When WiFi is Down: The True Apocalypse
Let’s be honest, there are many things in life that can shake humanity — earthquakes, storms, even that terrifying moment when the last roll of toilet paper is gone. But nothing, absolutely nothing, sends society into instant chaos like the WiFi going down. You’d think a zombie apocalypse had kicked off when the router light goes red. I always find myself laughing (and sometimes crying inside) when I see my kids completely lose their cool over it. The electricity cuts out without warning, and within seconds they look like they’re auditioning for a horror movie — wide eyes, nail-biting, pacing the floor as if oxygen itself has been cut off.
And then the ultimate accusation comes flying at me: “Mama, did you people actually live in the stone age without WiFi? How did you survive?” Yohhh! The way they ask it, you’d swear I grew up chasing dinosaurs for dinner. I tell them, back then, we actually talked to each other, we went outside (yes, outside, that dangerous wild place), we played real games where our hands got dirty and our knees were scraped. We survived on face-to-face conversation, not FaceTime. They stare at me like I’m reciting fairy tales.
The funny part is, the WiFi outage apocalypse hits everyone, not just kids. Adults pretend to be calm for the first five minutes, like “I’ll just read a book” or “Maybe I’ll take a nap.” But then the hands get twitchy. The phone feels like a useless brick, the TV won’t connect to Netflix, and suddenly we’re all sitting around like stranded survivors in a desert. People don’t even know how to eat without WiFi. Someone would say “But mom, how do I check the recipe for pasta if Google isn’t working?” Ah, my child, it’s called a cookbook. Yes, those dusty things in the kitchen that you think are decoration.
I sometimes sit back and marvel at how fragile we’ve become. Back then, our apocalypse was real — no candles when Eskom decided to act up, your only entertainment being the neighbors arguing too loudly, or praying the radio didn’t chew up your favorite cassette tape. Yet we survived, smiling and laughing through it. Now, the tiniest flicker on the WiFi router and everyone is on edge, staring at the heavens like, “Why have you forsaken us?”
Still, I must admit, the drama is entertaining. The sighs, the complaints, the theatrical collapsing on the couch. One hour in and the house looks like a hospital waiting room. Two hours in, my kids start negotiating with God like Jacob wrestling with the angel: “Lord, please just give us WiFi, and we’ll never complain about chores again.” (Which, of course, is a lie.)
But maybe that’s the beauty of it. WiFi outages remind us of how ridiculously dependent we’ve become on invisible waves floating in the air. It also forces us — for a tiny, excruciating moment — to rediscover conversation, board games, or even silence (though silence usually doesn’t last long in this house). And honestly, when the WiFi finally returns, the joy, the cheers, the immediate reconnecting — it feels like a national holiday. Forget Christmas, that router’s green light is the real savior.
So, to answer my kids’ dramatic question: No, we didn’t live in the stone age. We just lived in an age where imagination, patience, and actual human connection were stronger than signal strength. But until they experience a world without WiFi for longer than an hour, they’ll never truly believe me. And that’s fine. Because next time the apocalypse hits, I’ll be ready with snacks, stories, and my own little evil smile, watching them squirm while I sip coca cola in peace. After all, one person’s tragedy is another person’s comedy.
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