Let me say it plainly: life is not fair.
I don’t mean it in a pessimistic or bitter way. I mean it as someone who’s seen this reality from every side — in business, in friendships, across borders, and even in my own story.
I’ve been privileged in many ways. I’ve worked at companies like Microsoft and Yahoo!, lived in the U.S., France, Thailand, and the UAE. I’ve co-founded a company that grew into one of the leading digital media platforms in the MENA region. I’ve had access — to people, to knowledge, to opportunity. But I’ve also seen firsthand that none of those things are distributed equally. And talent, kindness, or hard work don’t always guarantee outcomes.
It took me years to realize that fairness is not a system feature — it’s an illusion we try to build for comfort.
It Starts With Where You’re Born
Early in my career, I worked alongside brilliant engineers and creatives. Some were from the U.S. and Europe. Others from places like Syria, Palestine, Sudan. Same skills. Same drive. But the outcomes? Worlds apart.
I remember a moment that stuck with me — watching tens of young students apply for a U.S. visa to attend a university, tech conference only to get rejected over and over. Meanwhile, his/her peer, equally talented but with a European passport. Same work. Different fate.
What was the difference? Just a document (passport).
I’ve always stated that I rarely see employees leave my company to other companies. They mostly leave in pursue of a passport. Syrians who have lived their entire lives in the Gulf, excelled at everything they did, yet couldn’t attend a university abroad or apply for certain jobs simply because of nationality. It wasn’t about merit. It was about politics, timing, and luck — or the absence of it.
Fair? No. It was just life.
Slumdog Millionaire — Fiction, But Real
When I watched Slumdog Millionaire, it hit me in the gut. A boy from the slums of Mumbai wins a game show, not through luck or privilege, but because of the painful things life threw at him. Every answer he knew came from some form of suffering. That story might’ve been scripted, but I’ve met people whose lives look eerily similar — where survival teaches you more than any school can, and pain becomes your greatest source of knowledge.
We love stories like this because they give us hope. But what we often miss is that the win doesn’t cancel the injustice. It only highlights it.
Even in Business, Fairness Is a Mirage
People often think meritocracy drives success in business. It doesn’t. Not always.
I’ve seen startups with average ideas get funding because they knew the right people. I’ve seen brands go viral for nothing more than gimmicks while meaningful content struggles to gain traction. I’ve seen creators with depth and integrity get overlooked while noise gets amplified.
Sometimes, the most capable team doesn’t get the deal. Sometimes, the most ethical one loses out. And sometimes, no matter how smart or kind or qualified you are — you still don’t win.
That’s the part no one writes LinkedIn posts about.
So What Do We Do?
Do we give up? Do we get bitter? I won’t lie — I’ve felt the frustration. I’ve watched incredible people be blocked by barriers I didn’t face. I’ve had moments where I looked at the system and thought, “This isn’t just broken. It was never built for fairness in the first place.”
But here’s what I’ve learned:
Fairness isn’t guaranteed. But how we respond to unfairness — that’s where our power lies.
We can show up anyway. We can use our privilege to open doors for others. We can offer grace, offer chances, offer mentorship. We can be someone’s unfair advantage.
Because once you realize that life doesn’t owe you anything, every kind gesture becomes sacred, and every success, no matter how small, becomes earned.
Let’s be human
Life is not fair. I’ve lived it. I’ve seen it up close. But maybe fairness isn’t the goal. Maybe the goal is purpose — to create meaning in the mess, to bring light where the system fails, and to keep moving forward with empathy, grit, and clarity.
And maybe the point is to lift someone else when no one lifted you.
I say this knowing I didn’t do it alone. I’m deeply grateful to the people who helped me out, gave me second chances, and believed in me even when I doubted myself. That belief carried me further than luck ever could. And now, it’s my turn to do the same — to pass it on, to open doors, and to be the reason someone else gets their shot.
Because if life isn’t going to be fair… then let’s at least choose to be human.
