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Sony Ericsson phones shone my world in 2008. iPhone and its fiercest rival, Samsung, were all a nobody, mayhap in Africa. They were then carving a niche market for themselves in the region.
Many of us who weren’t tech-savvy during the smartphone evolution rated phones with five stars, if their sound system was good, and possess futuristic aesthetics because, our definition of service quality package was more explicit than implicit.
Throughout my life, I began using a flip LG phone in the first quarter of 2009. It was handed over to me by my older brother who, also got it from his boss-lady. That phone was neither a smartphone nor “yam”. Later, its screen started going off intermittently, I thus couldn’t have had enough of it.
All this while I was looking for an avenue (my outside school hustle wasn’t lucrative anymore) to buy a Sony Ericsson W900 or much better, W850. These two brands of phones from Sony Ericsson were all I knew existed in the world. I love their phones, especially the former. I spent most of my late-night sleep dreaming about it while perchance other students were dreaming about their engineering projects, how to gain admission into the universities etc.,
Rather unfortunate I couldn’t have fulfilled my dream of owning the W900 before I left High School. Since it was deep-rooted in my soul, the later part of 2009 when, we were to represent Greater Accra, in the upcoming Regionals Competition, Hockey discipline, I reinstated the need of owning a W900 willy-nilly.
The training allowance my boss, Mr. Derrick Tamakloe, personally doled to me, I didn’t use on anything. I starved myself so well that I was able to save as much as GH₵100. And please, taking Time Value of Money (TVM) into consideration, GH₵100 in 2009 could be referred as GH₵1000 today. So, undoubtedly, it was enough.
Before the tournament would kick start, we had a break. I was at home to get some few things sorted out. On my way back to camp (Achimota School), I briefly made a stop at Kwame Nkrumah Circle, Accra, purposely to swap a used phone.
Immediately I negotiated to Tip-toe Lane, my eyes caught, among the many things: hawkers, petty traders, buyers, cars, stores, and a caboodle of energetic men who had paraded themselves on the street.
There was this seller who, in particular, noted that I was stealing a gaze at the phones he had brandished. Although I don’t own employees or businesses, he began calling me ‘boss’. . . ‘chairman’, as he stalks at me. He changed the appellation to ‘senior’, when we both knew that he was the oldest. And finally, to ‘daddy’, as if I could give birth to him; he’s in his late thirties whereas I was yet to escape teenage life. “Circle-Boys” for you: they are snakes.
Now that he had zoomed me down, I need to halt peacefully, to have a feel of his W900, the phone for which I had come to town. We finalized everything in haste. I didn’t turn the phone on to see if it was even alive or dead; all I did was give out my GH₵100 plus the used phone to seal the transaction.
Three factors could account for the reason I didn’t do due diligence: it was (1) my first time ever buying (swapping a phone) at Circle, (2) I couldn’t control my emotions after finally owning W900, and (3) I thought every seller truthfully negotiates their terms. Even while in the car to Achimota, I’d look at the phone, pamper it, and put it back to where it came from — my pocket.
When I got to camp, I quickly entered our dormitory. Kwame Blay was around, he was the only person using a Blackberry or so. To authenticate the phone, I sought his expertise. We started turning it on. After many attempts, it was only the interface that showed. The phone went off in no time. We did all we could do but my new Messiah, the W900, seemed dead. Till today that phone has not been resurrected.
Following this indelible incident, I developed a cold reservation towards the Circle Market. Whatever happened was glaringly traditional, not relational marketing. I learnt that sellers are the last to be trusted after Judas. Even if they say they’ve reduced the price, they mean they have rather increased it cannily. There’s no way I’ll go back to buy from Circle.
But the bigger blame goes to the late “Scizo”. I came to know about W900 because of him. When the phone was newly launched, he bought the black type. Anytime he came to our boss’ (Frederick Neils Hesse) place, he’d be playing some good tunes on it. I didn’t know that it wasn’t easy to live a flashy life when one has not met the basic necessities of life until Circle-boys had bitten me.
