Unhappiness Is More Common Than Happiness

No one really talks about how common unhappiness is.

People talk about success. They post laughter. They celebrate milestones. But unhappiness lives quietly, like background noise we’ve all learned to ignore.

Every morning, Musa opened his shop before the sun fully rose. He greeted customers with a practiced smile, counted change carefully, and nodded when people asked, “How far?” He always answered, “We thank God.” It was the safest reply. The expected one.

What he never said was that happiness came rarely — like rain in harmattan. Short, unexpected, and gone before he could stretch his hands to catch it.

Most days were just survival. Not terrible enough to scream, not good enough to celebrate. Just days stacked on top of each other, heavy and identical. He wasn’t depressed, he told himself. Just tired. Just waiting. Just hoping something would eventually make sense.

At night, he scrolled through his phone and saw people smiling into better lives. New jobs. New love. New beginnings. He wondered if happiness was a place others reached by luck, while people like him were meant to circle the road forever.

Then one evening, the power went out early. The street grew quiet. Musa sat outside his shop and watched people pass — each carrying their own invisible weight. A woman arguing softly on the phone. A man staring at the ground like it might answer him. A boy laughing too loudly, as if to outrun something chasing him.

That’s when it struck him.

Unhappiness wasn’t a personal failure. It was common. Almost shared. Just better hidden than joy.

Happiness, he realized, was loud — so it seemed bigger than it was. Unhappiness was silent — so it felt like it belonged only to him.

That night, nothing in his life changed. He was still broke. Still uncertain. Still tired.

But for the first time in a long while, he felt lighter.

Not happy.

Just less alone.

And sometimes, that was enough to keep going.