Wednesday, July 6, 2011


Today morning, I was gripped with a desire to cut my talk-time costs, much like your average Kenyan. I'm on a great network, which I sing the accolades of as if it were paying my rent. I get all the texts I want to to the same network, low rates for calling other networks (in fact, it costs me the same to call other networks as it would to call the States. Please note that other networks only did this after my network blazed the trail) and...well, really, that's all I need. I'm low maintenance. 3G isn't a big deal to me. I'll live. Plus the customer service is very accessible, and if I say I've been stolen from, there actually is a chance that they will refund me. It's happened. Twice. (how many people can say that?)

I think because the other people like me on my network are happy-go-lucky easy-to-please folk, they are beginning to dole out crap plans and hope no one notices. In a bid to reduce my significant phone expenditure, I went online to look at their postpaid plan.

My eyes thought they were deceiving me and decided I must be temporarily blinded by all the cake that's been in the office. The sudden effluence of calories had obviously shocked my retinas into brief but complete blackness. So I called Customer Care, hoping my ears were not suffering from the same disease.

The man I talked to was nice. He tried to calm my troubled brow, and yet I was too riled up to really pay attention. Maybe it's just me who expects more from 500 bob a month than a total of 200 minutes talk time. Is he serious? Are THEY serious? I proceeded to ask him how long it takes HIM to use 100 minutes. He tried to deflect my violent attack, tell me about 10k limits (which were horrifyingly unstructured and completely senseless) but it was too late. I had already started the opening lines of this blogpost. I hung up promptly...shocked. Dismayed. But most of all, and worst of all, betrayed.

I have been too busy to blog (can you believe it?), but this injustice caused me to leap onto my keyboard. It's therapeutic, you know. Seeing as I can't burn their offices or civilly speak to their incompetent promotion officers/marketing managers/people in charge of products and free texts and monitoring public opinion, however douchey, I do what every Kenyan with a phone and a brain and absolutely no political and/or otherwise clout does. I tweeted their company.

If they don't reply, I'm calling on higher powers. @WMutunga.

Not really.

Ok maybe.

No, not really. I'm just a bit...emotional right now.

*flees the scene to wail in the corner*


p.s. The title refers to the murder of my trust. Gory. Unscrupulous. Swift. *bursts into tears again*

p.s. Check out For all your online entertainment needs. *winks*


  1. *rocks her baby into sleep* It'll be better in the morning.

  2. It could be worse you could be on the network that shall not be named...