Life after trauma: The suspicious carjacker

Last night I left work late and made my way to the bus stop with a friend.


We got into a bus that was filling up fast, but finding no joint vacant seats, our plans to seat together were foiled. I sat at the rear of the bus, in the second-last seat, next to a slender guy in a charcoal-gray shirt and gray pinstripe pants with a swelling at the crotch.


The jovial men on the back seat were chatting animatedly, and deciding that they didn’t “look suspicious”, I turned to the pair of seats on my right. On the aisle seat was a petite girl, while the window seat was filled by a heavy, pot-bellied man. They exchanged knowing glances furtively, looking forward to the night ahead.


Satisfied that they also didn’t “look suspicious” I relaxed some more and sunk back into my seat. The bus had tinted windows and a luggage carrier above the seats that made it too dark for my liking, but the blue light from a long, thin bulb on the right side of the bus offered some comfort. But not enough to forget the guy in the seat beside me.


I trained my eyes on my seatmate. He was breathing suspiciously. Short, fast breaths, as if his heart was racing with excitement and his veins flowing with a rush of adrenaline fueled by what he was about to do. He formed a mean, angry scowl that forecast ill-intent. Was he angry at the world and itching to avenge himself for all the ways it had failed him? His eyes darted back and forth and in and out of the bus.


I was overcome with a sense of foreboding, and it didn’t help that the bus was hurtling down the clear road, as if on steroids. I suspected that it was fueled by the muzzle of a gun sticking into the driver’s side, held by the man sitting next to him in the cabin – my seatmate’s accomplice.


Resigned to my fate, I wished that I had carried pepper spray. Then I decided that whatever my seatmate was up to, he would not catch me unawares. I would stare at him brazenly, taking in his entire being and imprinting his photograph in the fore of my mind. I wanted him to know that I knew what he was up to. My eyes followed his every move. I watched him clench and unclench his fidgety hands, noticed when he clasped and unclasped them, and took in the folding and unfolding. Then he slid his right hand down and reached into his pocket.


Was this it?


I watched intently as he drew out a thin, dark object.


It was a phone! A mulika mwizi with a neon green backlight.


I sighed.


He looked at the screen and typed something on the keypad.


Now, this must be it. It was time and he was sending a signal to his accomplices.


My friend alighted.


I was tempted to alight with her and take a taxi home, but I wasn’t sure I would get one … and the price would probably be inflated. I thought of moving seats. Moving to the empty seat that my friend had just vacated, but as I toyed with my thoughts, someone else sunk into it. I was stuck.


The bus was still hurtling down the road suspiciously. We flew past two black spots and then a police road block. Maybe there was nothing there. Maybe I was just being paranoid.


I wanted to fish out my phone, to send a message to the world that I was scared. But that might work against me. It was best not to use it. I remembered the valuables in my bag and tried to figure out how I would hide them.


I thought about how my seatmate would brandish a gun and ask for my bag. How I would hesitate to buy time, enough time to hide my treasures. But where would I hide them? Maybe I could talk some sense into him ...


If anything happened, this guy would kill me. I had studied him too closely, so blatantly. I imagined him sinking a knife into my neck; the blood gushing out as I reached for his neck to strangle him in return.


I had nowhere to hide. A wistful smile formed on my lips. I should have alighted when I first noticed he was suspicious. I should have alighted with my friend. I should have taken a cab home. But here I was. Maybe I was being paranoid, but who could blame me?


Suddenly he moved. I made way for him to pass.


Was this it? Was he finally taking position before he struck?


I watched as he made his way to the front of the bus. I was ready. I had been waiting for this moment all night.


The bus stopped.


He alighted, throwing me off with this twist in the tale.


As the bus swung back onto the road, I looked at my (former) seatmate one last time, glad that he was now outside. He still had that mean scowl on his face, angry at the world and full of ill-intent.


It didn’t matter anymore. I was home and my imaginary carjacker was gone.

Communications body releases answers to frequently asked questions on fake phones

Some fake phones were not switched off

Following a flood of calls that paralysed operations at the communication's commission headquarters for two days, the regulator has released a list of frequently asked questions (FAQs).

This belated list of FAQs is meant to get distressed Kenyans, who might call the commission's offices demanding answers regarding phone barring, off the its back. (Please note that you cannot reach the regulator via phone because its office phones were also barred after they were found to be fake.)

1. How do I know my phone has been switched off?
Ans: Eeh...because you pressed and held down the power-off button. Contrary to popular belief neither we nor your network provider have super powers to switch off your phone.

2. Why did they target me? My phone was the first to be switched off.


Ans: I already explained how your finger made contact with the power-off button. (If you didn't get it, check 1. again.) 

b) But how come my neighbour's fake phone was not switched off?
Ans: If your phone doesn't know networks then it's small fish and has no space on the airwaves. The alternative is for you to know people who can switch your phone back on. 

3. What is the difference between network barring and phone switch-off?
Ans: You might need to retake English language lessons.

4. How do I know my phone was barred from the network?
Ans: Count the network bars on the top left corner of the phone. If they are between one and five your phone is alive. (This does not work with the service providers who always have network problems.)

5. Speaking of network problems, why does my provider always have issues? There are too many delayed SMS and dropped calls on my congested network.
Ans: Please stick to the issue at hand, I only prepared answers concerning the phone barring!

6. What do I do now that my phone has been barred?
Ans: I don't know why you are asking this question; maybe it is because you think that CCK came up with this brilliant idea, but it is the network providers to blame for following through with this big joke. I suggest that you march from Uhuru Park to your service provider's headquarters and then look for a judge whose phone was barred to issue an arrest warrant against the head of your network company. If you are lucky enough to have university students joining your demo, you can force motorists to give you their genuine phones in exchange for your fake one.

5. No really, is my phone useless?
Ans: Regardless of what haters say, your phone may not connect to a network but it still has swagger. I suggest you call it your re-loaded PDA gadget, engrave a cool-sounding name on it, and front it as the must-have device for any bigwig worth their salt. Also, your phone has not lost the cool features it used to have and you can still use it as a calendar, phone-book, picture and music storage device and camera, among many other uses.

6. Now what next?
Ans: Don't despair, I know how you can make money from this. Just because your phone has been barred in Kenya does not mean it can't work in other countries that do not have a law to block fake phones. Collect all the 'useless' counterfeit phones you can find, ship them to neighbouring countries such as South Sudan, Tanzania and Uganda, and sell them. That way you can turn your misfortune into a profitable venture and buy the real gizmo you've always desired. The Tanzania Communications Regulatory Authority has specifically said that it will not switch off counterfeit phones because it does not wish to interfere with the people's right to communicate. What other green-light could you be waiting for?

On a serious note:
All handsets imported for sale are supposed to meet certain standards set by the Communications Commission of Kenya (CCK) in a process that is called type approval. Any handset that does not meet the standards is considered to be counterfeit. Such are the kind of phones that were barred from connecting to mobile telephone networks between 30th and 1st October 2012.

Once the phone is deactivated by the network provider, one cannot make or receive calls or messages, connect to the Internet or send or receive mobile money using the blacklisted phone. The barred phone is likely to display the message: "SIM registration failed" or you may find that the phone shows no signal strength or a "no service message". However, even if your counterfeit phone shows full signal strength you will not be able to use network services.

 Remember that the phone's hardware and other features that don't require connection to a phone network are not affected by the blacklisting and you can continue to use them. If your phone has been blacklisted you can also change the handset's IMEI number (mobile phone reprogramming), but only if the memory chip is the kind that can be overwritten, and possibly enable it to connect to a network just like before. However, CCK had warned that one of the reasons that counterfeit phones were barred is that they emit radiation above the recommended levels and thus could harm your health. Radiation levels are judged using a the Specific Absorption Rate standard, which basically refers to the amount of radio frequency energy absorbed by the body when using the handset.While all mobile phones emit RF energy, the SAR varies depending on the model. In most countries, the maximum acceptable SAR varies between 1.6 watts per kilogram to 2 watts per kilogram.

One of the standards used to measure whether a phone is genuine is the IMEI number - the code that uniquely identifies each phone. This was what was used to block counterfeit phones, as those without the unique identifier were blacklisted for barring. Nevertheless, critics say that using IMEI as the standard to identify the so-called genuine phones, blocks out small-scale phone makers, who do not produce phones at the scale required by the GSMA to be given IMEI numbers for their phones. Moreover, there is the aspect of some renowned phone makers having phones with duplicate IMEIs defeating the whole purpose of the IMEI being a unique phone identifier.

Check out the Communications Commission of Kenya's (CCK) frequently asked questions on counterfeit phones here:

http://www.cck.go.ke/counterfeit-campaign