Revolution In The Time Of Facebook Addiction – Part 5

They had moved to the city, where for Martin it was a time of endless toil and little reward. Dutily, his wife had given birth to children, in quick succession. Martin had quietly dedicated himself even more to his odd jobs, a handyman, a general labourer. Anything he could find that would support his young family, Martin would do it. But it was unsustainable, and he knew it. He felt he could unburden himself upon his wife, and tell her how he felt he had more abilities than that. He could not tell her that he felt himself dying inside every morning when he awoke, when he realised that if only he could have finished college, he would have made more of himself. He could not tell her of his wishes when he looked through the windows of the Internet cafes and saw the Facebook addicts engrossed in their virtual world, which needed money to enter. His wife was a pragmatist, a realist of sorts. That is to say, she had no imagination. She would not listen to him speak of dreams of being an important so-and-so, she would quickly remind him that his next job was to sweep the streets and he was about to be late.

One day Martin had been cleaning a teachers’ college, where young men and women of ambition and character were taught to pass their knowledge to others. He had seen out of the corner of his eye, a young woman no more than 20 years old, friendly and yet shy at the same time. She had said hello to him. No-one ever said hello to him. He was a thirty year old who looked much older, at least forty, by grace of the burden of hard work. It was said that Facebook addiction had a similar effect upon those whom it struck. Martin was touched by her efforts to reach out to him. He resolved to make sure to clean the same place at the same time, in the following week. And so he did, and simple hellos evolved into conversations, into walks to accompany her to the house she shared with other students, into romantic sit-downs in the park. He felt accepted, in a way that his wife never did, and despite his sense of duty to her, he was moved to search for a new life with his mistress.

And so we come to the end of the story of how Muwena found herself abandoned by her husband. A man who, after years of humble servitude, had simply broken away. A man who, despite seeming to love his children, had loved himself more. Muwena had many stories to exchange with Doreen, of the shared difficulties of raising children in a world that tolerated injustice, hardship and Facebook addiction. She had heard of the latter from other mothers in the neighbourhood, and now that the plain clothes police had come looking for Facebook addicts, her worst fears were confirmed. She knew that they were lucky for now – without a computer or Internet connection, Facebook addiction was the last thing they needed to worry about on a day to day basis. But she feared for the future, when her children would be beyond the safety of the neighbourhood, beyond the support system cultivated in this tiny community, where nobody could sneeze without word going round.