We're in a situation where talented, motivated school leavers and

In the quiet sorrow and sharp truth of her words, Jameela Jamil speaks for an entire generation when she says: “We’re in a situation where talented, motivated school leavers and graduates can send off a hundred CVs and not get a reply, and where a trip to the Job Centre is depressing rather than inspirational. And you know what, that just feels wrong.” Her voice carries not anger alone, but a deep ache for justice — a recognition that something sacred has been broken. For what is more disheartening than a world where hopeful youth must beg for acknowledgment, where ambition meets silence, and where institutions meant to uplift instead crush the spirit?

In the ancient world, to labor was not merely to earn bread, but to fulfill one’s purpose — the calling of the soul through the craft of the hands. The potter, the scholar, the warrior, the poet — all were bound by the dignity of work. To be unseen, therefore, was to be unmade. Jameela’s lament arises from this same timeless anguish: the despair that comes when human effort goes unanswered. For when the young — bright-eyed and eager — are met not with guidance but indifference, society commits a silent betrayal against its own future.

Consider the story of Diogenes, the philosopher who walked through Athens with a lantern, searching for an honest man. His journey was not one of cynicism but of hope — and yet, as he searched, he found few willing to meet his gaze. So too do today’s graduates wander the modern city with glowing screens and hopeful hearts, seeking opportunity, only to encounter closed doors and hollow systems. They are told to “dream big,” but their dreams echo in a chamber where no one listens. The Job Centre, meant to be a beacon of second chances, too often becomes a monument to lost faith.

Jameela Jamil’s words are born of compassion and clarity — she does not speak as a politician but as a witness. She sees the waste of human potential, the quiet corrosion of enthusiasm, and calls it what it is: wrong. Her statement is both moral and emotional. It reminds us that progress cannot be measured merely by the abundance of technology or wealth, but by the way we treat those who are beginning their journeys. If the ladder of opportunity has been pulled up, then no amount of rhetoric can mask the injustice of the climb.

In the ancient kingdoms of Egypt, the scribes and builders were honored not because they were perfect, but because they contributed. The Pharaohs knew that no monument could rise without the hands of many. Likewise, our world must remember that its future rests not in the powerful few, but in the motivated many who stand ready to work, to learn, and to serve. When such souls are ignored, the entire civilization weakens. For no flame, however bright, can burn forever without new torches to carry it forward.

The lesson, then, is both simple and profound: recognition is nourishment. To respond, to encourage, to offer guidance — these are acts of social responsibility. Each reply to a young seeker, each word of faith, is a thread that binds generations together. To ignore them is to allow the tapestry to unravel. We must rebuild a culture where effort is seen, where institutions inspire rather than intimidate, and where success is shared, not hoarded.

Therefore, let those who lead, hire, or teach remember Jameela’s truth. Reach out to the unheard. See in the faces of the jobless not weakness, but waiting strength. Restore to work its sacred dignity. For when the young are inspired, the world itself is renewed — and when they are dismissed, the fire of progress dims. The wrong that Jameela names can yet be made right — if each of us becomes a voice that answers, instead of one that remains silent.