What Happens When the Internet Goes Down?

Somewhere between creating the internet and transforming everything in reality into an app, we stopped treating connectivity as a luxury and started treating it like oxygen. We don’t notice it when it’s there. Only when it disappears like my babe.

Now imagine this: you wake up tomorrow, reach for your phone (as usual) and realize there is no internet. Not that you don’t have connectivity or something (those big big tech words).

Not that you don’t have data or subscription.

At first, you just brush it off. In your head, its normal MTN gimmick. You don’t deep it; no overthinking. You remain calm and move on with your normal day. You shower. Eat. Go to work or class. Mind your business. Then a few hours later, you try again.

O boy, nothing!

You run the normal pilot activity (airplane mode) you do that whenever your network is slow or messing up.

Still nothing (O boy! Panic o cause wahala don dey ground o)

You literally ask people around and they all say the same thing. You start crashing out cause the internet has stopped completely.

The first thing you noticed was communication. WhatsApp stops delivering your messages (your babe would assume you forgot about her), your Gmail just sits there useless, Instagram (favorite addiction) also stops working, then X (ah! mogbe o) also stops, everything just stops working (So, no more doomscrolling). Even sporty bet (my open bets), gone just like that (again, PANIC O!)

For me, this alone is a world level threat.

Then it gets bigger, because the internet isn’t where we just doomscroll, listen to music and fool online (especially on X) with different people. Somewhere along the line, we built our lives around it.

Money is another issue on the ground (Again, wahala dey ground o).

So, imagine having money…and suddenly, you struggle to use it. Even, just access it. (the saxophone gets louder)

Businesses would start to feel the smoke immediately. Online stores stop processing that order of yours. Customer service systems go down. Cloud software becomes inaccessible. Files stored online suddenly feels faraway.

Then there's school too. Online lectures disappear. Student portals stop working. Assignments can't be uploaded. Google Drive suddenly becomes a very confident icon doing absolutely nothing.

And transportation? Ride-hailing apps stop working. Google Maps becomes less useful. Delivery companies struggle to coordinate drivers. Logistics systems start crumbling. You might physically have somewhere to go. Good luck figuring out the easiest way to get there.

Then we get to the stuff people don't think about. Smart TVs. Security cameras. Smart watches. Connected appliances. The big three: Alexa, Siri and Google Assistant also just stop. All those devices we've proudly labelled “smart” start looking a little less intelligent when they can't talk to the internet.

Entertainment? Finished (God please I could actually run mad).

Netflix goes dark. Spotify goes quiet. YouTube disappears. Online gaming becomes a very expensive way to stare at a menu.

But honestly, the scariest part isn't losing Netflix. It's realizing how much of your life has quietly moved online.

Your photos, your files, your work, your money, your conversations, your school, your business, your maps, your entertainment. All connected. All the time. And that's what makes the internet so strange.

We just use it. We trust it. We build on it. We depend on it. The internet has become less like a tool and more like infrastructure. Almost like electricity. You don't really think about electricity until the lights go off. And maybe that's what an internet outage would finally teach us. We didn't just create the internet to connect the world.

And the moment it disappears, we might discover just how much of our normal life was never really normal at all (ko normal rara!)