Side hustle culture: Are young women building freedom or burnout?

Three diverse faces of the Kenyan hustle/IA generated

In cafés, dorm rooms, salons and small apartments across the world, a generation of young women is working long after official working hours end.

Some are editing videos for TikTok clients at midnight. Others are packaging skincare orders, managing online thrift stores, freelancing as graphic designers, tutoring online or filming content between classes and office shifts.

The modern side hustle has become more than a trend. For many young women, it is now part of everyday life.

What once seemed like an ambitious financial strategy building “multiple income streams” has increasingly become a social expectation among young people.

Across social media, entrepreneurship is celebrated as the highest form of independence, while traditional employment is often portrayed as restrictive rather than secure.

In response, many young women are turning to side hustles in search of freedom, flexibility, and financial control.

But beneath the polished success stories lies a more complicated reality. While side hustles are opening doors to empowerment and opportunity, they are also fueling a culture of constant productivity that leaves many exhausted, anxious and emotionally drained.

The question is no longer whether side hustles are popular. The real question is whether they are helping young women build freedom or quietly pushing them towards burnout.

Joan Wanjiru, 23, is a student at the Presbyterian University of East Africa and a freelance graphic designer from Kikuyu. She started freelancing to cover what her student loan couldn’t.

“Campus fees and upkeep don’t wait for anyone,” Joan says. “My side hustle pays for my rent and textbooks. Without it, I’d have dropped out by second year. But freedom? I’m not sure. I take design gigs even during lectures because I’m afraid of losing a client.”

For Yvonne Nelima, who manages an online thrift store from Huruma, the side hustle started as a creative outlet but quickly became a financial lifeline after her office job let her go.

“When I lost my job, my thrift store was the only thing that kept me eating,” Yvonne recalls. “I was taking photos of clothes at 5 am. It gave me money, but it also gave me stress. Now I’m employed again, but I can’t shut the store because I’m terrified of being broke twice.”

Tinah Mwende, owns a beauty salon in Kariobangi. “People see me doing braids and think, ‘She’s her own boss,’” she says. “They don’t see me closing at 9 pm, doing inventory until midnight, then waking up at 5 am. I had to pause my salon for two weeks because my hands were shaking from exhaustion. If I stop, my two employees don’t eat.”

Unlike the corporate ladder where women are often overlooked for promotions the side hustle feels rewarding excellence. For many young women, building a brand online is the first time they’ve felt in control of their earning potential. It’s not just a job; it’s a hedge against financial instability.

It would be dishonest to call side hustles a universal trap. Some women build genuine freedom but often through luck, leverage and hard boundaries.

Consider Pamela Nkirote who bakes and decorates celebration cakes birthdays, graduations, baby showers. She does not bake without a deposit and only accepts two orders per weekend.

"I used to take six orders a weekend which was very exhausting," Violet says. "Now I have a rule: two cakes maximum. One on Saturday, one on Sunday. Customers book two weeks in advance or they don't get served. The secret is scarcity. When people know you're limited, they pay faster and complain less. I stopped trying to please everyone. Now I please myself first."  

So yes, some young women are building freedom. But their success stories should not be used to silence the exhaustion of the majority.