I lost my precious phone late last week on my way home. I had had a very long day.
To crown it all, some merciless long finger proved he needed it more than I did. At first, I fumed, cursed and got mad at anyone I came across, but as time went by, the feeling of freedom started engulfing me. It somehow feels good being unreachable.
Am not declaring the end of dependence on the little communicator, it’s just that the days that followed gave me back what I have missed for years.
The importance of cell-phones is uncountable. I remember the days when one had to travel kilometres and kilometres to check on the parents. If you lived in town and your parents were in the village, you had no choice but to sacrifice a couple of days to go and check on them.
Now even house maids press buttons to ask if their neighbours have lit the imbabura before they go to kurahura. Some women would even kneel down before receiving the phone call to greet their husbands who’ve been away for a long time.
These little gadgets terrorized us enough times when they had just arrived; people would receive a call from the boss and would stand up before picking it up, others would first tuck-in their shirts.
Some guys in security organs would pick the phone and give a sharp salute! Before pressing yes! Now I have no worry that someone is going to call and ask where I am, when am in a wrong place. With a phone it means you’re going to answer the beck’s and calls of bosses, friends and relatives who think you’re their punching bag!
If you think of switching it off, then that’s a crime! Without a phone you can feel human again, no alarms to wake you up! No endless calls of relatives asking you to send them money to dig new latrines, or boss calling you after work to remind you of the importance of the following day’s meeting.
No receiving unwanted short massages telling you how the last meeting of Peters’ wedding is due in an hour, not forgetting the land lord reminding you how your month ends in two days time.
I came to realization that I can do without a phone, am going to be scarce in the coming few weeks. I will be using public or office phones to call the ones I need. No one is going to push me around; it’s like casting off the hand-cuff that’s been on your hands for a long time!
But its absence sometimes is felt, I miss the beeps, but if I had a choice, I would choose to throw it out of my life forever. In the meantime, let me enjoy my freedom, hopefully not at a bigger price.