My days in Vodafone hell

Open letter to the management of Vodafone GmbH

Ladies and Gentlemen

Since October 24, 2022, I and my neighbor, with whom I share the fate of being a Vodafone customer in Berlin, have not had access to the internet. My network telephone does not allow me to make calls, my cell phone only works outside of my apartment. I've heard from other people in my area - zip code 10707 - that it's a major disruption: repair or improvement work on the cables would have led to total failures on connections that were already working. Something like that can happen.

I would like to inform you about what must not happen under any circumstances. I don't think you can imagine what a customer of your company must go through who even tries to report a claim. If he doesn't immediately hear the announcement that he should call again later, after an endless wait, he hears a computer voice that assures him that two contracts have been found based on the caller's phone number. What kind of disturbance is it, the voice asks.

Surprised at the quick identification, the caller affirms the point "Internet disruption" and has new hope. This is followed by a promise that the call will be transferred to an employee or expert right away. But before that, the caller should quickly enter his date of birth.

I followed this request again and again, only to find out that my date of birth did not match the data associated with my name, and was then left without a word by the computer voice. After countless calls, on the third day of my efforts, I was finally connected to a human voice—a privilege that now seemed like a grace, comparable to being granted an audience with the Pope.

The expert, probably just trained, asked me to repeat all the information I had already entrusted to the computer voice and then asked me to stay on the line and told me not to hang up. So I waited and waited until finally I heard something - but it wasn't my expert's voice, it was a computer voice. She asked me frankly how I would rate the conversation with the expert, if the problem was solved and if I would recommend Vodafone to my friends.

On a Sunday I once again had the pleasure of encountering a human voice. This time a conversation took place, the expert confirmed my report, wrote up a report and assured me that 500 MB would be credited to my mobile phone. So, after countless attempts, I finally completed the first step in eliminating the damage: reporting the damage. When I asked the expert how long it would take to repair the damage, he said it would take eight to 24 hours. How likely is that to happen, I asked. Could it take 24 days instead of 24 hours? Then he pointed out the pitfalls of probability theory: some people also believed that the planet could be hit by a meteorite at any time.

That same day, my neighbor called with news: he'd finally gotten a human voice on the phone. He was promised that the damage would be repaired in two to eight hours.

It's all been days now. The flashing power button on my Fritzbox belies all previous promises. And I fear he will continue to do so for a long time.

Speaking of lies: Why don't you, ladies and gentlemen from management, instruct your employees to give the customer realistic timeframes for repairing the damage? Do you want to prevent customers from looking for another provider because these customers are still hoping for a quick problem solution thanks to your false promises?

Could it be that you are actually telling your “experts” to lie? And why expect your customers to spend several hours a day in limbo waiting in line for a claim – a time, by the way, when customers are still paying your company for a service that it no longer provides?

This procedure may be a saving for your company; for clients who don't have masochistic tendencies, it's a reason to run away.

Kind regards

Peter Schneider