 A film’s portrayal of quiet parental struggle highlights the unseen emotional labour many endure as financial pressures shift conversations to survival
LATELY, scrolling through social media has felt heavier than usual. On LinkedIn, timelines that were once filled with career milestones and professional achievements now carry a different tone. Many posts are not about moving ahead but about holding on.
People share that they are looking for work, not to climb higher but to stay afloat. They speak about needing something stable, something enough, something to keep the household running.
On Threads, the language is even more raw. People openly offer their time and labour. They volunteer to clean houses, take on short term tasks, do odd jobs or help with anything that will bring in extra income. There is a quiet honesty in these posts – no embellishment, no ambition wrapped in buzzwords, just the reality of trying to make ends meet.
Survival becomes a priority
These everyday digital encounters reveal a shared struggle that cuts across professions and backgrounds. Financial pressure has shifted conversations from aspirations to survival. Stability has become the goal.
For many families, keeping things together emotionally and financially now requires constant effort. These observations stayed with me when I watched Papa Zola The Movie. At its surface, the film tells a simple story: a parent works hard to provide for the family – life is repetitive, money is limited, dreams are modest.
Papa Zola takes on multiple jobs, pushing through exhaustion, with the hope of saving enough for a small family holiday. It is not about luxury or indulgence; it is about wanting to offer a moment of happiness to those he loved.
What makes the story resonate so deeply is not the plot but the emotions that sit beneath it. What the film quietly reveals is that survival is not only physical; it is emotional. And that emotional work is often carried alone.
Emotions beneath the routine
Papa Zola is not portrayed as dramatic or outspoken. His struggles are shown through routine, fatigue and quiet perseverance – the sadness he feels when things do not work out, the frustration of effort that never seems quite enough and the worries he carries without voicing it. These emotions are managed carefully so they do not spill over onto his family.
He keeps himself composed, not because the burden is light, but because those around him rely on that composure. This is emotional labour – the invisible effort of managing fear, frustration and sadness so that others can feel safe.
Frustrations we rarely talk about
Emotional labour is rarely acknowledged in everyday conversations. It is work that has no job title, no overtime pay and no public recognition, yet it sustains families every single day.
It is the work of managing feelings so others feel safe, reassured or protected. It involves holding back frustrations, masking fear and presenting calm even when everything feels uncertain.
Papa Zola performs this labour daily, not because he is taught to, but because he feels responsible for those who depend on him. It is quiet work, often unnoticed, yet essential to how families function.
Many parents live this reality without naming it – they absorb stress privately, they make difficult decisions alone and carry emotional weight so that others do not have to.
Not only a father’s experience
While the character is a father, the emotional truth of the story is not limited to men. Many mothers live this reality too, particularly single mothers. They carry financial responsibility alongside emotional caregiving, they make difficult decisions quietly and reassure their children even when they themselves are unsure. They absorb stress so their families do not have to.
For many mothers and single parents, emotional labour is constant, layered and deeply exhausting, yet rarely seen or spoken about. Parenthood, regardless of gender, often requires emotional endurance long before it demands physical stamina.
The film reflects what many families are experiencing today: rising living costs, stretched incomes, limited choices and people working longer hours or taking on additional work simply to maintain stability.
Why viewers were moved
Perhaps this is why so many viewers found themselves unexpectedly emotional while watching the film. Social media was filled with comments from people who admitted they cried. Colleagues shared that they were moved in ways they did not anticipate.
These reactions were not about animation or nostalgia; they were about recognition. Seeing lived experiences reflected on screen can be powerful. It reminds people that their struggles are shared and that they are not alone in feeling tired, overwhelmed or quietly anxious.
At the same time, it can be confronting; it forces viewers to acknowledge how much emotional weight people carry in silence.
What meaningful animation can do
In a digital environment saturated with content, not all animated stories offer this kind of depth. Some prioritise entertainment without grounding viewers in empathy or responsibility. Others move too quickly, resolving hardship without acknowledging its emotional consequences.
Papa Zola stands out because it allows emotions to exist without a rush to fix it. It gives space for sadness, frustration and hope to coexist. This matters because the media does more than entertain; it shapes how people understand effort, sacrifice and care.
When emotional labour remains invisible, it becomes easier to overlook the human cost of survival. When it is shown, even subtly, it invites empathy and reflection. When we fail to recognise emotional labour, we risk normalising exhaustion and mistaking silence for strength.
For children, stories like this can help build emotional awareness. They learn that effort and care are often hidden behind everyday routines.
For adults, the impact is different but just as important. It offers validation. It says that the exhaustion, the worry and the quiet perseverance are real and worthy of acknowledgment.
Behind every LinkedIn post asking for opportunities, every Threads post offering extra work and every tired parent who still shows up each day, there is emotional labour driven by love and responsibility. These are not small stories; they are the stories that hold families and communities together.
Long after the credits rolled, the story continued to linger. It sharpened my awareness of how much emotional labour exists within ordinary families, carried quietly by parents who rarely have the space to express it.
Stories like this do not demand attention loudly; they stay with us because they feel familiar and because they reflect emotions many people live with every day.
Assoc Prof Dr Tengku Elena Tengku Mahamad is deputy dean (research and industrial linkages) and a senior lecturer in Communication Management and Policy at the Faculty of Communication and Media Studies, Universiti Teknologi Mara, Shah Alam. Comments: letters@thesundaily.com
