Working at Truist often feels less like being part of a team and more like being dropped straight into the Hunger Games. Colleagues are positioned as competitors rather than collaborators, and every day becomes a test of endurance where management and peers alike seem focused on outmaneuvering, undercutting, or suffocating your progress. The company’s glossy slogans about “Purpose” and “Care” ring hollow—just polished propaganda masking a reality where employees quickly learn those words are for external image, not internal practice.
Human Resources, rather than acting as a neutral protector of fairness, feels more like another arm of the Capitol—perfectly aligned with leadership, but not with the people actually fighting in the arena. Meanwhile, Truist quietly disengages from its most loyal workers, even as Bill Rogers and the executives enrich themselves exorbitantly. With each new round of lavish bonuses and raises at the top, it becomes clearer: the sacrifices of employees are little more than the currency funding Bill Rogers and the executives. In this version of the Games, survival means accepting that the system isn’t broken—it was designed this way.