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A day without my phone

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Fri, 6 Nov 2015 Source: Debby A. Yemeh

It is only normal for humans to forget, but it is never been normal for me to go a day without my phone, talk about whatsapp, Facebook, Twitter, and a picture updates every hour on Instagram.

On that faithful day, I was supposed to start my internship with ASK Africa Books, a publishing company. I had a sleepless night, tossing and turning, and woke up with red eyes.

The landlady of my rented apartment had come to inform me earlier that I had to finish paying my rent so I was not in my best of moods. I, therefore, asked my roommate to lock the door and bring out my bag, while I paid her because as I had heard, landladies in Accra were aggressive about their rent.

After I paid her, the landlady became good friends with me, smiling and asking me how my parents were doing. I was a little taken aback by this, but of course money has always served as a bonding agent.

I took my bag from my roommate and we stepped out together. We had a hard time getting a trotro to work as most of them were full, but alas we were able to get one.

After I alighted, I made an attempt to take out my phone just to see the number of messages and missed calls I had. My hand swooped into the bag and came up empty.

I looked into the bag and saw nothing, no phone, just my purse. I would have gone back to the house to retrieve it, but it was already 7:30 a.m., and I was supposed to report at exactly 8:00 a.m.

I spent a good five minutes deliberating on whether to go back, sacrificing a first good impression of being punctual to retrieve my phone or report early without my phone.

How could I survive a day without my phone? My heart was heavy. I, however, chose the latter.

I almost regretted that decision because, even when I got there, there was no one present. I had to sit and wait for almost 40 minutes, after which a man came and introduced himself as Mike.

Mike told me he was working in the company and enlightened me about the organisation while I waited. The in-charge arrived shortly. He said he would have to interview me briefly and on the spot. I started perspiring.

Fortunately for me, I was able to answer most of the questions, and according to him, to his satisfaction, all thanks to the conversation I had with Mike.

After this, the in-charge gave me an orientation with regards to the rules and ethics of the organisation, as well as my rights and obligations within the organisation. Basically, I was going to be a sales person.

I started work with the determination to do my best and please my employer. I smiled and served customers, answered their questions to the best of my knowledge or contacted the permanent workers for help. During lunch break, I was reminded once again of not having my phone with me, when Mike saw me and asked for my number.

I would impulsively dig into my purse for my phone and remember. I had to sit down feeling dejected and picking at my food, all the time, day dreaming about my phone

All of a sudden, I was joined by a bubbly group of people who came to sit by me, chatting away. They raised so many interesting topics which I could relate to, making me contribute to their discussion.

Even though they constantly used their phones, the conversation made it easier for me to forget that I was missing my phone badly. After the lunch break, my new friends bid me farewell, and I headed back to the office.

After everything, the in-charge said “well done on your first day.

The customers commended your work, and I’m happy you are not one of those employees who are so caught up in the internet that they don’t even think about physically interacting with others’

‘Everyone should be more like you’ ‘Thank you’ I replied not forgetting the irony of it all and yet feeling swollen-headed, he handed me a GH¢ 50.

‘Use this as your transportation’ he added. I murmured my thanks and left for the house. As I walked out of the office, I knew I wouldn’t have received such recommendations if I had carried my phone to work.

Columnist: Debby A. Yemeh