Dear Safaricom Kenya Official Page, I have nothing important to do right now, like wearing real clothes and actually going out to participate in life and make a meaningful contribution to society, so I will just survive and write what I wrote on your wall multiple times without feedback. You ignored me, thank you very much. Before I get to the crux of the matter, where Ill complain about something in that particular tone of voice that has been scientifically proven to wear people down the quickest, I want to thank you for teaching me patience. Side note: By the way, complaining has nothing to do with whether you are happy (right now) or not. It has to do with you potentially being unhappy in another hour or so. One has to plan ahead. So I want to thank you for teaching me patience when I fruitlessly called customer care several times the other day, and when I finally succeeded, I was put on hold for 25 minutes before the call got disconnected. I called again and thankfully, this time, the call went through without incident. Side note: Id suggest a more uplifting hold music/song to be interspersed with those hollow apologies and assurances of my importance to you. Maybe I Need You by 3T. It best incorporates the kind of relationship that we should have. Id want to feel needed by my service providers because really, without me, they are nothing. I know, I can be very demanding at times but I have standards. They may be disgustingly low, but they are standards nevertheless. After I talked to the kind woman on the other end of the line, who said the matter I discussed with her would be looked into, I wasnt assured. I still felt the same way I felt before the call: worried. About just how lightly you take my privacy. How anyone can get access to my messages and actually track me down using a friend or next of kin who works for you. Arent there company policies? Why the infringement of privacy? Unless I am a criminal wanted by the state, I expect every single detail about me available to you to be safely locked in an undestroyable vault and the keys together with the manufacturers of the lock of said vault thrown in an active volcano. My personal details and the contents of my text messages and voice calls are classified information, and your members of staff are not supposed to give them out like free polio vaccines. You are a mighty and strong lover whos doing very poorly at protecting your vulnerable lover whom you NEED. I have been very comfortable around you for years. I even fart and burp loudly in your presence. This is slowly changing and Im afraid I may be forced to take refuge in the arms of that who will protect me. And I am not talking about the government. All that worrying made me a famished lass, and I had to make something to eat. Something like a sandwich. In my absentmindedness, thanks to my worrying about this strenuous relationship that has given me insecure nights and nervy days, I made a culinary atrocity instead of a sandwich. I made a small raft of two slices of cabohydrates held together by a cake of flavoured, coloured saturated fat, floating atop a congealed caloric ocean on its voyage to Type II Diabetes enroute Heart Disease. It was a coagulated mass of heinousness that looked like waste from a cafeteria. And my appetite was gone, but not satiated. It is what happens when a lover is submerged in mental mire because of the unseriousness of their lover. Hello? Are you there? Am I being heard? Or will this just be another statistic in your Noise tray? Yours dejected, insecure lover, Wanja
Posted on: Thu, 30 Oct 2014 06:58:37 +0000
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