You might remember that a few weeks ago I was in Namibia. On the way back the airline managed to misplace my luggage and indeed it has been misplaced ever since. Apart from missing some of my favourite items of clothing the bag was unfortunately full of all the electrical equipment I need to charge up my gadget life. Hence I have a computer I can't now switch on, an iPod I can't listen to, two computer hard drives that cannot be accessed and, most importantly, no charger for the mobile phone.

Some of this I could just about put up with but the mobile phone was a step too far so I bit the bullet and went out and bought a new mobile. It was a good enough excuse for another phone because as we all know we want a new one every few weeks anyway. And I have been having serious gadget envy for the iPhone which is indeed a thing of great beauty and unbelievably functional. (I have no shares in the company that makes this product by the way!)

All of this is by way of explaining a huge irony in that the purchase of a new phone has enabled the world to lie to me about the rest of my lost belongings. First of all I was given a number to ring to enquire about my bag. It could be telephoned between twelve and six on any day of the week. Except there was never anyone there to answer it if you did actually ring between these times. There was an answering machine which invoked me to leave a number and 'we will get back to you.' This, in my opinion, has become the great lie of the 21st century; the ubiquitous, 'I'll ring you back'.

Nobody at the end of a phone offering a supposed service ever rings you back. It is part of their training. They are told to make sure they ask your number and enquire when you will be available to take the return call. If you say three o'clock they write down midnight and then when you go off the phone they either eat your number so that none of their fellow workers will get it, burn it ceremoniously to the merriment of their co-workers or flush it down the toilet while laughing uproariously at the idea that you and I are sitting at home expecting someone to be doing something about our problem and getting back to us.

And this is not a UK phenomenon. It is global. Having had no contact for ten days about my sad bag I was left with no option but to ring the airline headquarters in Namibia. The Namibians are fine people but clearly they were also trained by western phone-line liars. When I explained the full extent of my bag grief the woman blithely suggested she would take my number and ring me back. Since it was Africa I gave her the benefit of the doubt thinking there has to be some honesty somewhere. That was seven days ago and my phone has not yet tinkled.

The code goes missing on my car radio. It is a five-minute job to fix it if I would like to call in when it suited me. Having no car radio is almost as bad as having no luggage so I called in sharply. That seems a lifetime ago and now I'm caught in the phone-line liar equivalent of a house-selling chain. The man in the car shop is waiting for the man at the manufacturers that told him he would ring him back with the code and I'm waiting for the man at the car shop to phone me back tomorrow which was ten days ago.

I phone a finance company to cancel a cheque in my account but they have to ring me back. I have no idea why except to surmise that it gives them the chance not to – ring me back that is. And it seems if you ask anyone else if they are ever lucky enough to receive the return call the answer is always no. It doesn't matter whether it is insurance companies, finance companies, mortgage lenders, supermarkets, airlines or gadget shops; no-one ever rings you back. The only people it seems who can return a call are the tax office, the PSNI and the call centre in India who has been trying to sell you a villa in Marrakech every day for the last three months.

So there is only one thing for it. Once you get someone on the phone keep them there until they faint from hunger, wet themselves, scream from cramp or, the least likely, solve your problem. And while you are there ask them if any of them have seen a small black suitcase with an Air Namibia sticker.