As I close out 2024, a year that has been both exhilarating and transformative, I find myself reflecting on a concept that has surfaced repeatedly in my thoughts and conversations—social debt.
Social debt is the invisible weight of communal expectations, often born out of shared identities, cultural values, or socioeconomic realities.
For much of my life and career, I have carried this weight with pride, honoring my obligations to family, friends, and my broader community. As I step into 2025, I am making a conscious choice to recalibrate.
What a year ♥️
— Nthanda Manduwihttps://t.co/0p2auwzz1p pic.twitter.com/6Gf5E5hrhe
(@NthandaManduwi) December 20, 2024
The Privilege of Anonymity: Reflecting on 2024 and Taking a Break
In this new year, I am choosing to step away from social media, to retreat from the public eye—not because I am walking away from my community, but because I am giving myself permission to rest and re-center. I will continue to share strictly via this blog, and occassionally through my company pages. I however wish to not operate my social media pages for the foreseeable while.
The Weight of Social Debt
Social debt is a term that captures the implicit obligations we owe to our social circles, especially in cultures and contexts where collective success matters more than individual triumphs. It’s the understanding that when you achieve something, it’s not just for you—it’s for your family, your friends, your community, your country, even your continent.
Growing up in Malawi, I’ve seen firsthand how success is rarely an individual journey. It’s a shared experience, tied to sacrifices made by many, from parents who worked tirelessly to give their children opportunities, to communities that rally behind promising talent, cheering them on. This is a beautiful reality, but it also creates a unique pressure. When you succeed, the expectation is that you will “pay it forward”—not just as a choice, but as a necessity.
The Privilege of Wealth: Freedom from Social Debt
This year, I came across a video that resonated deeply with me. It discussed how true privilege—beyond material wealth—is found in the freedom from social debt. When you have enough resources, you are no longer required to perform your success publicly or meet the expectations of others. You can afford to simply exist, free of the need to be seen, validated, or relied upon by a network of people.
Wealth gives you the ability to protect your energy, your privacy, and your time. It allows you to say “no” without fear of judgment or reprisal. It gives you the luxury of anonymity—the privilege of not being known. For many people, this is the ultimate freedom.
But what happens when you’re someone like me, deeply connected to your community and still working to build that freedom? It’s not an easy balance to strike. The visibility of my work often feels like an extension of my social debt. The platforms I’ve built—my blog, my foundation, my social media, my public speaking—have become avenues through which I repay what I owe to the people and places that raised me. Yet, as I approach my 30s, I realize that continuously pouring from my cup without replenishment is not sustainable.
Why I’m Taking a Break
In 2024, I have achieved more than I could have imagined. From completing my first semester at Michigan State University’s MBA program to traveling back home to Malawi for meaningful work, to being honored with awards and recognition that I never anticipated. And yet, I feel the fatigue of always being “on,” always accessible, and always performing my achievements.
Social media has been a powerful tool for me—a way to share my journey, inspire others, and connect with incredible minds across the globe. But it has also been a space where my boundaries blur. The constant notifications, messages, and the pressure to share updates can sometimes feel overwhelming. As I move forward, I’m choosing to step back. Not permanently, but long enough to recharge and reflect.
Reclaiming My Time and Energy
Stepping away from social media is my way of reclaiming time and energy for myself. It’s a declaration (to myself) that I am allowed to retreat, to rest, and to prioritize my well-being. It’s a recognition that while I am deeply honored to carry the weight of social debt, I must also balance it with the responsibility I have to myself.
I want to spend this next year creating without the pressure of an audience, writing for myself rather than for algorithms, and reconnecting with the joy of doing things simply because they fulfill me.
A Call to Reflection: The Africa We Deserve
As I take this break, I leave with a reminder of the immense responsibility we all carry—not just to ourselves, but to the larger narratives we are shaping. I often speak about how 60% of Africa’s population is youth, and how the future of our continent depends on how we, as individuals, contribute to collective progress.
Taking a step back from social media doesn’t mean stepping back from my work. If anything, it’s a commitment to ensuring that the work I do is grounded in authenticity and purpose, rather than performance. It’s my way of ensuring that as I contribute to building the Africa we deserve, I am doing so from a place of strength and clarity.
Closing Out 2024
This year has been a whirlwind, and I am grateful for every moment—the wins, the lessons, and even the challenges. But I am ready for a new chapter, one where I focus inward, build quietly, and return stronger.
To everyone who has been part of my journey, thank you for your support, encouragement, and belief in me. I’ll see you all soon—offline for now, but always present where it matters most.
Here’s to 2025: I am wishing you a year of growth, grounding, and giving back.
All my love,
Ntha
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