Saturday with a Twist: What a Day Feels Like Without Data and Calls
Saturday with a Twist: What a Day Feels Like Without Data and Calls
It was Saturday, September 7th, 2024—a day that would unfold in ways I didn’t expect. At 3:30 PM, I boarded the train bound for Kaduna. For once, I got to the station early. A rare occurrence, but as I’ll explain, this wasn’t just any Saturday.
From the moment I woke up, things felt different. By 7 AM, MTN had blocked my SIM card for the second time, leaving me cut off from the world. No calls, no messages, no data, just me, my phone, and a lot of silence. It dawned on me then that today wouldn’t go according to plan.
After wrestling with the idea of getting out of bed, I reluctantly got up, freshened up, and connected to the home WiFi. I managed to contact the hike lead for a final update before heading to the pickup point. This would be my last call until I return to the home wifi. By 7:45am, I was out the door and at the pickup by 8:00am. But something felt off. A sudden panic struck—what if I’d missed them?
With no way to call, I was stranded. Desperate, I asked a nearby vulcanizer if I could borrow his phone. He hesitated but finally agreed, and I quickly made the call. I was right, they had passed the pickup point. There I was, standing in the middle of the road, phone useless, no data, no signal.
But the determined part of me kicked in. I hopped on a tricycle, or as we call it, a keke Napep, to try and catch up with the group. I knew the trail, having hiked it before, though years ago. Luckily, I found them about ten minutes late. They had waited for me despite not being able to reach me on the phone. A small victory.
We set out for the hike at Ushafa Hills, a rugged, monolithic landscape that never disappoints. For the veterans, the two-step climb was familiar territory, but the newcomers struggled with the steep ascent. Still, in just under an hour, we reached the peak, and the sight of Usman Dam made it all worthwhile. From up there, the view was nothing short of spectacular.
After a brief rest, we played a couple of games. The first, a fast-paced game called "21," had everyone laughing as we tried to avoid saying the forbidden number. The second, a team bonding game of "Rabbit, Wall, and Gun," ended with Team Olivia beating Team Aaron 3-2. 
Time was running out, and the weather threatened to turn. We quickened our pace to reach the final stop of the hike: Ushafa Waterfall. The sound of the cascading water, the sight of baboons lounging in the trees above, and the lush greenery created a sense of peace that made the hike worth every step.
Ushafa Waterfall is unique, boasting three separate falls. The first, unreachable by humans, seemed to be reserved for the baboons. But the second fall was ours to enjoy. The therapeutic force of the water washed away our fatigue, providing an unbeatable photo opportunity. We spent nearly an hour there, none of us eager to leave. 
But the day wasn’t over. There was one more fall further down the stream, and though it couldn’t quite compare to the first, it offered a fitting conclusion to our hike. By the time we descended, my phone had become little more than a camera. No calls, no texts, just me and the moment.
It wasn’t until I returned to the muster point that reality set in. My phone, still disconnected, left me wondering how I would make it home in time to catch my 3:30 train. As luck would have it, a friend, Anji offered me a ride home.
Back at home, I barely had time to freshen up before Pius, another good friend, arrived to take me to the train station. In the car, I leapt at the chance to connect to his WiFi, briefly reentering the world of notifications and messages. But there was no time to respond. I couldn’t afford to miss the train.
Now, I’m aboard the train, and irony strikes again. I’m surrounded by messages I still can’t answer. With no data or network, my phone is once more an island. So here I am, writing down my experience, my Saturday without a phone, using it to document my offline adventure.
It’s funny how a day without connectivity can shift your perspective. Platforms like Bulb offer the perfect way to capture such moments, allowing me to share and earn from this seemingly mundane story. Thanks for sticking with me through this digital detox as I navigate a two-and-a-half-hour train ride, still disconnected.
And this, dear reader, will be uploaded the moment I find WiFi again.
