Diary of millennial addicted to screen

The day before the assignment, I informed my parents and siblings that I would be off air. PHOTO|FILE| NATION MEDIA GROUP

What you need to know:

  • I’m a typical millennial. My mobile phone is like an extension of me. I make plans, my phone makes sure that I execute them.
  • My phone and I are like a stack of spoons. I’m the smaller spoon.

"I have an assignment for you. Switch off your mobile phone for 72 hours and write about your experience,” an email from one of my editors read.

I’m a typical millennial. My mobile phone is like an extension of me. I make plans, my phone makes sure that I execute them. My phone and I are like a stack of spoons. I’m the smaller spoon.

How, pray, was I going to survive three days without my Siamese twin? The day before the assignment, I informed my parents and siblings that I would be off air. My mother laughed and told me that I was being punished for spending too much time on my phone.

I also informed my friends through WhatsApp and one of them said I would not last five hours away from social media.

This is how I faired.

Day 1, Monday 22

I switched off my phone at midday. During the first 20 minutes, I felt purposeful like someone who was about to make an important discovery.

After an hour or so, I remembered that I was to meet someone but we were yet to agree on the venue.

My tribulations began. Minutes now felt like hours. I felt frustrated and I was visibly upset. Within three hours, I had had enough. I wanted out. But I was determined to do this challenge.

However, I did not work as efficiently as I’m used to. And I kept reaching for a phone that was not there. Suffice it to say that my friend and I did not meet.

By the time I was going to bed, I felt cheated. I felt as if I had been robbed of something important.

What if the world had moved on without me? What if I had missed out on an important call or text?

These and many other ‘what if’ questions kept revolving in my mind. For most millennials, FOMO (fear of missing out) is real. It was hell on earth.

Day 2, Tuesday 23

I had difficulties sleeping the previous night. You see, I’ve set a wake-up alarm on my phone, so without it, I was bound to oversleep. I kept waking up to see whether it was daylight yet.

When I, again, woke up at 4am, I decided not to go back to sleep. I was at work by 6.30am. At around 8am, I could not take it anymore. I walked out of the office and bought a 'kabambe' phone, one that could receive calls but was not Internet enabled.

I then sent an email to my editor and pleaded with her to at least allow me to catch up with the world through the kabambe. She turned down my request and suggested that I continue with the experiment for at least 24 hours.

I am a features writer, I needed my phone to look for story ideas and pin down interviewees, so my job felt stalled. I, at least, had the privilege of my office landline. But I could not send or receive messages with it.

I have a confession to make though — there was some welcome quietness inside me and around me. It was as if some kind of pressure had been released from inside me.

I was not under pressure to respond to WhatsApp messages or check people’s statuses. But right beside this quietness was emptiness too.

After my plea failed, I decided to focus on other assignments that did not require me to make calls. That was the slowest work day I have ever had.

Day 3, Wednesday 24

After more pleading, I was allowed to switch on my kabambe phone in the morning, and my smart phone later in the day. Interestingly, I was afraid to. I was enveloped by a cloud of fear, afraid that something major and terrible could have happened while I was ‘away’.

I was worried that I would get an avalanche of messages asking me to call home urgently.

At some point during the day, I borrowed a colleague’s phone twice to send an urgent message to an interviewee.

I also turned to Facebook via my computer to communicate with other interviewees.

In the evening, on my way home, I finally got to switch on my beloved phone. Over 10 messages pinged from people that had tried to call me that day alone — I did not get messages from the other days.

The fact that I didn’t get prompt responses from them was immensely frustrating.

I learnt that after 24 hours elapse without checking one’s messages, those messages are discarded. Now, I will never know who tried to call me those first two days or what transpired on those two days.

Day 4, Thursday 25

At 8.30am, I switched on my data. For about 30 seconds, my phone hang. I had 208 chats — from individuals and WhatsApp groups I’m in.

In one of the groups, I had more than 400 messages to read. The pressure was on again! For a moment, I felt like switching off my phone again.