IT DIARY: ENTRY 25
ENDINGS?
A writer once said, “Don’t date me, I’m a writer. You’ll break my heart and I’ll write a story about it.” While I don’t know who said or when, the saying serves to explain the story I’m about to tell.
When I heard I’d be going to UNILAG to meet with my IT supervisor from school, I knew I was up for an adventure. Being on night duty, I didn’t even have to excuse myself from work during the day. I had plans to write about it though I was not yet sure what lay ahead. I looked forward to meeting friends from school there as well — it would be like connecting after school. Fate did agree with me on the count of having an adventure, but the type it had in mind, I would never have agreed to.
I had just boarded a danfo to the popular Yaba after talking to my friend who said the road was in gridlock due to the President’s scheduled visit (although how that differs from the normal Lagos traffic, I did not yet realize). The conductor did not stick to one price when I asked him how much would get me to my destination and I found this suspicious (coupled with the fact that I couldn’t place the Yoruba he spoke, and there was just 3 or 4 of us in the vehicle), hence I asked to alight, saying I did not wish to go further.
The conductor agreed without argument, much to my increased suspicion and I rushed to get down. Halfway in mid-air, I felt an emptiness begin to engulf my pocket as one of my most prized possessions was slipped out by skilled fingers. Time slowed down for my brain as painful realization unclouded my mind, sadly my body reaction was a whole lot slower. The moment my feet touched solid ground, I spun with a reaction time that I didn’t even realize I had in me. It was then I understood this was no mere pilfering; it was a well-planned operation, because before I could even turn, the danfo has zoomed off, and with it, my sweet, precious Tecno Camon 12. Curse Lagos traffic for not being there the one time I needed it!!!
Within the next 10 minutes, I went through the 5 stages of grief;
Denial:
“Did they just steal my phone? No, no, no, no, no,” I found myself yelling in the middle of the road. I opened my bag to search, half-expecting to see that I actually kept the phone there and this was all just in my head. That was futile. Then I started to run in the direction, hoping against hope to unlock my connection to the speedforce and catch the bus before they hit their next stop. As was expected by one still limited by the weakness of man, and with largely no history in sprints or marathons, I burned out.
Anger:
“F**k, f*******k, f************k!!!!!!!”, I yelled again and again, drawing the attention of passers-by. However, at that point, I could care less. “How the f**k did I let this happen?!”. I wanted to hit something, anything. I began to imagine a hundred different way to impale those twats if I ever got my hands on the (Pfft! As if…). “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrggghhhhh!”
Bargaining:
This stage lasted the least duration.
“Lord, let it just be that the phone fell and the conductor will bring it back.”
As soon as I said that out, I let out a laugh. “Oh, shit!”
Depression:
I started to think of all plans I had, all the money I’d been trying to save up. I thought of all my needs and felt them all drop 5 places on my scale of preference as the need for a new phone would take the top 5 spots. I thought of the so many memorable photos and documents I’d not yet backed up. Curse network speed for slowing down my backup process. nearly 30 months worth of WhatsApp chats gone, discussions with possible business clients, stalled. I would no longer be able to work with the Lumen social media team. Read-list would have to wait till my next phone to restore, elsewise it was gone. Laid out plans I may or may not have followed eventually. With every one of those I recalled, I felt the pain grow. Then it reached elastic limit, yield point, breaking point, and then it snapped. Thank you, Lord Hooke!
Acceptance:
“Well, at least my Big Bang Theory is still on my laptop,” I though while letting out a faint smile, which grew to a short fit a laughter. Such a public mood swing would have made The Joker jealous, I’m sure. All of a sudden, I became thankful for the files I’d backed up. I remembered how I’d been going through all my photos in the past days, how I wanted to take a break from social media around this time and now the universe had ensured that in all certainty. All of a sudden, a stream of foreshadowing events flooded my memory. I could not stop myself from laughing.
To go home or to head to UNILAG without the help of Google maps? Ahead, it is. The rest of my journey, was filled with asking questions, angry conductors, unnecessarily long routes and a thankful heart that I had an idea of where in UNILAG I wanted to go. I tried to think of who I called call without my contact list when I remembered I’d called George Akor so many times in 100L that I had his phone number in my subconscious. I would beg someone to lend me their phone, call him and ask him to send Emmanuel Ugo’s phone number there so I could beg the next person to let me call Emma.
While I was trying to locate the least scary face, I found I’d wandered right to my destination. I knew it because I saw Emma up ahead, waving at me in a manner Kevin Hart would be proud of. Hail the ol’ father for guiding my steps.
At the end of the day, after over 16 hours of consideration, I have concluded that perhaps my internship diary has come to an unnatural end. Without my handy device to write wherever I go, and with little time on my hands, I may not have a choice.
It was fun while it lasted, I hoped I could do more, and I definitely would miss this. Writing has become a sort of stress outlet for me. Perhaps I’d return to the scroll and quill days; I do not know. Until then, until you hear from me again, until we connect again…
Be well.
#MyInternshipDiary
#LasgidiIntern
