It is time to cancel hustle culture

At the launch of Why Am I Like This? at Exclusive Books in Rosebank Mall, Qaanitah Hunter spoke with a candour and tenderness that lingered long after she finished her address. Known for her razor-sharp political reporting, Hunter has stepped into the world of fiction with surprising softness, offering a story that is as personal as it is universal.

Her own experiences of burnout, trauma and weight loss quietly echo in the life of her novel’s protagonist, Farah. But Farah is not Qaanitah — not entirely. She is her own woman: flawed, tender, searching and deeply human. All the same, the emotional architecture of her journey feels lived in. Farah walks the winding path of grief, body transformation and healing, moving through the messy terrain of love in all its forms: unrequited, inopportune and reciprocated but unrealised. This is a novel set in the era of Ozempic, therapy and “situationships”, where the pursuit of self-love often competes with societal pressures and internalised expectations.

What anchors the narrative, though, is Hunter’s deft interweaving of history. Through the characters Comrade Zee and Uncle Momo, the novel offers delicate titbits about the anti-apartheid struggle, reminding readers personal stories do not exist in a vacuum. They are shaped by history, politics and the ghosts of where we come from. This grounding gives Why Am I Like This? textured depth: it’s not only a story about one woman’s becoming, but also a reminder of the generations who carried heavy burdens so the present might feel lighter, even when it doesn’t.

As a mental-health writer, the parts of the novel that gripped me most were those where Farah’s exhaustion is palpable, when Hunter names what so many of us feel but rarely articulate. At the launch, I was reminded of a truth I encounter often in my work: burnout is real. And yet it is too easily misread as procrastination, laziness or lack of self-discipline. It is anything but. Not being able to get out of bed, shower, brush your hair and pull yourself into clean clothes are not signs of weakness — rather, they are cries for help. They are evidence of a nervous system buckling under the weight of accumulated trauma, loss, unfulfilled expectations and emotional labour.

Hunter captures this welter of emotions with honesty and compassion. Farah’s journey towards self-love is not linear or romanticised. It is messy, uncomfortable and necessary. The narrative challenges the reader to interrogate concepts of rest, self-worth and the myth of the “strong woman” who must push through exhaustion without pause.

My takeaway from Why Am I Like This? is simple but urgent: it is time to cancel hustle culture. Hunter’s novel is a reminder that our mental, physical and emotional well-being must be prioritised — before our body gives us no choice in the matter. In Farah’s story, many readers will recognise their own quiet battles, and in Hunter’s writing they may find permission to rest, heal and choose gentleness over grind.

This timely novel is a resonant, necessary piece of work.

I invite you to join me on my reading journey, where stories like Why Am I Like This? find a home and spark conversation. Follow along at @blendedbooks on Instagram, where I share reviews of and reflections on the books that move, challenge and heal me.