THIS BLACKBERRY MADNESS - ANY IMPLICATION FOR THE ECONOMY?

 I will start this madness with an apology to my readers - an apology for writing this article late, and at a time when any serious mind should be occupied with issues of more important dimensions. As they say when there is nothing to say, it is due to circumstances beyond my control. By the way, I can authoritatively tell anyone who cares to know that I am a late comer par excellence. For instance, I got admitted into the university through the short fall admission list, which, as you all know, is for those who fall short of the merit or supplementary list. Expectedly, I got myself into the habit of always going to lectures late. But I made up for this deficit by leaving the class early. There is a brand of madness in town, not quite new. It is the blackberry madness. Millions of Nigerian youths are caught in this web of voluntary madness, bereft of the usual paraphernalia that accompany such pastimes. I am informed that the female population constitutes a greater percentage of these millions. You may be wondering what my business is with all these. I am a lover of technology and am therefore fascinated by the fact that a technology-induced madness is afflicting the future of my dear country, which is not unexpected, considering the obvious fact that Nigeria is a heavy consumer of western technology products. But what I find interesting, maybe weird is that I am a spectator in a game that I should be the most valuable player. Now, how do I explain seeing a girl, heavily endowed with beauty, on the back of a commercial motor-bike (okada is what we call it), pinging her way to lectures. This friend of ours is engrossed in her blackberry, perhaps pinging, that she does not know when the okada man turns off his ignition. The okada man, a not-too-patient old man is angered that a girl too young to be his fifth child is wasting his time, and his chance of making more turns before he retires for the day. So, he turns his ignition on and speeds away with our friend. Our friend is jerked back to the consciousness of her location and begins to shout at the okada man to let her get off the bike.  Are you mad? She asks the okada man, in a raised voice that made a mess of her attempt to be phonetically relevant, making her pronounce the /ae/ in mad like /ei/ in maid. The okada man stops, visibly enraged by the embarrassment. He makes a feeble attempt at gripping our friend who by now has alighted from the bike. Our friend resists firmly. It is obvious that a scene is about to be created, and that people around are going to be entertained by the unfolding drama. But the situation is quickly brought under control by some good Samaritans who quickly resolved the matter. I thought you were not going to come down.The okada man is telling our friend, you good-for-nothing daughter of a good-for-nothing parents. He wastes no time in collecting his fare and then, as being alerted by an internal alarm, drives away furiously, almost knocking down another female friend of ours, who is communing with her blackberry. Before the ladies call for my head on a platter made of wood, let me quickly say that the above scenes also may apply to the guys, even though I am yet to see any guy pinging on a bike. But that does not mean they don’t do it. Don’t get me wrong Okay? Let’s get back to our friend before she gets out of sight. Our friend (please pardon the over-use) ignores the people around, and perhaps the incident, and makes her way towards a hall close to the site of incidence. It turns out that she has lecture to attend, and like me, gets to the class late to meet a parked hall, overflowing with students, straining hard to hear the lecturer who was dictating notes from a notebook that was lying on the table before him. Our friend manages to get a seat at the back row, thanks to a male friend of hers who had reserved the seat for her. She mutters a half-hearted appreciation as she assumes the wooden seat that was fast losing its ability to carry a heavy weight. She sighs, as if protesting the low audio output of the lecturer or the many questions that her male benefactor was asking her. She dips her hand inside her hand-bag, carries out a quick search. Her hand emerges from the hand-bag, clinging unto her blackberry and earpiece. She connects the earpiece, first to the blackberry and then to her ears, calls up her music player, rolls down her song list and the rest is history. This blackberry madness is indeed driving me mad. It is not as if I have anything against blackberry, before people begin to think of me as strange bedfellow who hates technology. I guess many people are already seeing me as such. For instance, I met a girl sometimes ago who all she needed me to do for her was to buy a blackberry for her, before we can become friends. I didn't need to think twice before I zoomed off. It is not as if I can't buy a blackberry for a girl, but I need to be able to buy one for myself before I can do that. Love your neighbour as yourself, that is what the holy book says. I am not envious of people who are in love with the blackberry. As a matter of fact, I have resolved not to do something crazy about getting blackberry...like defrauding my dad or maybe, lying to my mother. The only problem I have now is that those of us who do not want to be part of this blackberry game are the ones considered crazy.

ICHA CHUKWUEMEKA AGBO is a Nigerian Student of Electronic Engineering in Moscow, Russia. 

Now what are the implications of the blackberry madness to the economy? Have your say.