A Day of "74 Hours"

In societies where a woman's success is measured by her ability to endure, time becomes flexible at her expense. Days pass, and we don’t know if we are living them, or if they are living us; they wrap around our necks and press down on us little by little, while we continue to smile and pretend that everything is under control.

A day in 74 hours, not because time has expanded, but because the burdens have doubled, responsibilities have multiplied, and moments pass without a breath. For there are days when time cannot be measured in hours, but in pressures, voices, tension, faces, responsibilities, and a to-do list that grows every time you try to reduce it.
A day in 74 hours?

Yes, because women in our societies do not live by the time of the earth, but by the time of necessity. We stretch time and make it accommodate everyone… except ourselves.

When we say that a woman lives a "day in 74 hours," we are not exaggerating; this is not just a literary metaphor, but an accurate description of a reality in which women accumulate tasks and responsibilities to an extent that time loses its traditional meaning. The working woman, or the non-working one, the mother, the provider, the student, or all of these together – does not sleep at ease, nor does she wake up to emptiness; she is in perpetual motion, lacking recognition, a salary, and appreciation.

Your day starts before others wake up, and ends after they all sleep, but the truth? It never ends.
Why not? Because she is a mother, a teacher, a cook, a nurse, a nutrition expert, a mediator for family disputes, and she is also an employee, a producer, a creator, an activist, and an influencer.

And she is always, in the eyes of some, "lacking in something."

She moves through her day to the rhythm of switching between what is important, urgent, and immediate, without a real time break. For between preparing breakfast, thinking about the household budget, responding to the work manager, dealing with children, and trying to keep up with the news or study or self – her own moments slip away.

What is often unsaid is that many live these long days without complaint, but at a cost: exhaustion, mental fatigue, emotional distraction, and a chronic sense of guilt and inadequacy – all symptoms of a never-ending day. But since fatigue is "part of the role," it is not counted as pain, but archived as an achievement.

For a woman to be aware of this pressure is not surrender but the beginning of realization. To reset the rhythm of her day and take an hour for herself is an act of political significance; to say "no" to what is unbearable, and to distribute responsibilities instead of monopolizing them is a rejection of a system complicit against the comfort of women.

For a woman to decide that her day should be only 24 hours is to declare sovereignty over her time and herself.
In a society that teaches women to give everything without reciprocity…
We say to her today: do not live time on behalf of everyone.
Redistribute the hours, create space for yourself, not because you are selfish, but because you are human.

To the working woman, the mother, the student, the activist, whose days are pressured until the day almost becomes 74 hours… do not reach for comfort, enough! It is time to change the 74 to 24… do not live time on behalf of everyone.