“I Felt an Unspoken Pressure to Smile”: A Kenyan Woman’s Honest Look at Workplace Likeability
Quote from Alex bobby on August 3, 2025, 3:15 AM
“I Felt an Unspoken Pressure to Smile”: A Kenyan Woman’s Reality in the Workplace
I didn’t realise it at first. The pressure was quiet, almost invisible. It crept in slowly — in how I was expected to laugh at unfunny jokes, nod at bad ideas, and smile through uncomfortable situations. It was never said out loud, but I felt it deeply. The pressure to be “nice.” To be agreeable. To smile, no matter how I truly felt.
It happened one afternoon during a meeting in our Nairobi office. I was 24, two years into my first real job — the kind of job everyone in my family was proud of. One that people in my village talked about at weddings and church functions. I was among the first women in my generation to go to university and the first to work in a corporate office.
So, when a senior colleague made a proposal I didn’t agree with, I hesitated. It wasn’t personal — the idea simply wasn’t practical. But before I could gather the courage to speak, he turned to the room and said, “And Faith agrees with me!” Then, he looked at me directly and added, “You agree, don’t you?”
I froze. Every eye in the room was on me. My stomach sank. I wanted to say, “No, I don’t agree,” but the words never left my mouth. Instead, I smiled — that awkward, forced smile — and said nothing.
In that moment, I felt something crack inside me. I had silenced myself to maintain peace. To protect my image. To avoid being labelled “difficult,” “emotional,” or worse — “unlikeable.”
The Hidden Weight of Like-ability
That wasn’t the only time I stayed quiet. Over the years, I’ve learned that being a woman in the Kenyan workplace comes with its own manual — an unwritten set of rules. Don’t challenge too much. Don’t speak too loudly. Don’t appear too ambitious. Be nice, but not weak. Be confident, but not assertive. Smile. Always smile.
What I didn’t realise is that this is something women across the world experience. Sociologist Amy Kean calls it “like-ability labour” — the constant emotional and mental effort women put into being liked at work. In her study Shapeshifters: What We Do to Be Liked at Work, 56% of women said they feel pressure to be likeable, compared to just 36% of men. That statistic hit home.
We soften our opinions with phrases like, “I might be wrong, but…” or “Sorry, just quickly…” We downplay our achievements so we don’t seem boastful. We apologise even when we’ve done nothing wrong. And we do all this to avoid being labelled “too much.”
In Kenya, there’s an added cultural layer to this. We’re raised to be respectful, to be agreeable, to avoid confrontation — especially with elders or men. So when we enter professional spaces, we carry those expectations with us, often at our own expense.
The “Office Mathe” Trap
There’s a term we use in the workplace here: office mathe — short for “office mother.” She’s the woman who takes care of everything and everyone. She makes tea during long meetings, organises birthday cakes, keeps tissues in her drawer for emotional colleagues, and smooths over awkward moments when tensions rise.
Everyone loves her. But rarely does she get promoted.
Why? Because while her emotional labour is appreciated, it’s not recognised as leadership. It’s seen as kindness, not competence. And often, it distracts from her own growth.
I’ve seen women like that — women who are brilliant, experienced, and deeply committed. But instead of being seen as potential leaders, they get boxed into the role of nurturer, helper, or “good team player.”
The Broken Rung
A recent McKinsey report — Women in the Workplace 2025 — examined this very issue in Kenya, Nigeria, and India. It introduced the concept of the “broken rung” on the corporate ladder. In Kenya, women hold about 50% of entry-level positions in sectors like finance and healthcare. But at senior management level, that figure drops to just 26%.
Why the steep drop?
It’s not because women lack ambition. It’s not because we’re less capable. It’s because we face subtle, systemic barriers — like the pressure to be likeable. Because when men are assertive, they’re called confident. When women are assertive, they’re called aggressive. That kind of double standard slows us down, or worse, pushes us out.
It's Not Just About Popularity — It’s About Safety
When I talk to other women about this, they often say, “It’s not just about being liked. It’s about being safe.” And they’re right.
For many of us, especially younger women, disagreeing in a meeting can come with real consequences — being sidelined, talked down to, or labeled “problematic.” So we learn to calculate. We speak less. We smile more. We shape-shift.
But at what cost?
In performance reviews, we’re more likely to receive feedback on our personalities rather than our performance. The U.S.-based firm Textio found that 56% of women were called “unlikeable” in feedback. Only 16% of men received that label. Meanwhile, men were four times more likely to be praised for being likeable — even when they were blunt or direct.
Unlearning the Silence
It’s taken me years to even admit this out loud — that I’ve been shrinking myself to fit in. That I’ve said “yes” when I wanted to scream “no.” That I’ve smiled when I wanted to challenge. That I’ve edited myself to be more acceptable in rooms that were never designed for people like me.
But I’m starting to unlearn it.
These days, I try to speak even when my voice shakes. I try to say “I don’t agree” and let that be okay. I remind myself that being direct isn’t rude — it’s necessary. And when younger women join the office, I try to model what I wish I had seen — that it’s okay to be yourself, even in a place that doesn’t always make room for that.
We Don’t Owe Anyone a Smile
I’m not saying we should go around frowning or picking fights in every meeting. But we shouldn’t have to wear a smile like armour just to be accepted. Our ideas matter. Our voices matter. And we should be allowed to show up fully — even when that means disagreeing, challenging, or simply not laughing at the boss’s bad joke.
Because at the end of the day, being “likeable” shouldn’t be a requirement for being heard. We don’t owe anyone a smile. We owe ourselves the truth.
Here’s a strong, reflective conclusion that matches the tone and depth of the article:
Conclusion: Our Silence Is Not Neutral — It’s a Survival Strategy
For many Kenyan women, likeability in the workplace isn’t just about fitting in — it’s about survival. It’s a way to navigate systems that were never truly built with us in mind. But silence, shape-shifting, and forced smiles come at a cost — to our confidence, our growth, and our mental well-being.
The pressure to be agreeable may feel invisible, but its effects are tangible. It holds women back from promotions, keeps ideas unspoken, and reinforces a culture where politeness is mistaken for professionalism.
We need to challenge the belief that being respected and being likeable are the same thing — they’re not. Respect should come from competence, not compliance.
It starts with each of us unlearning the need to perform and beginning to speak with courage — even when it’s uncomfortable. And it continues with companies and managers actively creating environments where women don’t have to earn psychological safety through smiles.
Because until workplaces make room for women to be real — not just likeable — progress will remain painfully slow.
Meta Description:
A young Kenyan woman shares her personal story of being pressured to smile and stay agreeable in the workplace — and how it reflects a wider problem facing women in professional spaces.

“I Felt an Unspoken Pressure to Smile”: A Kenyan Woman’s Reality in the Workplace
I didn’t realise it at first. The pressure was quiet, almost invisible. It crept in slowly — in how I was expected to laugh at unfunny jokes, nod at bad ideas, and smile through uncomfortable situations. It was never said out loud, but I felt it deeply. The pressure to be “nice.” To be agreeable. To smile, no matter how I truly felt.
It happened one afternoon during a meeting in our Nairobi office. I was 24, two years into my first real job — the kind of job everyone in my family was proud of. One that people in my village talked about at weddings and church functions. I was among the first women in my generation to go to university and the first to work in a corporate office.
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So, when a senior colleague made a proposal I didn’t agree with, I hesitated. It wasn’t personal — the idea simply wasn’t practical. But before I could gather the courage to speak, he turned to the room and said, “And Faith agrees with me!” Then, he looked at me directly and added, “You agree, don’t you?”
I froze. Every eye in the room was on me. My stomach sank. I wanted to say, “No, I don’t agree,” but the words never left my mouth. Instead, I smiled — that awkward, forced smile — and said nothing.
In that moment, I felt something crack inside me. I had silenced myself to maintain peace. To protect my image. To avoid being labelled “difficult,” “emotional,” or worse — “unlikeable.”
The Hidden Weight of Like-ability
That wasn’t the only time I stayed quiet. Over the years, I’ve learned that being a woman in the Kenyan workplace comes with its own manual — an unwritten set of rules. Don’t challenge too much. Don’t speak too loudly. Don’t appear too ambitious. Be nice, but not weak. Be confident, but not assertive. Smile. Always smile.
What I didn’t realise is that this is something women across the world experience. Sociologist Amy Kean calls it “like-ability labour” — the constant emotional and mental effort women put into being liked at work. In her study Shapeshifters: What We Do to Be Liked at Work, 56% of women said they feel pressure to be likeable, compared to just 36% of men. That statistic hit home.
We soften our opinions with phrases like, “I might be wrong, but…” or “Sorry, just quickly…” We downplay our achievements so we don’t seem boastful. We apologise even when we’ve done nothing wrong. And we do all this to avoid being labelled “too much.”
In Kenya, there’s an added cultural layer to this. We’re raised to be respectful, to be agreeable, to avoid confrontation — especially with elders or men. So when we enter professional spaces, we carry those expectations with us, often at our own expense.
The “Office Mathe” Trap
There’s a term we use in the workplace here: office mathe — short for “office mother.” She’s the woman who takes care of everything and everyone. She makes tea during long meetings, organises birthday cakes, keeps tissues in her drawer for emotional colleagues, and smooths over awkward moments when tensions rise.
Everyone loves her. But rarely does she get promoted.
Why? Because while her emotional labour is appreciated, it’s not recognised as leadership. It’s seen as kindness, not competence. And often, it distracts from her own growth.
I’ve seen women like that — women who are brilliant, experienced, and deeply committed. But instead of being seen as potential leaders, they get boxed into the role of nurturer, helper, or “good team player.”
The Broken Rung
A recent McKinsey report — Women in the Workplace 2025 — examined this very issue in Kenya, Nigeria, and India. It introduced the concept of the “broken rung” on the corporate ladder. In Kenya, women hold about 50% of entry-level positions in sectors like finance and healthcare. But at senior management level, that figure drops to just 26%.
Why the steep drop?
It’s not because women lack ambition. It’s not because we’re less capable. It’s because we face subtle, systemic barriers — like the pressure to be likeable. Because when men are assertive, they’re called confident. When women are assertive, they’re called aggressive. That kind of double standard slows us down, or worse, pushes us out.
It's Not Just About Popularity — It’s About Safety
When I talk to other women about this, they often say, “It’s not just about being liked. It’s about being safe.” And they’re right.
For many of us, especially younger women, disagreeing in a meeting can come with real consequences — being sidelined, talked down to, or labeled “problematic.” So we learn to calculate. We speak less. We smile more. We shape-shift.
But at what cost?
In performance reviews, we’re more likely to receive feedback on our personalities rather than our performance. The U.S.-based firm Textio found that 56% of women were called “unlikeable” in feedback. Only 16% of men received that label. Meanwhile, men were four times more likely to be praised for being likeable — even when they were blunt or direct.
Unlearning the Silence
It’s taken me years to even admit this out loud — that I’ve been shrinking myself to fit in. That I’ve said “yes” when I wanted to scream “no.” That I’ve smiled when I wanted to challenge. That I’ve edited myself to be more acceptable in rooms that were never designed for people like me.
But I’m starting to unlearn it.
These days, I try to speak even when my voice shakes. I try to say “I don’t agree” and let that be okay. I remind myself that being direct isn’t rude — it’s necessary. And when younger women join the office, I try to model what I wish I had seen — that it’s okay to be yourself, even in a place that doesn’t always make room for that.
We Don’t Owe Anyone a Smile
I’m not saying we should go around frowning or picking fights in every meeting. But we shouldn’t have to wear a smile like armour just to be accepted. Our ideas matter. Our voices matter. And we should be allowed to show up fully — even when that means disagreeing, challenging, or simply not laughing at the boss’s bad joke.
Because at the end of the day, being “likeable” shouldn’t be a requirement for being heard. We don’t owe anyone a smile. We owe ourselves the truth.
Here’s a strong, reflective conclusion that matches the tone and depth of the article:
Conclusion: Our Silence Is Not Neutral — It’s a Survival Strategy
For many Kenyan women, likeability in the workplace isn’t just about fitting in — it’s about survival. It’s a way to navigate systems that were never truly built with us in mind. But silence, shape-shifting, and forced smiles come at a cost — to our confidence, our growth, and our mental well-being.
The pressure to be agreeable may feel invisible, but its effects are tangible. It holds women back from promotions, keeps ideas unspoken, and reinforces a culture where politeness is mistaken for professionalism.
We need to challenge the belief that being respected and being likeable are the same thing — they’re not. Respect should come from competence, not compliance.
It starts with each of us unlearning the need to perform and beginning to speak with courage — even when it’s uncomfortable. And it continues with companies and managers actively creating environments where women don’t have to earn psychological safety through smiles.
Because until workplaces make room for women to be real — not just likeable — progress will remain painfully slow.
Meta Description:
A young Kenyan woman shares her personal story of being pressured to smile and stay agreeable in the workplace — and how it reflects a wider problem facing women in professional spaces.
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