An Ode to BlackBerry...

I was one of those early adopters of the “crackberry”. It was a status symbol pre-loaded with a sense of importance that no other device had, and I proudly carried it around in my holster. But mid-last week, my BlackBerry Key 2 died, leaving me with a dilemma: should I continue with an unlocked BlackBerry or fully surrender to the Android or “i” device operating systems?

As an immigrant who migrated from Kenya during one of its many unstable situations in the summer of 1991, I was extremely grateful for what Canada offered me. I was also immensely indebted to my wonderful grandma (may her soul rest in peace) for what she had done to help us emigrate here. Enamoured of all things Canadian, I soon became proud of this country’s many achievements, including its pioneering mobile technology.

Research In Motion (RIM), as it was then called, revolutionized mobile technology with a device that had a phone on it as well as a functioning email. I was so proud of this Canadian innovation that I carried my BlackBerry like a badge of honour. In both my personal life and in my professional sphere as a crisis and issues communications specialist, I felt like a man of importance, carrying a device that delivered like no other.

As a diehard RIM supporter, I followed the company closely. That included their largely ambivalent response to the launch of a new type of phone by a certain Steve Jobs––a device that was not only destined to be ubiquitous but one that created a remarkable ecosystem covering all of our mobile technology and eventually smart tablet needs.

Ignoring what the tea leaves seemed to be showing, I and many other diehards remained loyal. We clung to the belief that the BlackBerry Storm and the Playbook would deliver something the “i” ecosystem never could. And, of course, I still felt that deep sense of obligation to Canada in all its forms. After all, this country had offered me the opportunity to launch and continue a largely successful and rewarding career that I felt defined by.

Alas, as wonderfully captured by @JacquieMcNish and @SeanSilcoff in their rich book, Losing the Signal: The Untold Story Behind the Extraordinary Rise and Spectacular Fall of BlackBerry, things quickly unravelled for RIM. Either the team behind the BlackBerry was in denial or they were asleep at the wheel. Either way, they soon sank from a 45 percent market share to zero.

At the time, I didn't see it coming either. Despite witnessing the downfall of Nortel Networks, Corel, and JDS Uniphase, I said to myself, “Nah, BlackBerry of all companies will have watched the downfall of all these former Canadian tech darlings. They won’t let it happen to them.” I was wrong, of course, and it seems, so was everyone at the helm.

The sad demise of a company that tugged at my heartstrings was hard to watch. The recent movie about the BlackBerry saga hit many raw nerves in my system. It reminded me that when @johnchen had taken charge at the company, I had felt a na?ve surge of hope that he would prevail and turn things around. It wasn’t to be.

But after the death of my BlackBerry Key 2, I feel sad and empty. A pall has been cast and dark shadows are creeping in. Last Friday, I had to make a decision that has now changed the course of my professional career. At age 52, I was hoping to work for another 20 years with the use of a physical keyboard mobile device. It’s not meant to be…

Of course, I know there are many far more egregious problems plaguing our world. But it still makes me sad that another Canadian tech company––one that was as close to my heart as any––had to go by the wayside.

In the meantime, I have accepted the fact that for me to remain connected to my ex-wife and our two wonderful children, I have to surrender to the “i” ecosystem. And maybe that’s what I should thank Steve Jobs for. Being connected to my family outweighs all other considerations. Cheers Steve in whatever afterlife you are in––I owe you, big time!?