Why you must always peruse your invoices

*sigh*

I have been a customer of Vodacom for close on 7 years now. In terms of reception and network connectivity, I have had little to no problems.

The same cannot be said for service and charges though. My first unhappiness came some 2 years ago when I happen to look at the invoice that sometimes get sent to my designated e-mail account and saw that I had been subscribed to two services and that I was being charged for it. I think they were called Look4me and Look4help respectively. Now sure, it wasn't a lot of money, something like R20 in total per month. But it is the principle of the matter. What happens is that the services are free once introduced and then get charged for after some time and if you don't want the services, YOU have to phone THEM and opt out. Sure enough I did that and demanded my money back for the 8 odd months that they had charged me for these services. After some drama I was refunded. Only to receive another sms a few months later informing me that I have been subscribed to these services AGAIN.

There were other instances of poor service, but let me rather not rehash it all now.

I was due for an upgrade in October and migrated to a different package and opted for the BlackBerry curve, lured by the promise of unlimited e-mail and unlimited on device browsing. (Check out http://www.vodacom.co.za/getSpecials.do if you don't believe me). All for a small amount of R60 on top of the normal contract subscription. Chuffed, I waited impatiently for the migration to happen. Since then I have been having all sorts of fun with my new phone.

Then came my first invoice. And what do I see? Data charges! Now, again, the amount was insignificant, a mere R40, but how can they advertise unlimited e-mail and browsing and then charge me on top of what was agreed for data? After taking a few deep breaths I phoned the call centre and after explaining to the consultant what my issue was (and him telling me that he knows you can get e-mail on BlackBerry but that he doesn't think you get unlimited browsing) was put through to all and sundry. Finally it transpired that I was using the Vodafone browser and that is why I was incurring charges and that I have to switch to the BlackBerry browser. After another 3 calls to the call centre to get the technical support (why they can't take you through everything until your problem is solved in one go I will never know) I managed to resolve the issue.

But I am very irritated. I think it is extremely dishonest of Vodacom to advertise unlimited browsing and e-mail but then to make their own Vodafone Live browser the DEFAULT browser and then happily charge you for it. If my suspicious mind did not cause me to scrutinise the invoice, this would have continued for who knows how long.


If only there was a worthwhile alternative and if only porting wasn't such a schlep and so vastly underregulated. The telecoms industry in this country is a joke.

Eulogy

I stood next to your bed and listened as you talked about your life, its many tragedies and few joys. You had intelligence and wit - that much was obvious. When I heard the news of your ill health I took the decision to come and see you, knowing it would be difficult. My reasons were twofold. The altruistic reason was to bring you peace, to tell you that I did not hold a grudge. To bring you some comfort that I still cared, especially in your hour of need. The second reason was completely selfish. After all these years and even after convincing myself that it didn't matter I still wanted your approval and love. So I stood by your bed, mostly silent, and I lapped up every word, hoping and waiting for you to express your regret for the lost years. But you didn't. And you didn't reach to touch me like you did the last time I saw you eleven years ago. And I didn't reach for you.

You had become old and withered, a broken body and a broken heart. I came to tell you that I forgave you, but suddenly I was at a loss for words. You did not try to bridge the gap and suddenly I did not have the inclination either. I hoped that the gesture of driving several miles to see you would be enough and would speak the volumes that I carried in my heart.

The doctors did not know why you were ill and they weren't in any sort of rush to find out. Crucial tests were not being done because in a government hospital certain tests are not done over the weekend. They got angry when we looked at your file and took it away. We were waiting for the surgical consult, but the surgeon never came.

You were dying and there was nothing I could do.

The day had sapped me and your conversation dried up. You just lay there, battling for air, sweating profusely. We would make eye contact over your oxygen mask for short bursts before we would both look away. I don't know why you looked away. I looked away because I didn't want to burden you with the hurt and questions lurking in my eyes.

So I gave you my business card and you put it in your pocket with your cigarettes. Still I didn't touch you. I didn't know how. And then we left.

Less than 24 hours later you were gone.

I will never know why you made the decisions you did. I will never know what happened in your past that shaped the person you became. I will never know why you didn't call us on our birthdays or let us know that you cared. You had robbed me of your love. And now your life had been robbed from you. The tragedy of it all consumes me and a cloud of regret hovers above my head. A darkness is pushing down on my shoulders and my soul.

I am sorry I could not tell you this before, but I hope you know:

I forgive you, Dad.

Goodbye.