Five Hours Without Wi-Fi, Signal, or Electricity: A Survivor’s Tale

I write this not knowing if I’ll survive the ordeal.

No Wi-Fi. No cell signal. And — most devastating of all — no electricity. 

The cell signal was the first to go, thanks to a forgotten phone bill. That one’s on me. Then, as if the universe had a personal vendetta, the condo management decided it was the perfect time for “preventive maintenance” on the electrical system. Just like that, the power was cut. And with it, the Wi-Fi — our last fragile link to modern civilization — blinked out.

I was officially off the grid.

No Facebook. No Instagram. No TikTok. No Netflix. Not even a sneaky WhatsApp message could get through.

I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling fan, which — thanks to the outage — was also taking a break. For 30 minutes, I contemplated life. My choices. And how long I could survive without memes.

Then I heard it — the soft whisper of the wind squeezing through the closed window like a polite ghost. I got up and opened it. Fresh air. Nature. I was beginning to remember what trees looked like.

Wandering over to the dining area, I opened another window. A cat meowed from the neighbor’s unit, possibly mourning the same losses I was. Or maybe just hungry. Hard to say.

Back in the bedroom, I caught a glimpse of myself in the window reflection. I stared and thought: You can do this. You're a baby boomer. You grew up with rotary phones. You used road maps. You once asked a stranger for directions and didn’t die.

There were books waiting. Real ones. With pages and everything.

The Quran was one of them — a perfect time to reconnect, reflect, and maybe even reach another khatam. A noble pursuit.

Then I remembered: I had downloaded some movies on the iPad. I’d save those for when the boredom became unbearable.

I took a long shower — my second of the day — ahead of Asar prayer. And then, it happened.

A faint beep.

The fan began to rotate, slowly pushing cool air into the already humid room. The fridge hummed back to life. The Wi-Fi router blinked like a tiny digital hero.

Civilization had returned.

I scrambled for my phone. Only four WhatsApp messages — none from the groups.

Still, I emerged stronger. Wiser. Maybe even a little humbled.

Would I survive another five hours without connectivity?

Absolutely not. Let’s never do that again.