Pocketers and Snatchers Encounter (Part 1)

July 25, 2011 (Monday)

As my phone alarm rang at around 6:30 in the morning (actually, it was 6:50 because I set it 20 minutes advance), I still can’t keep my body out of my bed. It’s because I was confident enough not to be late for class. I’m confident in the sense that my class would be at 8:30 and the university where I study is just in front of my dormitory. I was still pressing the “snooze” button every after five minutes until the clock displayed 7:00. Call me a “heavy sleeper” and I won’t blame you. As I rise, I was still thinking about the agreement we had with my group mates; that we would go to school at 7:30 to do the unfinished group activity. First thing I did: turned on my laptop and logged in to Facebook. Then, I put some water in the heater for some milk, turned it on until the water boiled. There you go, breakfast is ready: milk and cookies.

Eating and surfing – that’s my morning routine. And after giving twenty minutes for that routine, I rushed up to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and took a shower. And oh, before that, my mother called asking my ATM’s account number. I was a bit pissed because it delayed me. I hurriedly wore my school uniform. I was a bit excited to go to school that day since it would be the time that everybody else will be wearing the prescribed uniform. After fixing myself, I put some things in my backpack, my hanky and my two phones. Let me tell you something about my backpack. It is just an ordinary backpack with two zippers and two compartments; the big one where I put my books, a bottle of water, umbrella and envelope; and the small one where I put small stuffs like comb, hair clips, hanky, calculator and my two phones (which I recently found risky because there are many pocketers around).

My room was on the second floor of the 4-storey building, so I have to go downstairs to go out. Of course, and why would I fly? The building I’m saying is a pawnshop on the first floor, rooms for rent on the second and third floors, and on the fourth floor is the residence of the owner of that building. Multi-purpose, huh?!

I went downstairs then and smiled as I met the security guard, which I usually do. It was around 8:15 and I was on my way for school. Since the school is just in front, I just crossed from one sidewalk to another and walked a few steps to the main gate. And while I was walking, I can see different people but the same in one way – busy. Most of them are students (my schoolmates actually), workers, passengers going in and out of the jeep, and the like. Just as I was about to turn left, somebody tapped my backpack and I turned around to see who it was. I was thinking maybe, it was my classmate, someone I know or someone who knows me. But he was not. It was a man, wearing white shirt and walk shorts. I can still even recall his face. He hurriedly crossed the street when the stop light turned red. After a few steps, a girl told me (translated), “Miss, your bag is open”. I was really frightened. I already have things running in my mind. I put my backpack in front of me as I was walking and I saw the small compartment’s zipper open. I hastily looked for my phone, and it was gone, so fast and easy. The girl said (translated), “What was lost?”, and I answered her, “My other phone, Miss”. “His hands were so fast”, she said, “There he is, wearing white shirt”. I just looked at her without saying a word. As I went in, I was like baffled and out of myself. I picked up my other phone then, texted my mother, telling her to call. I walked, climbed up to the third floor feeling nothing which I normally found exhausting. I was on the third floor and met my classmates on the hallway. Someone said, “Hi, Kareen!” I went near them and cried on my classmate’s shoulder after I said (translated), “My phone was lost”. After a minute, my mother called asking what happened. I told her everything and she told my father. My father called then, and he said that I don’t have to bother my mind for that phone although it has a sentimental value because he gave it to me. I cried the moment he called for the thought that I will be scolded, but I wasn’t. Instead, he just told me not to worry.

That phone has been with me for almost four years and my father gave it to me. Before he gave it, it has been in his hands and took good care of it. It was not expensive though. But it was really valuable for me. It has been with me for quite long. It was one of my best friends. It was my way of communicating people whom I love and I know. It has the contacts of the many people I get in touch with. Those are the few reasons why I cried for its loss. I was just sad.

Two days ago before that incident, we had an activity in our NSTP class. We have to answer all the questions given. I can still remember a part of the first question and it was, “What is the most valuable material thing for you……?” I wrote there, “My phone” and I enumerated few reasons why it is valuable for me. I think the activity was like bidding “goodbye” for my phone.

I have regrets that day. If I went earlier to finish our group activity, I wouldn’t have been the pocketer’s victim. If I put my phones on the big compartment, the pocketer wouldn’t have noticed it. If I just carried my backpack in front of me, I could have noticed him before he could pick it. Tsssk.

At the end of the day, I just wished that my phone was a great help for the pocketer’s family. Maybe he was just in need, that’s why he did that. Maybe his little children were hungry and he could feed them no more, that’s why he did the easy way to make money. Maybe my phone was really for him. I just prayed and hoped that my phone had helped the least of my brethren.

*To be edited.. Watch out for parts 2 and 3!