We get so consumed by work, health, and the constant chase of everyday life that we forget to pause. To reflect. To look deeper into what’s happening around us, not just in our own circles, but in the world at large.
I’ve noticed this in myself too. Some days I’m scrolling through my feed, and I see a heartbreaking image, a child crying in Gaza, a family fleeing their home in fear. For a moment, I feel the weight of it. My chest tightens, I want to scream at the injustice … and then I move on. Another headline. Another video. Another crisis.
And that scares me. Because if I, someone who grew up in a home where world affairs and social issues were discussed daily, can feel myself going numb — what does that say about the world we live in today?
Growing up in Pakistan, news wasn’t just background noise. In my house, it was dinner table/ teatime conversation. Whether it was a natural disaster, political instability, or another global crisis, there was a sense of urgency and empathy in the air. We felt things deeply, and we were encouraged to form our own opinions and voice them on world politics and social issues. I was an active member of welfare organizations, going door to door to collect donations for earthquake victims, or volunteering with animal rights groups. Back then, empathy was action.
Later, when I moved to France for my master’s and then Dubai for work, I noticed a shift not just in myself, but in the life around me. Life became faster. More demanding. More self-focused. Work deadlines, health goals, financial security, they all crept up and started taking over. The tragedies on the other side of the screen became distant. Something to acknowledge briefly, maybe repost on social media, and then get back to the to-do list.
Part of the problem is the sheer amount of information we’re exposed to today. Our phones constantly flood us with breaking news, tragedies, and horrors from every corner of the world. One day it’s Gaza, the next Sudan, then Ukraine, Syria, or Yemen. Each crisis competes for our attention, and in the process, we become overwhelmed. Our brains, trying to protect us, go numb. We scroll past suffering because it feels endless and unsolvable. Meanwhile, the constant stream of entertainment and glamor creates the illusion that life is perfect and worry-free — sometimes it feels like we are living in The Hunger Games, spectators to both tragedy and spectacle.
But there’s also another layer: our busy, demanding lives. We’re stretched thin — trying to balance careers, relationships, health, and our own private struggles. It’s not that we don’t care, it’s that caring feels heavy and like an additional chore. And so, slowly, we stop looking too closely. We mourn a tragedy for 24 hours online, then the next day our feeds are back to workout tips, vacation reels, and coffee aesthetics.
And yet, we can’t afford to look away. When we lose our ability to feel outrage, to empathize, to pause and reflect, we risk losing part of our humanity. I understand that we need to protect our mental peace, but not to the point of becoming desensitized or selfish. Caring may feel heavy, but shutting ourselves off entirely is a risk we cannot take. Genocides don’t stop because the world looks away. Oppression doesn’t end because we’re too busy to notice.
Maybe we can’t solve every crisis. Maybe we can’t carry the weight of the world every single day. But we can remind ourselves to feel — to stay awake and aware. We can talk about these issues, even when the room grows quiet. We can notice when our hearts start to harden, and fight against it. We can choose not to be consumed only by our own struggles or distracted by life’s glamor. We can carry something, even if not everything — whether it’s reading deeply about one issue, donating AED 100, signing a petition, or simply pausing to truly care.
Because at the end of the day, silence and indifference have always been the best allies of injustice.
P.S. The purpose of writing this article is not to put anyone in guilt, but simply to remind us all that our lives have a purpose bigger than ourselves! 🙂
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