I got on board a dilapidated and Paleolithic version of a Renault taxi.
The driver of this mess called a commercial taxi engaged me in a conversation in relation to his aspiration to get married to three women. (It is shocking to know how those who really cannot afford certain situations long for those very troubling situations).
While we were in pursuit to my destination, my focus on the phone gradually blurred.
Finally, I had to alight and this man still spoke of his topic on marriage, regardless of my disinterest to that and irrespective of the fact that I had to say bye bye to his old wretched service.
As soon as I got down, the wretched taxi moved as fast as a Ferrari would. That should mean something; something extra-ordinary.
And then, the notice that something wasn’t right suddenly occured to me. I kept my hand in my pocket and got to know that I was unaware that my cell phone had fallen off my pocket.
I went to the station; a place Mr. Taximan was supposed to be by most two minutes after Ialighted.
He wasn’t there.
I suddenly became emotionally weak not because of the fear that I would loose a gadget I was accustomed to but of the fear that my dad will find out that the phone he bought for me only a month ago was missen.
I searched for a Space to Space counter (cubicle where one could make a call and then pay afterwards). I called twice and no one picked or returned the calls.
The fear in me grew much stronger into something worse. I decided to wait a little with an unending relentless determination to get my phone back.
Some minutes later. The car passed by and I waved at the driver.
All he could say was “SHIT” and then handed my phone to me.
Achaab Daniel ABALANSA