As I write this I cannot believe that I am writing it. I am so shocked that I, Afam, who should have known better, have found myself buggered by Vodafone yet again. It feels like they just bent me over and unleashed a brutal onslaught of such flurried spanking that my arse shall never be quite right. Whenever I sit I will remember that it was Vodafone that spanked me stupid.

I breathe heavily for at the moment my HEAD is empty indeed. I, Afam am a man of the world. I am immensely delighted and entertained by it. I'm ecstatic at my continued existence as several are not so fortunate as to have arms, legs, no known disability and life. So I strive to find some happiness in every waking moment. Sometimes this is hard, like when you wake up on a flight to find your self being cuddled by someone who could do without food for a year or when you put a lot of effort into a venture and find that it's not as successful as you hoped. Sometimes it's incredibly easy.

Take this random day in London for instance.

It was a Saturday about a week ago. I leaped out of bed at 8am. I can't possibly express to you how bizarre this is. I'm never awake at 8am on a Saturday. It's unheard of. On the days when I do wake up at this ungodly hour I obtain the countenance of a demon. You're probably thinking, "What does he mean when he says he develops the countenance of a demon?" I'll tell you. A dark miasma surrounds me. It swirls around me eager to inflict damage on any passer by. My skin is pale and my eyes are dull and squinty. The Miasma pulls the worst out of me. If you are so unfortunate as to ask me anything that requires more than a nod the answer you'll get will be more sour than orange juice just after you've brushed your teeth.

Where was I? Yes, the sun was shining outside, and even if it wasn't it wouldn't have mattered for my heart itself seemed to have become a mini sun of it's own, beaming amusement, felicity and truly stupendous levels of gaiety upon the general public. I wish you lot had been fortunate enough to have seen me on that day. My joy would have infected you like swine flu.

I threw on some clothes and bolted out of the apartment in Farringdon. I planned to have a little stroll around town but when I saw the the Barclays bicycles lined up on the road like so:
I thought, "Afam you mustn't waste such a delightful opportunity, as an adventurer you must hop on one of these bicycles and ride till your hearts content". That's exactly what I did. To be honest I'd have been delighted with just the average tourist experience but that's not what the universe had in store for me. After about 15 minutes on my bicycle I stumbled upon this.

 Interesting no? In that instant I thought "maybe insanity is a common trend world wide, and maybe London bus drivers are just as bad as our danfo drivers." What cause could a double decker bus have to slam into such a mediocre van? Surely the double decker bus driver must realise that his vehicle is the modern day equivalent of a battalion. It comes as no surprise that that double decker bus was sponsored by vodafone.

A danfo is the Lagosian equivalent of a bus. Having been in one I can testify that it is a miracle that most of them seem to transport a shocking number of people without any harm coming to the majority of them. A Danfo is any insurers worst nightmare. An excursion in one of them is bound to fail any risk assessment test in existence. 

Is it not a delightful creature? You might wonder at the bold and undoubtedly garish design but when looked at through all that smoke pouring from the exhaust, I can assure you  that the colour is quite mild. It becomes a muggy sort of gray.

 I'm not entirely pleased with Vodafone at the moment. I know we didn't think it possible but it seems that they managed to bugger me yet again. One would think that they'd have grown bored of causing me discomfort but I assure you that they haven't. It must be some sort of sport. Let's give this stupid chap who signed a 24 month contract with us a nice slap around the back of his head. I digress...

I carried on riding. At this point I was vaguely amused. I wondered what I would see next. I was already well aware that the day could not possibly be a normal one, that I would be confronted with scenes like this all day long. The next thing I stumbled on was a Barclays advert


 Action!! If you look closely you'll see Barclays scrawled across the board. 

Does anyone know what those things are actually called?

Is it not bizarre that I should happen on a Barclays advert while riding a Barclays bicycle? Unbeknownst to me, I was not riding a Barclays bicycle but a Barclies bicycle.


The Director of the advert interrupted filming because he'd noticed something. He walked over to where I was standing and stared at the bicycle, then stared at me. He did this for about 5 minutes during which I felt like some creature in the zoo. Then he whipped out his iphone and started taking pictures of me and the bicycle. I didn't know why. As he left he said "I like what you've done with the bicycle." I looked down and then it dawned on me. I had ruined the take because Barclays could not possibly run an advert in which one Afam would appear to be calling them liars.

 Above is a scene from the advert. That good looking gentleman gets into that sturdy looking relic of a vehicle and drives off. It occurred to me at that moment that Barclays could hardly be accused of false advertising for that locomotive device is very representative of the sort of service that the Afam household has come to expect from the bank, archaic, sluggish and oddly uncomfortable.

After that I rode down to Hyde Park to enjoy the quiet companionship that Asquith's friendship provide and to continue reading Oliver Twist.



 But even there I would have no rest. Asquith insisted on using me as his model. He proceeded to take the following picture of me.

I was fairly surprised at the result.

On that note I'll love you and leave you.

Happy Days,
Afam

Yesterday I regaled my misadventures with Vodafone in great detail, but I made no mention of the blackberry. I'll be frank. It has been quite sometime since i referred to that thing as a blackberry. It leaves a funny taste in my mouth. Whenever I refer to my blackberry the prefix crack, struggle, bad or shit is usually used to replace black. Why do I have cause to insult my blackberry so? Don't worry I'll tell you.


My first blackberry was the 8520 curve. I was so excited when I got it but I wish I'd read some reviews before hand. That's not to say that I have since read some reviews of the phone, because I haven't. I haven't got the time. What I can tell you is that we of  the Afam household have a three year old 8520 in our stores. The phone currently functions as a land line, or a desk top. If you disconnect it from the power source the device has the mobile phone equivalent of a stroke. You're probably thinking that I should replace the phones battery right? But why should I do this when the Nokia E90 communicator that I used to use is still completely functional after 6 years of use?

I was not informed that when I purchased the blackberry curve 8520, I would be buying an uncooperative twit with no respect for my social life. The phone was possessed. It hard reset when it felt like, deleted my blackberry messenger contacts when it had bad days and generally tried to disrupt my life in every manner possible. When a phone displays that the battery is full and then proceeds to die in the next 30 minutes, that phone is taking the Mickey. My 8520 was stolen in Chicken George and I was relieved. I was due for an upgrade so I planned to get the newest blackberry. I thought that the phone would be free of the personality issues that had come with the one before it.

The first flaw of the blackberry bold 9780 is that it looks just like the blackberry bold 9700. What's the point of getting the newest phone if it is exactly the same as the old one? Apple had the good sense to equip the iphone 4s with Siri but blackberry was not as clever. In my opinion they only changed the colour of the casing and downloaded their newest operating system. That operating system was also available to those with the previous bold. The phone worked fairly well, until 6 months after procurement. I was using it during a light drizzle when it hard reset itself and refused to reboot . I took it to the Vodafone store, where it was diagnosed with water damage? Water damage? From a drizzle? If I were to put my phone away every time there was a light drizzle in Manchester then I would never use my phone. I was given a courtesy phone by Vodafone as a replacement. They gave me the 8520. I promptly turned it off and placed it in the box. I had no need for it.

I informed the Vodafone staff that I was returning to Nigeria for three months, so I would be unable to pick up my phone until September. During the holidays, they informed me that my phone was fixed and ready for collection. I ignored this because I had told them where I was going and they could hardly expect me to purchase a thousand pound ticket for the sole purpose of picking up a troublesome phone. I returned to the United Kingdom only to find that they had disconnected the courtesy phone, because my phone was ready to be picked up. Did they not remember that I had left the country?

On the day of my arrival, I marched to the Vodafone store to collect my blackberry that had supposedly been fixed only to find that it had not actually been fixed.

VODAFONE, BUT WHY?

(You can see that Vodafone is highly skilled in the art of corporate spanking).
It gets worse. 

The lady then told me that insurance could no longer take care of the repairs because I did not report their negligence and inefficiency after the phone had been fixed. I was stunned. I could not believe what I was hearing. This would mean that Vodafone had sent my phone off for repairs, received the phone unfixed and left it on their shelves for three months. Does such a thing seem possible. The repairs were not free. I had paid £25 pounds for them. That doesn't include the insurance premium that I pay monthly. I was informed that because I did not pick my phone up 2 weeks after it had been returned it could no longer be repaired by the insurance company. After I had gone through the trouble of telling the staff at the store that I was returning home for the holidays and that because of this I would not be able to pick up my phone immediately.

Had I not argued for several minutes about this, I would have paid for the repairs myself. In all honesty I might as well have paid for the repairs myself. The repairs would have cost £100 at the most. It is always and everywhere infinitely preferable to gain satisfaction from expenditure, than it is to lose satisfaction and a general sense of well being from expenditure. I fail to see how this can pass for customer service? It isn't even bad customer service, it's crazy!

When all was said and done, the phone wasn't repaired. I was given a brand new one phone. After all the stress I had gone through to get it fixed, I didn't want a new phone, I wanted my phone. While all this fixing was going on they added more strokes to the corporate lashing I was receiving by giving me a first generation samsung courtesy phone. They didn't even spring for a 1st generation nokia. I'm sure that I don't need to detail the damage my social life suffered as a result of this.

I find it amusing that I no longer know how to use 1st generation phones properly. Texting with one of them is IMPOSSIBLE!!

The new Blackberry 9780 was not as sturdy as the old one. It was like the reincarnation of my 8520, it did things as it pleased. It could not open web pages of a certain size, but I didn't mind too much after my experience with the samsung, I found great comfort in the qwerty keypad.

Yesterday my blackberry found itself in the Atlantic ocean. Although efforts to rescue it were successful, it remains an invalid in the sack of rice that the Afam household keep in the kitchen. If I know anything about my phone, I know that it shall use this opportunity to enjoy a quiet passage to the after life. So what should I do? After my experiences I will not be handing the phone to vodafone for fixing. I'd rather buy another.  I will not make any promises or overly bold proclamations, but I can assure you that the times they are a-changin'. In the mean time I'll make do with my trusty nokia.

I feel bad that I should have any cause to complain so. I would really prefer it if I never had to complain at all, that I may restrict my efforts to the enjoyment of the Earth and all the things inside it. But now that it's done, I can focus on better, more positive things, like my recent ungraduation from uni and my Lagosian adventures. Onward and Upward!!!

Happy Days
Afam

A very important development has developed. Can I not say that? Well, I don't really care. This important development has put a stop to my hearty Lagosian adventures. I am convinced that there are three things in this world that could never mix, and I believe that several of you know exactly what it is I am on about.

This combination, this cocktail of misfortune, this eternal quagmire is the marriage of Vodafone, RIM, and I, Afam. I'll start this tale from the end. As we speak my £55 Vodafone phone bill is two days overdue. I am fairly sure that my bill should not be £55, because Vodafone owes me money. How did such a thing happen? I'll tell you.

In April or May, while pulling off one of my many all nighters, I heard a faint voice calling in the wind.

Enter Nightly Spirit

Spirit: Afam, Afam.

 I looked around and wondered who it was that whispered to me in such a lovely and appealing voice, that made my mouth water with desire.

Afam: Who's there?

Spirit: Quarter Pounder with cheese, mmm.

Afam: I really shouldn't, I mean I mustn't.

Spirit: Go large with the fries. You know we make the best fries on the high street. Don't forget to try our medley of sauces. I know that we appeal to your infinitely adventurous palate.

Afam: My palate does yearn for the unfamiliar every now and then...

Spirit: That's the beauty of it, we're so familiar but yet so foreign.

Afam: Who are you? Tell me...

By this time there was a rumbling in my stomach going boom bada boom bada boom

Spirit: When last did you get a large Vanilla milkshake from us? You naughty chap. You've been cheating haven't you?

Afam: But they're so good at Archie's, I couldn't resist!

Spirit: Shut up! we've been catering to your every desire since you were six. That should count for something.

Afam: I'm sorry.

Spirit: No matter, there's no time like the present to rectify your negligence.

Afam: Yes, I'll leave right away.

Spirit: Don't forget to get an apple pie and a Mcflurry. Also don't forget to get that cheese burger with your student card.

With that dismissal, I wakeboarded from my seat in the Library. Yes, I did this. Don't doubt me


I was in such a good mood after this conversation with the spirit of McDonalds that I went skipping very gayly down Oxford Road in Manchester with my trusty Blackberry in hand. Before I knew what was happening, I felt myself vault through the air. I landed flat on my face, and my blackberry smashed into the ground with a lethal amount of force. It ceased to work instantly and no amount of coaxing could wake it from the dead. Being a lad who's well aware of the many shits that the universe can take on a human being during the course of a day, I brushed the dirt from my shoulder and continued to McDonalds, where I ordered everything the Spirit told me to. It was a splendid meal, even if it did come at the cost of my phone.

While one cannot belittle the obesity crisis sweeping the world, one can proclaim that McDonalds in moderation is good for the soul.

 After my exams I sauntered up to Vodafone and to claim my insurance. The insurance company duly informed me that I could only make a claim on accidental damage, if it happened within the last seven days. This was obviously a clause that I had neglected to read when they asked for my autograph a year and a half before. I was also informed that it would take £100 to resurrect my blackberry. I bit the bullet and asked for it to be added to my bill at the end of the month.

Two days later I realized that Vodafone had gone above and beyond the call of duty and disconnected me. I went to the shop and they said that they needed me to pay the £100 immediately. I complied. Two days later, my service was suspended yet again. I checked my account online, and it said that I owed £100. I thought, "Gosh, it's so embarrassing that the first payment did not clear"(These things happen sometimes). 

I paid again. I checked my bank statement two days later, only to discover that I had paid Vodafone twice (Rookie Error). As a student who's perpetually broke, this is a deadly error. One that must be rectified with no delay. How could such a thing have happened? They had ruined my finances! I called customer service to complain about the unreasonable development and they asked me to take my private and undoubtedly personal bank statements to the nearest Vodafone shop.  I swallowed down the difficult and extremely bitter pill and strolled into my preferred vodafone shop with my bank statements in tow.

The Vodafone staff then had the audacity to scan and send my very unhealthy, and unbelievably private bank statements to a Vodafone office only God knows where, to do only God knows what with. After a little while they informed me that they had located my money and that they were unable to make an immediate transfer to my bank account. Could they not see that the double debit had pulled me into my unplanned overdraft, the fees of which are £50 pounds. They then insinuated that it was my fault that I was double billed. It was too much to take. I went into shock. I couldn't even complain. Believe it or not, Vodafone still had some more buggery up their sleeve. They deducted my next bill from the money that I had in excess and promised to send me the rest within 10 working days. I left the store without any spring in my step. I was extremely deflated.

Let's fast forward to today. After their horrific treatment I can confirm that my money has still not reached my account. I can also confirm that they have not deducted it from my next bill.

A little over a month has passed since this incident.

Vodafone why have you chosen to punish me so? It must be at the prompting of some universal entity, that you decided to wield your heavy hand of corporate bureaucracy against one incomparably tiny Afam.

Happy Days,
Afam.