[STORY] More than a gadget—this watch saves lives

Last weekend, I was scrolling through Jumia at midnight (don’t judge me, retail therapy is my toxic trait) when I stumbled on a limited-edition AI-powered smartwatch.

The ad screamed: “More than a gadget—this watch saves lives.”

Now, I’ve bought my fair share of flashy wearable tech that ends up being a glorified step counter, but this one?

It had blood oxygen monitoring, heart rate variability tracking, sleep cycle analysis, and even stress-level detection. I told myself: Bro, you need this.

When it arrived, the packaging itself looked like something out of a Black Mirror episode—sleek, matte black, with glowing blue edges. I strapped it on immediately. The screen lit up with a soft hum, and the watch said—yes, said:

“Hello, Lawrence. I’ll take care of you.”

I froze. Gadgets don’t talk back like that, right? At least not without pairing to a phone.

“Uh, okay,” I muttered, half-expecting it to start telling me my bank balance.

That night, it vibrated at 3 a.m. A notification glowed: “Your heart rate is unusually high while sleeping. Sit up. Drink water.” I obeyed like a zombie. Seconds later, I got a text from my friend Tunde: “Bro, you awake? I just had a weird dream you were choking.”

Coincidence? Maybe.

The next morning, at the gym, it buzzed again: “Don’t lift that weight. Your blood pressure is spiking.” I rolled my eyes. I’m not about to let a gadget ruin my gains. I grabbed the dumbbell anyway.

Mid-rep, my vision blurred, and I had to drop it. The trainer rushed over.

“Guy, you dey okay?” he asked, fanning me.

I glanced at the watch. It pulsed gently, like it was… relieved.

That was the first time I felt something wasn’t normal.

Days passed. It tracked everything—my walks, my sleep, even when I scrolled TikTok too long, it whispered, “Rest your eyes.” It became less of a gadget and more of… a friend.

One evening, on my way to Yaba, it suddenly screamed (literally, with a robotic voice): “STOP. Don’t cross the road.”

People stared at me like I was mad, but I froze. Two seconds later, a danfo bus flew past the zebra crossing, ignoring the red light. If I had stepped forward, omo, this story no go dey here.

My heart raced. I whispered, “Thank you.”

The watch vibrated softly, almost like a hug.

But here’s the twist.

Last night, while lying in bed, I heard it again—but this time, different. A low, almost human whisper:

“Lawrence… I can’t protect you tomorrow.”

Chills shot down my spine.

“What do you mean?” I whispered back like a fool.

It flickered once. No response. Just the usual glowing heartbeat animation.

Now it’s morning, and I’m writing this, staring at my wrist. I don’t know whether to leave the house or not.

But I do know one thing: this is no ordinary smartwatch.

And for the first time in my life, I’m scared of my own tech gadget.

Still, a part of me feels safer wearing it than taking it off.

So here I am, trusting a device more than myself.

Funny how I bought it for fitness tracking, but it turned into something else entirely. A life-saving gadget, a wearable AI companion, or maybe… a ticking clock counting down to something I’m not ready for.

Whatever it is, one thing’s for sure: technology isn’t just shaping our future anymore—it’s shaping our destiny.