W3: "A World Without Technology: A Blessing or a Curse?"

I woke up to an eerie silence. The usual buzzing of my phone, the distant hum of traffic, even the faint whir of the ceiling fan—all gone. Confused, I reached for my phone, but it was missing. The digital clock on my bedside table was dark. Something was terribly wrong.

I ran outside, and chaos unfolded before me. People were screaming, looking around in shock. "What’s happening?!" a girl shrieked.

My neighbor, Mr. Tan, was pacing anxiously. "No internet. No electricity. No cars moving. It’s like everything just... vanished."

Panic spread. Supermarkets became battlegrounds. People rushed in, grabbing whatever food and supplies they could. "We need to stock up!" someone yelled.

Fights broke out over bottled water and canned food. Those who couldn’t handle the stress turned to vices. Some sought comfort in alcohol, while others—lacking their usual distractions—resorted to drugs. I heard rumors of people forming groups, turning to violence to claim resources.

Then there were the ones who simply lost hope. Aisha, my best friend, sat on the curb, sobbing. "My sister’s overseas… I can’t even check if she’s okay." Many people who depended on long-distance communication now found themselves in despair.

Life without technology forced us into an unfamiliar rhythm. Communication became handwritten notes and face-to-face conversations. People started forming small communities for survival.

Without transportation, people relied on bicycles or their own feet. Workplaces shut down. Schools had no way to operate. The modern economy collapsed overnight.

Despite the chaos, something unexpected happened—people began reconnecting. Families sat together for meals without checking their phones. Children played outside instead of being glued to screens. Conversations became deeper, more meaningful.

"Maybe this is how life was meant to be," my father mused one evening as we sat by candlelight. "Slower. More real."

But my mother shook her head. "It’s nice in some ways, but think of the sick, the elderly, the ones who need technology to survive. This isn’t a paradise—it’s a disaster."

The environment flourished. Without cars and factories, the air became cleaner, and the rivers ran clear again. Wildlife thrived. We had become so reliant on technology that we forgot what it meant to live simply.

But the struggles overshadowed the beauty. Hospitals couldn’t function properly without medical equipment. Food shortages became a major problem. Crime rates surged. Without security cameras, law enforcement, or digital tracking, criminals operated freely.

Some people adapted well, finding peace in this new way of life. Others fell into darkness, unable to cope with the loss of everything they once knew.

For my family, it was a mixed experience. My younger siblings were confused but adjusted quickly. My parents struggled with the abrupt lifestyle change, but they managed.

For me, the hardest part was knowing that the world I had built my future around was gone. No digital careers. No instant communication. No entertainment at my fingertips. But there was also a strange sense of peace. Without the distractions, I felt more present. More alive.

Still, the arguments outside never ceased. "This is our territory! Get lost!" someone yelled one night, followed by the sounds of a struggle.

We had learned valuable lessons—how to survive without technology, how to appreciate nature, how to truly connect with people. But at what cost? Millions were suffering. The sick were dying. Mental health was declining.

One night, I lay on the grass, staring at the endless sky, my mind filled with thoughts. I prayed, hoping for a sign, an answer to everything that had happened. And then, the next morning, something changed.

The hum of electricity returned. Lights flickered on. Phones buzzed. A collective gasp echoed through the neighborhood as people saw their devices reappear. It was as if the past days had been a surreal dream.

Tears of joy, relief, and gratitude filled the streets. People hugged. They called their loved ones, checked the news, and celebrated.

Maybe it was a test. Maybe it was a lesson. Maybe God wanted us to appreciate what we had taken for granted. And now, as life returned to normal, I promised myself one thing—I wouldn’t forget. We had been given a second chance to live wisely, to balance technology with real-life connections. And this time, we had to get it right.

References

Girl shrieked

Client challenge. (n.d.). https://stock.adobe.com/my/search/images?k=shrieked

Client