There comes a time in a relationship when you know it is over. Nothing you will ever do will rescue the relationship. A pastor will not. Elderly relatives with their accumulated wisdom will not. A counselor or a therapist will not. Talking it out will not. Taking time off, will not. It is over.
If it is a man and he is an alcoholic, he will hit the bottle harder, caring less about the wife, or children. If he is into drugs, he will plunge deeper into the cheap escapism. If he was violent, now he will be suicidal, instilling terror in his family; the wife or girlfriend will always be afraid, not sure what to expect every time he walks through the door. If a womanizer, he will be cheating brazenly and openly, if only to offend the wife the more. The man will do anything to make the woman read the signs and go away. Some women stay put, knowing that he may change his ways…
If a woman it is a woman tired with a man, she may decide to start cheating as a way of despising him. She will be rude and condescending. She will serve the man cold cabbage, badly prepared food, and anything to demonstrate that the love is gone. Some women may even stop caring about her looks, put in more weight, acquire a wig or a weave against the man’s wishes and generally stop caring about the man.
Basically, the love will be gone.
That is where I am with Zuku.
I first met Zuku in my friend’s house in South B, back in the Christmas of December, 2012. It was down. I don’t remember any single day that it worked when I stayed with him briefly. Now. Back in 2012, wi-fi was sort of a luxury and few places in Nairobi could offer it. The few restaurants that had it were either too expensive, charged you for using it, or it was unreliable. Mostly unreliable. I used to rely mostly on cyber cafes, you would find me at the Lazards Cyber Café on Kenya Cinema’s 4th Floor. Even so, I got a teaching job and the school used to offer internet, though as soon as three people were in the staff room, it hardly worked.
I bought a Safaricom modem. It was reasonably reliable. Some devils would lie to me that Orange or Celtel (was it Zain or Kencel..). The reason I have stuck with Safaricom, despite its prohibitive costs is that they are at least reliable. I tried the Orange Modem once, I realised I was going to be a great grandparent, before it could open the Google Search bar.
Down the line I joined the newsroom and the office internet was superb, obviously. I had no need for internet anymore. I went to the United States and the internet was so ubiquitous like air. See, I always had reliable internet, one way or another.
But when I came back from the States, my life changed dramatically. I needed time to adjust. I was not so sure about employment. Now a father, older, fatter, stupider, I could not bring myself to sit in a cyber café, unless under very exceptional circumstances. I tried Java, and a few other restaurants, but the wi-fi in restaurants was mostly unreliable and invariably went down as soon as I ordered a milkshake.
I asked around and despite the bad rap Zuku got, it was the only option I had. I ran into the guys in my hood, and I asked them to come set up the damn thing. Within 48 hours, and 100 dollars poorer, I had the Internet and everyone in my household was happy. Zuku had charged me connection fee, but the following week, the connections were free in my neighbourhood. I have always been terrible at timing.
The first month, there were the usual teething problems and I was patient. I live in an area where anytime someone at Kenya Power wants a quick buck, in the way of overtime, they just switch it off. The place is always under maintenance. And any time power goes off and comes back, Zuku used to take up a whole day before it can be reconnected. And you know that little problems when it rains.
The second month, it was ish-ish. The third month, tolerable. By the sixth and seventh months, things improved and I was on a roll. But around this time, texts messages started coming. Zuku could send up 50 messages a day. I have dated a deranged girl, so possessive, but she never wrote so many messages. And then, soon afterwards they started making calls. Very mechanical and annoying.
“Hi, I am Irene, I am calling from Zuku, wanted to tell you that if you pay on time, we have a rewarding system, you will get one point and if you get to three points, we will add you 10 mbps, blab la…” I took the calls, but after three months I realised, it was boring and stopped calling altogether.
Then I bought another subscription for my office. The office one used to work well, but sure as hell, once a week it will have its down time.
But it is the one in the house that has driven me nuts. For the last two months, I can no longer rely on it. And yet my job relies on the internet access for 24 hours. Every single minute. And by internet, I mean speedy, reliable and affordable internet. Currently, only Zuku can do the job. But they are not reliable. And they have cost me many man hours and money I can ill-afford.
Thrice a week, I wake up to work, and once I have sat my ass down and about to upload something, Zuku disappears for hours. You can imagine, it is one of those days when you are too broke to venture into town. The very reason you put a Zuku in the house, to help you work from home is to save you in such days. Maybe you have a skype call with your client. You can’t go to a restaurant, like Java where everyone and their mothers go to hang out to talk about sensitive stories. Besides, only Java out of their 69 outlets has functional wifi.
When you wake up on Monday with a lot to research on. A lot to read on. A lot to send, but Zuku takes leave until the time you don’t need it. We can’t leave like that. When it is down, I have to shower, leave home for town, sit in a restaurant with bad food and all distractions. It beats the very logic of having it.
So, with this, I would love to terminate our love affair. I will thank them for the many days they have come through, but now, speed and reliability are not an option for me: They are a must.
I am single again. Anyone can take me up.
The Deal 