I never imagined that losing a phone could shatter someone the way it shattered me. My name is Joel, living in Najjera, Kampala, and I had spent nearly a whole year saving from my mobile money business just to afford an iPhone 14. I wanted it badly because I felt I finally deserved something good for myself after working so hard.
When I stepped out of that Kampala shop with my new phone in hand, I felt like the happiest man in the city. I took photos, called my sister immediately, and even placed the phone beside my pillow before sleeping. Everything felt different, and for the first time in a long while, I was genuinely proud of what I had achieved.
But that happiness survived only one day. The very next afternoon, as I walked past Old Taxi Park, a thief on a speeding boda darted by and snatched the iPhone right out of my hands. It happened so quickly that I couldn’t even scream. Within seconds, he had vanished into the chaos of people and traffic.
I was left standing there in shock, trembling and speechless. That phone was more than just a device to me—it represented my sacrifices, sleepless nights, and countless days of saving little by little.
Losing it felt like losing a piece of my soul. That night, I cried like a baby. For an entire week, I could barely eat or…To Continue Reading, Click Here
