The Lower Eastern Times Opening The Third Eye
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By: Njoki Thuku, Mount Kenya University
As social media glamorizes ease and luxury, students say the pressure to “live softly” is colliding with financial stress, academic demands, and emotional exhaustion.
On Instagram, campus life looks effortless.
There are rooftop brunches with captions that read “soft life only.” There are surprise bouquets, weekend road trips, and perfectly filtered study sessions in aesthetic cafés. On TikTok, students joke about “dating up” and “manifesting ease” as if adulthood is something you simply curate.
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Offline, 21-year-old Mercy is refreshing her banking app, waiting for a HELB disbursement that hasn’t arrived.
“I posted a picture at a café last week,” she admits. “But I had ordered the cheapest thing on the menu and sat there for two hours to make it look like I was okay.”
She laughs softly. Then pauses.
“Sometimes it feels like everyone else is thriving. Meanwhile, I’m just trying to survive.”
Across Kenyan campuses, the language of “soft life” has become part of everyday conversation — shorthand for comfort, financial ease, and emotional peace. But behind the captions and curated posts, many students say they are navigating something very different: anxiety, burnout, and quiet comparison.
Performing Ease
For Brian, a third-year student in Nairobi, the pressure is subtle but constant.
“You don’t want to look like you’re struggling,” he says. “Everyone is posting achievements, relationships, vacations. If you’re not careful, you start measuring yourself against that.”
He says the pressure isn’t just about money — it’s about optics.
“If your relationship isn’t posted, people assume it’s failing. If you’re single, you feel like you’re behind. If you’re broke, you don’t say it.”
Platforms like Instagram and TikTok have amplified visibility. What was once private — dates, gifts, arguments, breakups — now unfolds publicly. Validation arrives in the form of likes, comments, and reposts.
But comparison arrives too.
“Sometimes you’re okay,” says Aisha, a second-year student. “Then you scroll for five minutes and suddenly you’re questioning your relationship, your body, your progress — everything.”
Survival Mode Behind the Screen
Beneath the curated content lies a harsher reality.
Students speak of delayed loans, side hustles squeezed between lectures, and the rising cost of living. Some juggle part-time work while trying to maintain their grades. Others avoid social outings to save money but still feel compelled to post something — anything — to keep up appearances.
“It’s like you’re living two lives,” Mercy says. “The one on your phone and the real one.”
Mental health professionals globally have raised concerns about rising anxiety among young people. The World Health Organization has noted increasing mental health challenges among youth worldwide, particularly in environments shaped by rapid social change and digital pressure.
On campus, students describe symptoms that feel familiar: difficulty concentrating, disrupted sleep, and constant overthinking.
“I’ll be studying, but my mind is somewhere else,” Brian admits. “You’re thinking about money. You’re thinking about whether you’re doing enough. You’re thinking about how everyone else seems ahead.”
What is marketed as “soft life” can begin to feel like a standard — one that is financially and emotionally expensive to maintain.
Love, Money, and Optics
Relationships, too, have become part of the performance.
Several students say there is unspoken pressure to display affection publicly. Surprise gifts are photographed. Anniversaries are staged. Arguments, when they happen, are hidden.
“If he doesn’t post you, your friends will ask questions,” Aisha says. “And sometimes you start doubting things that were fine before.”
Financial expectations complicate matters further. Some students feel pressured to match what they see online — elaborate dates, expensive gestures, aesthetic lifestyles — even when their budgets say otherwise.
“It’s not that we don’t love each other,” says Daniel, a fourth-year student. “It’s that we’re trying to live a lifestyle that doesn’t match our reality.”
The result, he says, is stress layered on top of academic demands.
“You’re worried about exams. Then you’re worried about money. Then you’re worried about whether your life looks good enough.”
Is Soft Life the Problem?
Not everyone believes social media is to blame.
“It’s not the platform,” one student argues. “It’s how we interpret it.”
There is truth in that. Social media did not invent ambition or comparison. But it has intensified visibility. It has made other people’s highlight reels available 24 hours a day.
In a generation raised online, the gap between perception and reality can feel personal.
“Sometimes I log out for a week,” Mercy says. “And I feel lighter.”
Still, logging off is not always simple. Digital spaces are where friendships, trends, and even opportunities unfold.
The contradiction remains: a culture that promotes ease in a season of life defined by uncertainty.
Redefining Soft Life
As evening falls, Daniel sits in the campus library, headphones in and laptop open. He scrolls briefly — then locks his phone.
“Maybe soft life isn’t about money,” he says after a moment. “Maybe it’s about not comparing yourself every day.”
For many students, survival mode is not a choice — it is a necessity. Tuition must be paid. Assignments must be submitted. Futures must be built.
But beneath the filters and captions, a quieter conversation is emerging on Kenyan campuses — one about authenticity, boundaries, and mental health.
Perhaps the real soft life is not curated. Perhaps it begins when the performance ends.
