in, sign in, and face the usual struggle. Who can I turn to? I wish I could speak to my boss, but with the job market so tight, I’m reminded daily by my boss, colleagues and friends that I’m lucky to even have this job.
But is it really luck if I’m losing myself in the process?
