Bob Kisiki
In your child’s eyes, the world (as represented by technological advancements) is one step short of perfection — inventing the digital gadget that can store food in its bowels. Once that is done, the gadget will be the equivalent of the machines in the ICU, where one is on life support. They will be everything the child needs to stay alive.
I don’t refer to all children; I have in mind only the child who has degenerated to the level of a digital gadget addict. Oh yes, to them it’s progress, but between you and me, we know it’s really degeneration.
As human beings, we were wired to relate. Relating, in my view, is living with and for others. That’s what relationships are about. You communicate what cannot be seen (desires, needs, views, etc) to those around you, in words, actions and other non-verbal means. They respond to you. You live life together in a shared space. That is relationship.
Now technology captured some of these solutions that we used to expect from real life walking, talking and breathing and encapsulated them in a small rectangular gadget and told us that this was relationship.
You can talk to people there. You can laugh with them there. You can read books and watch movies and listen to radio and play games and even “make love” on the gadget. I tell you it’s worse than you ever dreamed or even feared. And so some children get to a point where they ask themselves, so what’s the point? Why have people around me yet I already have them in here? What’s the point?
Therefore, when they are at a party, they are seated right there among the throng, but they’re absent. Mark that little word – absent. That’s what the gadget does with you – it makes you absent, wherever you are.
So at mealtime, bedtime, study time, work time, even during me-time… all the time, the digital gadget addict is absent. Married to the gadget. Enslaved by the gadget. Loving it; living in it; serving it.
Get me right, I acknowledge the usefulness of digital gadgets. As a writer, I would be a near-total flop without my phone. It’s where I get work; it’s where I do a lot of the reading I must do to remain a relevant, up-to-date writer; it’s where I do some of the work I do; it’s what I use to keep in touch with the writing, editing and reading world, which is really my home country.
So I am not saying they are bad. What I am saying is that if you realise that your child has become addicted to gadgets, do something about it. Quickly. Urgently.
For starters, acknowledge that the child needs engagement. The reading they do; the movies they watch; the sites they visit on the Net; the chats they engage in… each of those activities has several equivalents offline. They can engage with friends and chat in real time, laughing out loud without having to laugh in letters and images, saying LOL and attaching emojis.
It’s pathetic. If it’s a game they need, they can go out and play with a ball or a board game or to a swimming pool. They can drive their sibling to a friend’s place for this or that reason. Offer alternatives. Participate in some and supervise others. Let them play others unattended.
Secondly, tell them the dangers of keeping company with a non-living thing all day, every day, all-year-round. Tell them about the danger to their eyes. Tell them the damage it can do to their skeletal frame. Tell them that it gradually turns them into a worse machine than the tablet or phone. Tell them that God created them to be human, and to live humanly (and humanely) with fellow humans. Anything short of that is actually dehumanising.
The writer is a parenting counsellor and a teacher
