Tabula Rasa

On that hot Saturday afternoon at the shop when you bought your MTN SIM card, the lady laid 9 cards before you. She told you to pick the one you liked best. You were fascinated, but also very excited. All these options before you. It was almost like you could decide your fate. Your new life. Which number had no ‘5’ because of how much you disliked the number (you couldn’t stand how much it looked like a haughty and mean girl). Which ones could easily be memorized. Which ones had a lyricality to it, something you could almost rap like a song. She was patient with you, this MTN lady with her red long nails and tribal marks. It was almost like she understood the gravity of this moment. And so you continued to screen the SIM cards and the numbers.

Eventually, you found 0806 789 8212. There was something about the number that caught your attention. You couldn’t move from the number. You stayed fixated on it.

“Aunty, you like this one?”

You said the number out loud. 67898212. Why was the number so familiar? What was it about this one that couldn’t leave you? The intrigue wouldn’t let you be. And so you let the MTN lady start the registration process for the number. This number calling unto your new life. This is how you would be reached henceforth.

***

Because a new you beckoned, old things were discarded. Old clothes, old books. Old life, old looks. All gone. Everything was new. No stains from before were on it. What you have now is a clean slate. You’ve made room for this you. You look around your new living area in this new neighborhood. They can’t find me here. They wouldn’t know how to.

And so when the number started to ring, you froze for a moment. No one should be calling you. Not just because you had burned all the bridges of that old life, but because no one should have this number. You reach for the phone and stare at the at the Caller ID. It is a number that you do not recognise. You let it ring until it dies. And then you put it back down. They had known where to find you, apparently. You were afraid for a bit. Wondering how far they would go to find you. But the fear dissipated quickly. You had put an end to all that now. There was nothing to be afraid of. You would just ignore them, henceforth. You continue with the tasks in this your new house. Continuing to tidy up this new and improved you. This happy, trauma-free you.

In the middle of the night, the phone rings again. This is the fourth time that day. You look at the Caller ID. It is a different number from the others from earlier in the day. You pick it up. Out of curiosity and the need to give the caller a good lashing of your tongue so that they never call again.

“Hello?”

“OMG. You picked! This is a real number?”

You hear giggling on the phone.

“Who is this? What do you want?”, you bark.

“OMG. Are you his assistant? Can we talk to him please?”

“Talk to who? Who are you? If you don’t identify yourself, I will call the police.”

“Can we talk to Soulja Boy please? This is the number from the Kiss Me Thru The Phone¹ song. We didn’t think it’ll ring but OMG!!!”

The giggling starts again.

You remember now why the number was so familiar. And you begin to wonder how quickly your life has become a joke. You resign that it is at least better now than what it was before. There’s no trauma, no sadness. Apparently, just drops of comedy. That, you can definitely handle. For this, you become grateful. You have a clean slate, indeed.

1. This is actually a real song. A ridiculous song that somehow found its way to the top of the charts and made many teenage girls act in silly ways. Here’s the proof.