The Banker Who Never See the Sun: The Silent Global Crisis Behind the World’s Most Exhausted Profession

I. A Cry From Inside the System

It begins with a post - shaky, emotional, unfiltered - buried in the middle of a private Facebook group for Egyptian bankers:

“إحنا لحد امتى هنفضل كدا؟ ليه البنك مبقاش خدمي زي زمان؟ ليه بيوصلونا ان زمايل لينا يضحكوا على العملاء عشان التارجت؟ الموظفين هتموت من الضغط.”

“How long will we remain like this? Why is the bank no longer service-oriented as it used to be? Why are we pushed to deceive customers for targets? Employees are dying from the pressure.”

There it was - raw, desperate, and painfully honest.
 Not polished. Not cautious.
 Just the truth.

Moments later, another comment:

“ليه امشي كل يوم بالليل ومشوفش الشمس؟ بقيت بفكر هموت امتى عشان ارتاح.”
 “Why do I leave work every night without seeing the sun? I’m starting to wonder when I will die just to find peace.”

Then a final one - a confession, and a warning:

“فضل قرار الإنسان ممكن ياخده في حياته انه يشتري نفسه وراحة باله. سيبت البنك والدنيا مشيت. اكتشفت ان في حياة تانية.”

“The best decision a person can make is to buy back his life and peace of mind. I left the bank. Life moved on. I discovered there is another life out there.”

These are not isolated sayings.
They are not “weakness” or “complaints” or “laziness” or “drama.”

These are symptoms of a profession that has quietly entered a global breakdown.

And whether it is Cairo, New York, London, Mumbai, Dubai, Manila, or Johannesburg - the words are the same.
 The accents change, but the pain does not.

Bankers are collapsing.
Silently.
Collectively.
And dangerously.

This is their story - and ours.

II. The World That Created the Modern Banker

The global economy today is a machine built on speed, pressure, and perpetual expansion. For decades, banks were the engine of trust - places where customers felt protected, employees felt respected, and communities found support.

Banks were service institutions.

Then came the neoliberal wave of the 1980s and 1990s:

• deregulation,
• privatization,
• competition at all costs,
• profit over people,
• numbers over lives.

Customer service turned into sales.
Advisors turned into targets.
Employees turned into KPIs.
Human beings turned into production units.

The modern banker is the product of a world economy that no longer grows by creating value - but by squeezing human capacity until it breaks.

And break it does.

III. “Target Culture”: The Elegant Name for Psychological Violence

Inside many banks - not only in Egypt but around the world - the most dangerous word is simple:

Targets.

But calling them “targets” is a linguistic trick.
 A softer word for:

• threats,
• quotas,
• pressure,
• humiliation,
• postponed vacations,
• missed lunches,
• panic attacks,
• sales practices that cross ethical lines,
• the fear of being fired every single day.

In interviews conducted across American, British, Indian, and Middle Eastern banking sectors, the same themes reappear.

A banker in New Jersey said:

“We are told to ‘find creative ways’ to hit impossible numbers. Everyone knows what it means: stretch the truth, push products clients don’t need, hide fees, upsell emotions. If you don’t, you’re punished.”

An employee in Mumbai shared:

“They want you to smile at customers while your stomach is burning with anxiety. And if you don’t hit the target, your humiliation is public.”

A teller in Cairo said:

“We were instructed to call customers during funerals, during Ramadan iftar, during their chemotherapy sessions, during anything - because the number must be achieved.”

A wealth advisor in London said:

“If you don’t meet the quarterly target, they treat you like you’re disposable. You can carry the whole department for a year and lose your job over one bad month.”

It is the same illness in different languages.

This is not “work pressure.”
It is psychological violence in corporate clothing.

IV. The Dark Hours: When Bankers Stop Seeing the Sun

One of the heartbreaking lines from the Egyptian group was:

“ليه أمشي كل يوم بالليل ومشوفش الشمس؟”
 “Why do I leave every night and never see the sun?”

Every banker immediately understands this.

The world thinks banking is a luxurious job, filled with air-conditioned desks, coffee machines, polished shoes, and financial stability.

But behind the glass doors:

• 10–12 hour workdays are normal.
• Working weekends is common.
• Lunch breaks are a luxury.
• Burnout is mandatory.
• Sunlight is optional.

The banker is one of the only professions where you enter in daylight and leave in darkness - for years.

When you do this long enough:

Your body forgets what morning feels like.
Your mind forgets what rest feels like.
Your heart forgets what silence feels like.
Your family forgets what you look like when you are happy.

This is why so many bankers say the same chilling sentence:

“I’m exhausted in ways I cannot explain.”

V. The Financial Irony: The People Who Sell Stability Don’t Have Stability

The paradox is cruel.

Bankers sell:

• savings products,
• insurance plans,
• financial safety nets,
• wealth management services,
• retirement accounts,
• risk protection.

Yet the people selling these products often live:

• paycheck to paycheck,
• dependent on incentives,
• terrified of losing their job,
• drowning in credit card debt,
• unable to save,
• unable to rest,
• unable to breathe.

Because when the target system becomes the religion of the bank, even the professionals who understand risk better than anyone cannot protect their own lives from the institution they serve.

It is a poetic tragedy - and a silent one.

VI. A Global Epidemic of Burnout (And Why Banking Is Ground Zero)

Burnout is not “being tired.”
 It is the collapse of the internal engine that makes life feel manageable.

Bankers face a unique combination of:

• emotional labor
• ethical dilemmas
• customer aggression
• impossible targets
• job insecurity
• surveillance
• public evaluation
• competitive ranking
• long hours
• limited breaks
• no work-life balance
• moral discomfort

No human nervous system was built to survive this.

In the U.S. alone, multiple surveys show:

• Banking is among the top 5 professions with highest burnout levels.
• Depression rates inside financial institutions are 40% higher than national averages.
• Work hours exceed 55 hours weekly for many roles - a level the World Health Organization considers a danger to human life.

In Egypt, India, South Africa, and Southeast Asia, the pressure is often worse, because job alternatives are limited - meaning the fear of losing one’s job becomes a daily silent threat.

The result?

Banking is producing a generation of emotionally exhausted, physically drained, morally conflicted professionals who no longer recognize themselves in the mirror.

VII. “Just Two O’Clock Again”: The Loss of the Old Banking Ethic

The Egyptian comment about returning to “working until 2 PM like the old days” speaks to something deeper than schedules.
 It speaks to an era when banking was:

• respectable,
• service-oriented,
• oriented toward stability and community,
• about relationships,
• not about conversion rates.

Old-school banking taught:

• integrity,
• trust,
• fairness,
• customer care,
• responsibility,
• calm professionalism.

Today’s banking teaches:

• sell what you can,
• push what you must,
• hit the number or lose your job,
• smile while you suffocate,
• pretend everything is fine,
• sacrifice your life for quarterly growth.

This shift wasn’t accidental.
 It was engineered.

Because banking today is no longer about community.
It is about corporate survival - fueled by an economic system built on debt, consumption, and extraction.

Banks no longer serve societies.
Employees no longer serve customers.
Both now serve the numbers.

And numbers do not care if you collapse.

VIII. The Ethical Crime: When Banks Teach Employees to Deceive

The Egyptian post asked:

“ليه بيوصلونا ان زمايل لينا يضحكوا على العملاء عشان التارجت؟”
 “Why are we pushed to deceive customers to hit targets?”

This is one of the most painful confessions in modern banking.

Around the world, banks have faced scandals for:

• hidden fees,
• mis-sold products,
• forced insurance,
• manipulated information,
• pressure tactics,
• undocumented consent,
• misleading promises.

These practices do not emerge from individual corruption.
 They are symptoms of a diseased system where:

ethical behavior is punished
 and
 aggressive behavior is rewarded.

A banker in Toronto said:

“We were trained to ‘create needs’ for customers. That’s a polite way of saying: make them believe they need something they don’t.”

In Manila:

“If you don’t push insurance, you are called ‘dead weight.’ If you do, you are rewarded - even if the customer can’t afford it.”

In Cairo:

“We are told: get the signature first, explain later.”

In London:

“Our ethics training was a formality. Our sales meetings were the real culture.”

The system makes good people do things they feel ashamed of.

And every day, more bankers whisper:

“I don’t want to lie anymore.”

IX. The Cost: The Banker Who Thinks About Dying

One of the Egyptian comments said:

“بقيت بفكر هموت امتى عشان ارتاح.”
 “I started wondering when I will die just to find peace.”

This sentence is not dramatic.
It is not poetic.
It is not exaggerated.

It is a direct result of:

• prolonged stress,
• loss of control,
• chronic humiliation,
• fear-driven environments,
• physical exhaustion,
• mental collapse,
• moral injury.

Suicidal ideation in banking is rising globally.
Japan calls banking deaths karoshi - death by overwork.
South Korea reports a spike in financial-sector suicides.
The UK Financial Conduct Authority is studying mental health crises in the industry.
In Egypt, several tragic cases have surfaced quietly in recent years.

The world is witnessing a slow, quiet epidemic - one hidden behind suits, desks, and silent tears.

X. The Banker Who Broke Free - And Lived

The most powerful comment in the group was the one from the ex-banker:

“سيبت البنك والدنيا مشيت.”
 “I left the bank and life moved on.”

“اكتشفت ان في حياة تانية.”
 “I discovered another life exists.”

Not wealthier.
Not easier.
Not glamorous.

Just human.

A life where:

• breakfast has taste again,
• sunlight has color again,
• anxiety doesn’t wake you up at night,
• your child’s laughter isn’t a stranger’s sound,
• you don’t check your emails while showering,
• your heart stops racing whenever the manager calls,
• your dignity isn’t tied to a monthly score,
• your worth isn’t measured by cold numbers,
• you can breathe without guilt.

Around the world, thousands of bankers tell the same story:

“Leaving felt like jumping off a cliff.
 But staying felt like dying slowly.”

When they leave, almost none regret it.
 That should terrify us.

XI. Why This Is Happening Everywhere (Not Just in Egypt)

Because the global economy is strained.
 Growth has slowed.
 Inflation is high.
 Margins are thin.
 Competition is brutal.
 Automation threatens jobs.
 Digital banking reduces human interaction.

So banks compensate by turning their human employees into machines.

The formula is universal:

• more pressure,
• fewer staff,
• higher targets,
• lower salaries (adjusted to inflation),
• stricter monitoring,
• shorter deadlines,
• greater punishment,
• less humanity.

This is not an Egyptian problem.
 It is a global economic crisis wearing the mask of normalcy.

XII. The Human Body Keeps Score

When you treat a human like a number, the body rebels.

Doctors report:

• rising blood pressure,
• panic attacks,
• skin disorders,
• insomnia,
• digestion problems,
• migraines,
• hormonal imbalances,
• depression,
• burnout syndrome.

Psychiatrists see:

• derealization,
• emotional numbness,
• depersonalization,
• suicidal ideation.

Families see:

• a parent who is never home,
• a spouse who is always exhausted,
• a friend who is always too tired to meet,
• a person who becomes a ghost of themselves.

Banks see:

• performance metrics.

No wonder so many bankers whisper:

“I’m alive but I’m not living.”

XIII. The System Isn’t Broken - It Was Designed This Way

The tragedy is not that the banking system is malfunctioning.
 The tragedy is that this is the function.

The system relies on:

• fear,
• exhaustion,
• insecurity,
• competition,
• desperation.

Because these create:

• higher sales,
• longer work hours,
• fewer resignations,
• more compliance,
• lower resistance.

It is easier to manage exhausted people than empowered ones.

This is not accidental.
It is structural.

The machine works exactly as intended.
It just breaks people in the process.

XIV. A Profession That Forgot the People Who Make It Run

Behind every bank’s success story is a hidden army:

• tellers who skip lunch,
• relationship managers who lie awake at night,
• call center agents screamed at daily,
• sales officers judged by monthly numbers,
• back-office staff whose work is invisible,
• managers trapped between corporate demands and human empathy.

They hold the system together.
And the system holds none of them.

They are the backbone of the economy.
Yet their own lives are collapsing privately.

This is the crime of modern banking:
The institution that manages money does not manage mercy.

XV. What Needs to Change (If We Want to Save People)

1. Banking must return to being service-oriented, not sales-obsessed.

Targets should be tools, not weapons.

2. Mental health programs must be mandatory, not decorative.

Anonymous counseling, stress management, and psychological support must be real - not corporate slides.

3. Working hours must be humane.

No human being should lose daylight for a profession that is supposed to support life, not consume it.

4. Ethical sales must be protected, not punished.

Whistleblowing channels must protect employees, not destroy them.

5. Leadership must understand humanity, not only spreadsheets.

Empathy is a management skill, not a weakness.

6. Employees must regain dignity.

A banker is not a machine.
A banker is not a KPI.
A banker is not a target.
A banker is a person.

XVI. The Final Question: How Much Is a Life Worth?

The banking world likes to talk about valuation - of assets, of capital, of investments.

But here is a question banks are terrified to face:

What is the valuation of the human heart?
The human mind?
The human dignity?
The human soul?

What is the price of a life spent without sunlight?
What is the cost of a childhood missed?
What does a panic attack cost?
A sleepless night?
A devastated marriage?
A silent depression?
A buried suicide note?

Who pays for all of this?

Because the truth is simple:

The employee pays.
The customer pays.
The family pays.
Society pays.

Everyone pays - except the system that causes it.

XVII. A Quiet Revolution Already Started

Across continents, bankers are quitting:

Not because they are weak.
But because they are awake.

They finally understand:

No salary is worth your sanity.
No target is worth your dignity.
No bank is worth your life.

The Egyptian banker who left and found peace is not alone.
He represents a global awakening:

“I bought back my life.
 And it was the best investment I ever made.”

XVIII. A Message to Every Banker Reading This

If your heart is tired, it’s not your fault.
If your mind is broken, it’s not because you failed.
If your soul feels hollow, it’s because the system is designed to empty you.

You are not supposed to live like this.
You are not supposed to feel like this.
You are not supposed to lose yourself for a job that would replace you in 24 hours.

You deserve sunlight.
You deserve peace.
You deserve dignity.
You deserve a life.
A real one.

And if you choose to walk away one day - it will not be the end.

It will be the beginning.

XIX. The Last Word

Banking is not evil.
Finance is not evil.
Money is not evil.

But when a profession loses its soul, its people lose theirs too.

And until the system changes - until targets stop being gods and humans stop being sacrifices - the world will continue producing exhausted bankers who whisper:

“I’m alive, but I’m not living.”

This article is a reminder.

A reminder that behind suits and screens,
behind smiles and signatures,
behind professionalism and polished desks…

There are human beings trying their hardest
 not to break.

Some already did.
Some are breaking now.
Some will break soon.

Unless we choose to change the story.

And we must.

For them.
For us.
For the world.