Reader, do not laugh, for this is a very serious matter. Something happened to me on Thursday, 4th August, 2011. Since then, I have been having serious debate within myself. But the more I think of it the less I complement what actually happened. I am therefore craving your indulgence to assist me if you have answers.
I make this open declaration as an adult in full control of my senses. I have not been certified by any psychiatrist of having any mental problems. Unlike those who see goats and allege they are cows, I do not hallucinate. But can somebody please tell me what I didn’t see on that Thursday evening?
Between the hours of 7.30pm and 8.45pm on that fateful day, I received three calls from the same source. The first one came in the form of a flash and lasted less than three seconds. I looked at the number. It was unfamiliar. No need to call the person. A second call came within three minutes. The same number! I picked it and the person at the other end was laughing hilariously, and at the same time mumbling some unintelligible syllables. “Yes?” I intoned. The person at the other end asked who I was. I did not find that funny and so I asked him why he should ask for my identity knowing very well that he was the person who initiated the call. “Sorry, wrong number” and the person hung up. I checked the number. It started with 054.
At about 8.45pm, that same day, I received another call from the same number. I picked it and the person at the other end asked me who I was. In fact, I was getting exasperated with anger. I retorted in an unfriendly tone and told him not to repeat such nonsense again. “I should rather be the one asking you questions, but not the other way round. I f you have nothing better to do, go get yourself some work. Were you not the one who called earlier to ask me the same question? At that time, you told me it was a wrong number. What do you want from me again?” You could deduce the tone that I was working myself into frenzy.
The unseen caller told me in no unmistakable terms that he didn’t remember ever calling me before. At that point I realized that I was not dealing with a seemingly innocuous person with good intentions for my life. Something struck a chord in my brain and the question came out, “Are you working for National Security?” It was spontaneous. The unseen predator laughed it off with the words, “Oh no, not at all, not at all” and hanged up.
I made no issue out of it until the next morning when I decided to store the number to help me in my subsequent write-ups. You can imagine my consternation when I found out that traces of all the three calls I received from the anonymous caller and predator had disappeared from my phone. All other calls (missed, dialed and received) that I had received before and after the 054 ones were registered but not that particular one! Were my eyes deceiving me? Was I seeing double double, I asked myself. What about my ears? Is my memory failing me? No! The whole thing has disappeared from the phone. Infact, they have vamoosed.
It will be recalled that about a week to that incident, I had received a call from somebody who described himself as Anyidoho on 0244880207 asking to speak to Mr. Koku Anyidoho. When I told him I was not Anyidoho, he asked who I was. I told him my name. He asked if I could get him the number of Koku. I told him to check the Ghanaian Lens since he was and I still believe he is the “Sports Editor”.
About thirty minutes later, he called again and pleaded if I could get him the contact number. Something pricked my mind that there was a sinister motive behind the request, but I decided to play along. I gave him the number and he was full of thanks I thought that was the end of the matter, but no, it wasn’t. The man called again the next day to tell me that his call couldn’t get through.
Straight away, I told him point blank that Koku Anyidoho was no fan or friend of mine for he was of a different political persuasion and that I take strong exceptions to his use of intemperate language he uses on our party officials. I would not like to discuss him but since he is also an Anyidoho, probably from the same family, he could pay him a personal visit at home.
Period! End of matter. But, no, my man wouldn’t take that for an answer. He asked me where I worked. My sixth sense took over. “Why are you interrogating me like a common criminal?” I asked. “Just being curious” he said. “Freelance Journalist!” I said and banged the phone.
Let me add that the voice of the person who spoke the first time had an accent but that of the following day did not. What do you make of that?
I would also like to state that before the 2008 Elections, some friends in the U.S advised me to be security conscious by not including my mobile number at the end of my write-ups. Readers can bear me out that I followed their advice religiously and only included it a few months ago.
But what baffles me is this: Why should the records of that particular number received on the day in question be the only one to disappear from my phone while all others remain? What does MTN say to this? Do people have devices to enable them perfect such an act without detection or that MTN is in league with National Security? I need to be educated on it.

Daniel Danquah Damptey (damptey_daniel@yahoo.com)
(dddanquah@gmail.com) (0243715297)