Michael Afenfia: Open Letter from Tunde Ednut’s Phone

Hello, if you are reading this, let me start by introducing myself. I am Tunde Ednut’s phone, and I am only a couple months old. I won’t tell you what make or colour I am; I’ll leave all that to your imagination. Let me just say that my guardian, Mr. Tee, yes, that’s what I call him, has been exceedingly kind and generous towards me since I became his property.

Why do I say Mr. Tee takes good care of me? He bought a black leather pouch so when he drops me, which happens quite often, I don’t suffer a crack or break. Life as Mr. Tee’s phone has been pretty much rosy, for example I never run out of credit and data which are my food and water and I am never out of battery life which is my blood and oxygen.

When other people’s phones are around me, they whisper things to me on Bluetooth or Airdrop that makes me very thankful to my manufacturers for shipping me to that exact same spot from where I was purchased for Mr. Tee’s use. Because of that singular act of providence I don’t know what it feels like to be sent to a barber’s shop in Nigeria to recharge because of the power situation in that country where he still has a good number of friends and family. Plus he has never used me to borrow airtime or data before – olorun ma je!

What am I even doing? See me going on and on about Mr. Tee as if this letter is about him. It is about me. No, that isn’t even true, this letter is about you. No…Maybe it isn’t about you precisely, but about some people – and those people know themselves.

I am writing this letter to those people who have decided to take my peace and quiet away and make my life a living hell. First of all, even when Tunde is not using me, you people have decided to turn me into a public property. Every time pim, pim, pim, pim…that is all I get. Wetin happen? Must you tag or mention Mr. Tee every time you post something on Instagram?

And for those of you who are only thinking about yourselves, please, let me beg you on behalf of my owner, that he is not a record producer or a talent agent or pimp. The man just wants to rest, but no, you people just want to use me to disturb him…abi is it use him to disturb me. Now I’m even confused, I don’t even know which is which.

When you sing a song, Tunde Ednut must hear it. Is he Don Jazzy or Young John the wicked producer? When you do a comedy skit, Mr. Tee must see it; abi has his name turned to Ali Baba? When you wear cloth, Mr. Tee must see it, abi is he now the new Mai Atafo? Even those people who want to contest election in February and March too must tag and mention him otherwise they will not campaign. Ngbo, is he now the new Jagaban?

Please, I, Tunde Ednut’s Phone, I am begging you, don’t send me your nudes, I don’t want to know if you have big bumbum or not. When your child is running and hits his head on something and you think it is funny, please laugh with members of your family; don’t involve us in the matter. If you can dance, call Kaffy and if you want to be on Big Brother Naija, abeg na IK or Ebuka make una show una picture. They also have phones – iPhone X Max.

Tunde and I, we don’t like gossip, so we don’t want to know who Genevieve is dating or whether Omotola is fighting with her husband. We don’t care if Davido borrowed a plane or if TuBaba don born another pikin. It is not our concern. I repeat, it is not our concern.

There are many people you can tag and mention if you want popularity and fifteen minutes of fame, but I will not call their names and let Mr. Tee not be angry with me and say that I am taking his bread and butter and giving it to his competition. So, let me just talk my own.

Please, because I am a phone doesn’t mean I shouldn’t rest or have peace of mind. And so you know, every time I beep, it shortens my battery life. And most importantly, every time I download those videos you send me that I don’t use for anything and still have to delete, it shortens my lifespan.

Please, if you don’t feel sorry for Tunde, have compassion on me. A word is enough for the wise. But what am I even saying, las las I would rather remain Tunde Ednut’s phone any day and any time than be owned by a hustler with 372 followers on Instagram.

Photo Credit: Dreamstime