The Struggle of Life: Questions with No Answers

The Struggle of Life: Questions with No Answers
By Twum O. Obed

Why is life so hard? Why does it feel like, from the very moment we’re born, we’re placed in a never-ending race with no finish line? We come into this world with nothing and spend our lives working towards something—whether it’s a house to live in, a woman to marry, a business to build, or children to raise. We fight for these things, sometimes for decades, only to find that when we finally reach a point where we can enjoy them, time runs out. We grow old, worn down by all the struggles, and then, just as we begin to savor life, death comes knocking. The land we bought, the house we built, the wealth we accumulated—none of it truly belongs to us forever.

Why is life this way? What’s the point of all the struggle if, in the end, we have so little time to enjoy what we worked for? And what if you’ve toiled for years and never had the chance to enjoy your rewards? What if, like so many, you spend your life working, building, dreaming, only to die before you can truly live? Meanwhile, others come after, inheriting what you worked for, and yet, they never truly earned it. Your house, your car, your business—they’re left to rot, forgotten in the dust. The cycle repeats. The struggle never ends. Why is that?

Why does life seem so unfair? Why do some people never lay a finger to build anything of their own, yet they inherit everything you worked for, everything you sweated over? And why does it feel like your business, your dreams, your legacy, can be destroyed so easily, just left behind like trash? Your mansions turn to ruins, your cars collect dust, and all your hard work is wasted, while those who struggle to start over have nothing but frustration and hopelessness. What makes life this hard? Why is it that, when you need help the most, people turn their backs on you? It feels like nobody’s there unless you’ve lied or pretended to be someone you’re not. What does that say about the world we live in? Is there something we don’t understand?

We spend almost half of our lives schooling, trying to build knowledge, gain skills, and make a future for ourselves. Yet, at the end of the day, when we die, we can’t even leave our certificates for those we love, for our children or the people around us. All that education, all that learning, seems wasted. Why do we spend so much of our time and energy chasing something that disappears when we leave this world? Does that make sense? Why should we toil away for something so temporary, so fleeting?

What if life isn’t real at all? What if we’re all just living in some kind of dream, passing through it without even knowing where we came from or where we’re going? We all come into this world without knowing why, and we leave the same way—uncertain, confused, with so many questions that may never be answered. What makes life so important, then? Why do we even bother with all the pain, the struggle, the endless work? Is it a test? A punishment? Or are we all just walking through a graveyard, pretending that it means something?

Why do some people just come into this world only to battle with diseases their entire lives? Why do people go through life with pain, physical and emotional, that never seems to end? Even those who seek faith in religion, who pray, hope, and believe, seem to suffer even more than those who don’t. If the world is supposed to offer some kind of peace or relief, why do the faithful struggle so much? Is there something more to this struggle that we don’t see, or is everything truly pointless?

If life is a test, what are we supposed to learn from all the suffering? Why is it that people who lie, cheat, and cut corners seem to get ahead, while the honest, the genuine, struggle to make it? People say life is short, but sometimes it feels like it’s too long, a never-ending cycle of effort with no real reward. We see those who sell their souls for money, those who take shortcuts to get ahead, and they seem to enjoy everything they’ve gained. They live in luxury, and when they die, at least they got to enjoy the fruits of their labor—no matter how crooked the path was. Isn’t that tempting? Isn’t it frustrating to know that those who play by the rules often lose, while those who don’t seem to win?

Maybe this is the hardest part of it all: knowing that, no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you suffer, you might never get to enjoy the things you worked for. Life is a paradox. We struggle, we sweat, we fight for things that could easily be taken away. And then, when it seems like we’ve reached the peak, when we’re finally ready to enjoy the view, it’s already too late. Time has run out. The things we fought for decay, the things we wanted pass us by.

Why does it have to be this way? Why can’t life be more straightforward? Why does it seem like only those who cheat the system ever get ahead? What if, in the end, all this struggle is pointless, a never-ending cycle that leads nowhere? Wouldn’t it be better to just stop trying, to accept that the system is broken and no matter what you do, you’re just going to end up like everyone else—struggling until you die?

What if we all just wake up one day and realize it was all just a dream? What if we’re just passing through, and none of this truly matters? It’s hard to find meaning when the struggle is so heavy, when it feels like we’re running in circles and never getting anywhere. Maybe we never get to enjoy life because life is more about the struggle than the success. Maybe it’s about learning to live with uncertainty, with frustration, with disappointment. And maybe, just maybe, the only way to find peace in this chaos is to let go of the need for answers, to accept that the struggle is as much a part of life as anything else.

But why is that? Why must life be so difficult, so full of pain, yet so empty of clear answers? Why do we have to fight just to live, just to survive, and then die before we can even begin to enjoy the fruits of our labor?

Why is life so difficult to understand? Why do people get stuck in life, struggling from childhood? Their parents mistreat them, their siblings mistreat them, and when they grow up, they struggle to get married, only to face even more mistreatment. It feels as if everybody dislikes them. They battle with everything—struggling to get a job, struggling to find love, struggling, struggling, struggling.

In the end, is this life just an experiment? Is it a prison? Is it a dream? Are we here to correct ourselves from something, even though we have no idea what we have done before? Is life just a movie, an example to correct others? Or to correct ourselves?

Why is life so full of struggle? Why do some people face endless difficulties? Why is it that you struggle today, and tomorrow you are gone? You don’t even get time to enjoy what you have labored for. We stress and exhaust ourselves so much for a life that can be taken away at any time.

Why is it that some rich children who don’t have to work hard inherit everything, while those who struggle endlessly to survive never seem to get a break? Why is it that those who suffer the most are the ones who seem to bring more life into the world? Is the purpose of life on earth just to suffer and endure pain?

Is this world a prison where we are being punished for something we have no knowledge of? What are we suffering for? What are we striving for? In the end, everything we build, everything we work for, is left behind.

Is there anyone who can truly answer what life really means?

Why is it that there are so many graduates with good degrees on the streets, searching for jobs, yet they find nothing? Meanwhile, those who didn’t even go to school or didn’t finish seem to be working and thriving, securing employment. Where do all the smart people go? Why do they end up on the streets, while others, perhaps less educated, appear to be succeeding?

Why is it that so many people are physically healthy but seem to be mentally struggling, while those who are mentally ill are often seen as “normal”? Why does the world sometimes twist what we understand as success or failure, health or illness, and intelligence or lack thereof? It’s as if the lines between these realities are blurred and reversed.

What if we are just part of a bigger picture, trapped in a world we don’t understand? What if all these struggles are leading us somewhere we can’t yet see? Or maybe—just maybe—it’s the questions themselves that keep us alive, even when the answers are out of reach.