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33 hours later – how I managed without my ‘crutch’

I almost killed myself trying to delete a message sent to a large WhatsApp group by mistake.

I WAS without my phone from Wednesday, September 21 at around 08:00 until 17:00 on Thursday, September 22.
I don’t mean to sound melodramatic, but what a harrowing experience.

No WhatsApp, no WhatsApp Web, no Facebook, no Twitter, no Instagram, no Pinterest, no TikTok – at least not on my phone.
I know exactly how I ended up in this situation – I was due for an upgrade in December 2021. My phone, a Huawei P30Lite, was still in excellent condition, but I needed a new data deal. Vodacom came to the party brilliantly at the time, and I couched a superb deal.
I’m a clumsy so-and-so and drop my phone relentlessly. Then in February, the bruises she suffered over the 24-month period started to show, and a crack emerged on the screen through the tempered glass. No problem, I thought, I will replace the screen and Bob’s your Uncle.
Well, Uncle Bob was not coming to the party, and after paying R600 to replace the screen at China Mall, the phone worked well for about a week. Next thing, there was funny business. My phone would send commands and seemed to have a mind of its own.

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Being in media, I am on about 15 WhatsApp groups, the biggest of these being an emergency paramedic group that consists of journalists from around the country.
At about the same time, I had painters in my home and had recorded a video about work they had started. So my house was upside down, with scrapings on the wall and dirt on the floor. Because my phone was sending commands involuntarily, that video was shared with the emergency paramedic group. There was even some commentary detailing what the painters had done for the day.
Next up, message after message from colleagues came through, alerting me to the fact that I (my phone) had sent the video to the emergency paramedic group. I nearly killed myself in my haste to delete it. By then, I think half the journos had seen it.
Que Wednesday, September 21, when my screen began disappearing. I rushed to Vodacom at the Pavilion. I quickly sat down and spoke to a consultant. My dream, an iPhone, was out of my price range so Moola advised me to try the Samsung S53. Barely concentrating, I agreed because, as I spoke, my screen kept edging away. Next, I spoke to the technician, Riaz, to save what he could before all my treasured memories were gone forever. ‘Save my gallery, save my WhatsApps, save, save save.’

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By now, my withdrawal was at an all-time high.
It highlighted that I only knew two numbers by heart, I had to ask around for people’s numbers, I relied immensely on WhatsApp, and I was addicted to my phone.
I’m a bit of a hoarder. I store conversations, recipes, and photos on my phone. I am always, for example, looking for that pic of my 26-year-old son when he turned one to post – I like to have these on hand. Riaz, the technician, goes down as my hero of the week because he saved it all.

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