I Don’t Want to Know WhatsApp

I generally avoid this app,
It goes against a lot that I learnt growing up,
Ticks are supposed to be positive reinforcement for the good things you do,
Not a cutting indictment just by virtue of a changed hue,
So what if they’re now blue?
Who made this the basis of our communication all through?
“I’m late to text because I had an assignment due,”
“I got a little distracted by the latest season of Dr. Who…”
Why should that make me have to rue not getting back to you?


In school,
These ticks were red and they never left us blue,
They were a tool,
They excited and incited, we sought them like food,
But now, they only make us wonder if it’s “too soon”,
“Oh my, I texted and she hasn’t replied, what should I do?”
Relax and think back to a time before this was all you knew,
Or tap into the human knowledge passed down for centuries to your innate sensibilities,
And realise that maybe, kinda, sorta, really, it’s all good in the hood.


Maybe I’m biased because I have experience with letters,
Those well-scripted, highly coveted and much-adorned pieces of paper I sent across county borders,
Hoping that their unsuspecting recipients would deem me worthy of a requited gesture.
Back then you had no choice but to wait and play it safe,
You had no right to a reply or any idea whether she had several from another guy; strafe,
So you held your breath not and prayed,
That she dug the dedix in the post-scriptum and — with her number — another paper would return…



But now look at us, so lost in the paste of distastefully being unable to wait,
Unable to reason beyond typing… and Last seen,
Heck! Why don’t you just ask how I’ve been and see,
Maybe a lot has just been happening and I’m not trying to be mean,
Life is full of vagaries, you should know, seeing as you only came back to vibing last week.


I’m yours impermanently over text,
Until you figure out that calling or meeting is best,

Evans Mbora Campbell
I Don’t Want to Know WhatsApp.


↑ ↓ → ← (Up, Down, Left, Right)

So many times we seek the source of the sauce that sweetens life,

We listen to rhymes and chimes when all is bleak, looking for a course of action to make cause and endure even in strife,

But how often do we look to a different paradigm, one of our own design, choosing to be our own boss and not having to force “smitten” smiles?

Why do we spend so many a cent on things other than rent only to enjoy ploys that only make for moments?

How is it that we aim to ascend but do so in manners indecent thinking we’re different from those who toy with others’ lives and torment?

Has it ever occurred to anyone that rules mustn’t bend, standards should be upheld and “good” and “bad” weren’t words invented for joy but with intent?




Is it too late to wish upon a star and hope that somehow we can pick ourselves up?

Is the debate on what would be best for us a far too pointless one, are we lost and hopeless, banished to the dark?

Changes come and leave a mark, sometimes a scar, but will we ever be able to hide it all when on life’s stage, with make-up?




I for one live each day as it comes, in reality,

Remaining as I have always been,



Yours in perpetuity,

Evans Mbora Campbell.