November 30, 2025

Immigrant Baffled Americans Need Apps to Remember to Drink Water

West African discovers hydration became subscription service requiring notifications

When Basic Survival Needs Require Technology

SAN DIEGO, CA – Yaa Osei watched her American coworker’s phone buzz with a notification: “Time to hydrate! ??” The 26-year-old from Ghana stared at the screen, then at her coworker, then back at the screen, trying to process how humans evolved for millions of years drinking water when thirsty but Americans need push notifications. “You have an app that reminds you to drink water?” Osei asked slowly. “Yes!” her coworker said proudly. “It tracks my intake and reminds me throughout the day. I was so dehydrated before I got it.” Osei’s follow-up question: “Were you thirsty?” Her coworker seemed confused by the question. “I mean, maybe? But I didn’t realize it.” Osei realized Americans had outsourced their own bodies’ signals to smartphones.

In Accra, Osei’s family drank water when thirsty—a system that worked for their entire evolutionary history without apps, subscriptions, or notifications. In San Diego, her coworkers have apps tracking water intake, reminder systems prompting hydration, and entire wellness philosophies around drinking enough water as if thirst isn’t a built-in biological signal humans have had since before they were humans. “Your body literally tells you when you need water,” Osei explained. “It’s called thirst. It’s free. It works. Why are you paying $4.99 monthly to a tech company to tell you what your body is already telling you for free?”

When Listening to Your Body Becomes an App Feature

According to data from the app economy, health and wellness apps generate billions annually, with hydration reminder apps among the most popular. Osei discovered her coworkers trust apps more than their own biological signals. “The app says I need to drink now,” her coworker said, not thirsty, forcing down water because her phone told her to. “But are you actually thirsty?” Osei asked. “The app knows better,” her coworker insisted. Osei’s observation: “You’ve outsourced your internal awareness to a tech company. Your body says ‘I’m fine’ but your phone says ‘drink’ so you drink. You’re trusting algorithms over millennia of biological evolution that specifically designed a signal—thirst—to tell you when you need water. But sure, let an app override your body. What could go wrong?”

Jerry Seinfeld said, “Why do they call it a building if it’s already built?” Osei wants to know why they call it a hydration reminder if your body already reminds you it’s called being thirsty. Her coworker’s app tracks ounces consumed, sends congratulatory messages for hydration goals achieved, and creates graphs showing water intake trends. “You’re gamifying drinking water,” Osei marveled. “Something every animal on Earth does instinctively without achievement badges or progress bars. You’ve turned basic survival into content. Next you’ll have an app reminding you to breathe.”

The $50 Smart Water Bottle That Knows When You’re Thirsty Better Than You Do

Osei discovered smart water bottles—$50+ bottles that connect to apps, track intake, and light up to remind you to drink. Her coworker owns three. “It’s an investment in health,” her coworker explained while showing off a bottle that literally glows when you haven’t drunk enough water. “It’s a bottle,” Osei corrected. “That costs $50. And nags you. For $5 you can get a regular bottle that holds water without judging you. The water tastes the same. The hydration is identical. You just won’t get LED reminders that you have a mouth and should use it.”

Dave Chappelle said, “Modern problems require modern solutions.” America’s modern problem is people forgot how to drink water without technological intervention. The modern solution is a $50 bottle with Bluetooth connectivity that solves a problem that doesn’t exist. Osei’s grandmother has drunk water for 74 years without apps or smart bottles. She’s extremely well-hydrated and $50 richer than Americans with LED-equipped hydration systems.

The most absurd feature: the bottle sends notifications to your phone if you leave it somewhere. “You have a water bottle with Find My iPhone,” Osei said. “For water. Because water is so valuable you need GPS tracking. No—wait—because you’re so disconnected from basic objects that you need technology to remember where you put bottles. This isn’t health tech. This is proof that technology has made you dumber about basic tasks.”

When Wellness Culture Monetizes Biological Functions

Osei realized hydration apps are just one symptom of wellness culture monetizing being alive. Apps remind you to drink water, breathe deeply, stretch, move, sleep—all things humans did automatically for millions of years. “You’ve pathologized normal body functions,” she told her coworker who has seven wellness apps. “Your body knows how to be a body. But you don’t trust it. So you pay tech companies to tell you when to drink, move, sleep, breathe. You’re outsourcing being human to apps, then wondering why you feel disconnected from your body. You are disconnected. By choice. You’ve hired digital intermediaries to manage your own biological signals.”

Chris Rock said, “You know the world is going crazy when the best rapper is a white guy.” Osei knows the world is crazy when people need apps to remember to drink water but can remember every TikTok dance trend. Her coworker forgets to hydrate without reminders but remembers every Marvel movie plot point. “You have selective awareness,” Osei diagnosed. “You remember entertainment and forget survival. This is what happens when comfort makes biology optional. You’ve never been thirsty enough that water was genuinely necessary, so you forgot that drinking is important. Now you need apps to remember what your ancestors never forgot because forgetting meant death.”

The Hydration Goal That Came From Instagram Not Biology

Osei’s coworker aims for 100 ounces of water daily—a number from a wellness influencer, not a doctor or her actual body’s needs. “Why 100?” Osei asked. “That’s the goal,” her coworker said. “But why? Are you thirsty after 80 ounces?” “No.” “Then why force it?” “Because the app says 100.” Osei’s diagnosis: “You’re ignoring your body’s actual signals—I’m satiated—to hit arbitrary numbers from strangers on the internet. You’re drinking when not thirsty to satisfy an app. This is the opposite of listening to your body. This is bullying your body with data.”

Bill Burr said, “I’m not going to apologize for being right.” Osei’s not apologizing for thinking Americans have overcomplicated drinking water. “Drink when thirsty. That’s the entire system. Tested by evolution. Proven effective. Free. But you need apps, goals, trackers, and smart bottles because you don’t trust the biological system you inherited. You trust tech companies more than your own body. And those tech companies are selling you solutions to problems they invented—you’re not hydrated enough! Better track it! Better pay us! Meanwhile, you’re fine. You’ve always been fine. But ‘fine’ doesn’t sell subscriptions, so they convinced you that drinking water is complicated and requires technology.”

The breaking point came when Osei’s coworker’s app congratulated her for reaching her hydration streak—30 consecutive days of drinking enough water. “You got a trophy for drinking water for a month,” Osei said. “Something toddlers do without awards. You’re celebrating basic survival functions like achievements. Next you’ll get badges for breathing consistently or congratulations for successfully not dying. You’ve turned being alive into a game where tech companies give you points for remembering to be human.”

When Thirst Becomes a Notification Not a Sensation

Osei tested her coworker: “Are you thirsty right now?” “I don’t know, let me check my app.” She checked. The app said she was on track. “That’s not an answer,” Osei said. “I asked if you feel thirsty. Not what your app says. Check your actual body.” Her coworker paused, confused by the request. “I… I guess not?” “Then you don’t need water,” Osei concluded. “But the app will remind me in an hour.” “But you won’t be thirsty in an hour either if you’re not thirsty now. The app isn’t responding to your needs—you’re responding to the app’s schedule. You’ve inverted the relationship. The app is the master. You’re following orders from a hydration algorithm.”

Amy Schumer said, “I’m not saying I’m lazy, I’m saying I’m energy efficient.” Americans aren’t body efficient—they’re body-ignoring. They’ve delegated awareness to technology, trusting apps over sensations. Osei drinks water when thirsty—revolutionary, apparently. Her coworkers drink water when notified, regardless of thirst, because the app said so. “You’re not hydrating based on need,” Osei observed. “You’re hydrating based on schedule. This is compliance, not health. You’re obeying your phone, not nourishing your body.”

The Water Challenge That’s Actually Just Drinking Water

Osei’s office participated in a “30-Day Water Challenge”—drink a gallon daily, post proof on social media, win prizes. “You’re competing at drinking water,” Osei marveled. “You’ve turned basic biological necessity into a contest. With prizes. For doing what your body needs anyway. This is like having a ‘Breathing Challenge’ where you try to breathe every day for a month. Congratulations, you didn’t die. Here’s a trophy.”

Kevin Hart said, “Everybody wants to be famous, but nobody wants to do the work.” Everybody wants to be healthy, but nobody wants to just listen to their body and drink when thirsty like humans have done forever. They want challenges, apps, trackers, goals, communities, hashtags. #Hydration. #WaterGoals. #DrinkMoreWater. “You’ve made drinking water into content,” Osei said. “You don’t just drink—you post about drinking. You document your water intake for strangers who don’t care. This isn’t health—it’s performance. You’re performing wellness for social media while your actual body is screaming ‘I’m literally fine, please stop forcing water on me because an app told you to.'”

When Osei suggested people could simply drink when thirsty and skip the apps, her coworkers looked skeptical. “But how would I know if I’m drinking enough?” they asked. “Your body tells you,” Osei repeated. “If you’re thirsty, drink. If you’re not thirsty, don’t. This is not complicated. Babies understand this system. Animals understand this system. Your ancestors understood this system. But you need an app because you’ve lost touch with basic biological signals. You don’t trust yourself anymore. You trust tech companies who profit from your distrust.”

When Basic Health Becomes a Wellness Industry

The final straw came when Osei discovered wellness coaches charging $200/hour to help people “optimize hydration”—literally teaching adults to drink water. “You’re paying someone to tell you to drink water,” she said to her coworker who’d booked a session. “What else are they going to teach you? How to blink? How to digest food? These are autonomous body functions. They happen automatically. You’re paying for information your body provides free.”

Trevor Noah said, “In Africa, we don’t have the luxury of forgetting how to be human.” Americans have the luxury of outsourcing every basic function to apps and coaches and forgetting how bodies work. Osei’s theory: “You’ve become so disconnected from physical sensations that you need external signals to tell you what your body already knows. You’re numb to thirst but responsive to notifications. This isn’t progress—it’s regression disguised as optimization. You’re less aware of your body than people 1,000 years ago who had no technology. They drank when thirsty. You drink when buzzed. Evolution spent millions of years developing thirst. Tech companies spent 5 years convincing you thirst isn’t enough—you need an app. And you believed them.”

When asked if she’ll ever download hydration apps, Osei laughed while drinking water because she was thirsty, not because her phone told her to. “Never,” she said. “I’ll continue trusting the biological system that’s kept humans alive for millions of years. I’ll drink when thirsty. Revolutionary, I know. You people have overcomplicated the simplest act—drinking water—and turned it into an industry. Apps, bottles, challenges, coaches, trackers, goals, communities. For water. Which you need anyway. Which your body tells you when you need. But you’ve decided your body is wrong and apps are right. You’re spending money to override your own biology. Back home, we call that stupidity. Here, you call it wellness. The water is the same. The hydration is identical. The difference is you’re paying tech companies to tell you what your mouth already knows—you’re thirsty. Drink. That’s it. That’s the entire system. But that doesn’t generate subscription revenue, so they convinced you it’s complicated. It’s not. You’re just bad at being human now.”

SOURCE: Bohiney Magazine (Aisha Muharrar)

DATE: 11/19/2025

Aisha Muharrar

Aisha Muharrar, Comedian and Satirical Journalism

View all posts by Aisha Muharrar →

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