I was in grade 10 when I got my first cellphone. All my friends had one and they all had the latest models too. The most popular one back then was the Nokia N70. When you had that phone you were be the envy of all.
My mom was not working because she was sick. My dad had left home years previously, so even though he was working there was zero chance of him buying anything for me, even if I asked, which I didn’t.
After walking the five kilometers home from school one day, I arrived and was surprised to find my older sister there. She was home on leave from her security job. She looked good but that was not what made me drool, her phone had me looking at it like a retard. She had a Motorola that was so slim I sometimes wondered if it had any wiring in it or if it worked by magic.
I borrowed it from her all the time and only returned it to her when there were calls to answer. Her boyfriend called me her PA!
One time she let me take it to school, and all my friends wanted to die of jealousy. My friends had those phones from sugar daddies but I couldn’t bring myself to sleep with a man old enough to be my dad, so I had never been given one.
To my surprise, one day my sister gave me her old phone. I was happy that I could now receive calls and that I had a cellphone I could call my own. It was not the latest Nokia by any means, but it was mine and I loved it – it was an Alcatel. My friends were not impressed, but I was over the moon.
Even though I love my latest phone now, it will never replace my first love.