The day I decided to sell my phone, I thought I was making a smart, mature financial decision. You know, one of those "I am now a responsible adult" moments. What I didn't know was that I was about to enter the most chaotic episode of my life.
It started innocently. I told myself, "You don't need this phone. You need peace... and maybe money to help sort out some of your pressing needs."
So the next morning, with unnecessary confidence, I posted:
"Neatly used phone for sale. No fault. Only serious buyers. Slightly negotiable."
That was my first mistake.
Within five minutes, messages started pouring in.
"Is it still available?" one buyer asked.
"Yes, please" I answered with all seriousness, unaware of what lay ahead.
"Is that the last price?" he inquired.
" Yes, it is." I replied, still polite.
"Can you dash me?" he surprisingly asked.
"I don't understand; what should I dash you?" I asked, already angry.
" The phone na?!" he said.
"Dash you ke?! Abi you dey play ni! Am I running a charity organization? Oga, abeg shift comot for my phone jare," I said bluntly.
One man even said, "I can't pay the full amount, but I will be praying for you."
"Oga, can your prayers download apps?! I asked, but he didn't reply.
I thought my problems were over when I chatted with a serious buyer. He called with authority.
" I'm interested. But I will need to inspect it."
" Inspect? It's a phone, not a building na!" I replied.
" But I still want to see it" he insisted.
So, we agreed to meet. I dressed well, just in case selling a phone had a dress code.
When he arrived, he took the phone like a detective handling evidence. He checked everything—even things I didn't know the phone had. He even snapped my face without permission.
" Smile," he said.
" Excuse me?! Am I part of the package?!" I asked angrily.
Then he asked, "Why are you selling it?"
Now... this question is dangerous.
"No reason, I just want to upgrade," I simply said. I didn't want to add that I also needed the money.
He looked at me suspiciously. "Tell me the truth. Is there a problem with it?"
At that moment, even I started suspecting the phone.
Before I could answer, my beloved phone started misbehaving—freezing like it had stage fright.
The man stepped back. "Ah ah! It's showing signs!"
"Signs ke?!" I said surprised.
Then, as if possessed, my beloved phone restarted itself.
We both watched it like it was performing a miracle.
But the worst part? My phone came back on... and started playing music loudly from nowhere.
" I don't even have that song," was what came out of my mouth.
"But the song is coming out of your phone," he reminded me.
We looked at each other for 30 seconds and immediately burst into serious laughter.
"Maybe the phone doesn't want you to sell it," he said consolingly.
"I guess some relationships are not meant to end," I replied, smiling.
My beloved phone and I are now bonded.
Although the man didn't buy the phone, we became good friends.
This is my response to the 
I am really glad I found this community, and it's actually my first time here. It's a place where we can actually laugh away all the anxieties of life, if only we can spare the time to read the amazing jokes from talented hivians.
SEE YOU SOON WITH MORE EXPERIENCES