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Wednesday 25 March 2015

NYSC SERIES: THE ROAD TO CAMP’S END

(Otondo Insignia by Juwah Awele)      

[Singing]
“Youthss obeey the claarion callll..."

If you are one of those fortunate enough to have served in the Nigerian National Corps then I am sure you understand better my incorrect spellings and quite frankly, probably sang along. If on the other hand you are yet to serve or haven't been so lucky as to have had the opportunity to serve, then let me give you a peek behind the curtain of the National Youth Service Corp - NYSC.

A mixture of experiences to say the least, the national service as you probably know begins with that glorious day that you finally receive that sheet of A4 paper announcing to the world that you are a now graduate of whatever field you spent the last four to five years studying, and if you are a doctor then that would be the last six to eight years you’ve been cooped up in some higher institution. My journey into service began at about 5:30am on Tuesday, the 5th of August; I serve in the 2014 Batch B Brigade. 

I made my way to the bus park, no fancy terminal like you would imagine, just your average ‘Naija Park’, vehicles everywhere, some semblance of order, muddy floor, that Spartacus type of ambience. This park is important because guess what, it is where I met my first camp babes! Don’t laugh yet, if you are going to be serving your country for essentially peanuts a month (N19,800) then at least you deserve some good company and entertainment. What could be better than dashing and intelligent femme-fatales to keep you company while you slave away in camp and if you are a femme-fatale yourself, then the assorted variety of dashing young men are there to do your bidding - I mean it, you can go through three weeks in camp without spending a dime or lifting a finger, you just need the right *coughs* skill set.

Now where was I, ah yes, my entertainment. To top my luck, my new acquaintances were both pretty and petite - just my type - and they were both named Jennifer, both Jenny for short. I was simply put, at heaven's door! It was like having twins all to myself - I hope they never see this, my runz go scatta. At this time I should mention that I am a dashing young man, a catch for all you ladies out there and I had given myself that extra-fresh Dbanj look the day before, so your boy - my humble self - was looking fly!

[Enter camp]

My vehicle had to stop about a hundred metres to the camp gates so we could be searched and any potential insurgent/terrorist fished out and dealt with - see what Boko Haram has caused, mstcheew. I joined the queue along with other Otondos, another name for corpers or even White Foul (you’ll soon know why), and groggily passed through the military check points and cleared my registration. The Sagamu camp, the Ogun state permanent national service facility wasn’t bad at all. I was expecting the worst, to be honest, but I was pleasantly surprised. I hear it is one of the best in all of 36 states so I guess I was lucky - but I tenk God oo, Kro-kro and lapa-lapa for don kill me finish! I was given my accommodation and camp uniform; white shirt on white shorts with white shoes and white socks (hence, the White foul). I mounted my uniform and saddled up for the three week experience. 

Three weeks, hmmm, it can either go by in a flash or drag on forever, but that all depends on which side of the divide you choose to stand. Whether you choose to embrace the camp and its short comings or you want to complain 24/7 about every little thing, three weeks is three weeks and you are stuck in that camp - except your papa get leg/hand/mouth sha, then abeg bros no vex, pity us mortals. The daily routine, however, was almost always the same, wake up at 4:30am, be at the parade ground by 5:30 with the rest of your platoon - corpers are divided into groups called platoons, pray, sing the national anthem, sing the state anthem, sing the NYSC anthem (we sing taya), say the pledge, listen to the camp director, do some military drills and then man o’ war shenanigans. After war, sanitation then breakfast by 7:30, lectures next (deathly boring, but once in a blue moon manageable), then lunch at 1:30pm. I forget what happens in the rest of the time but then there’s dinner at about 7pm. Now that the boring stuff has been listed, the part you’ve all been waiting for…MAMME TIME!!!

Mamme time is the time when corp-members are free to roam around in mamme market, the period when the music goes up and liquid prohibition inhibitors, C2H5OH, come out - I’ll leave clues for what the funning look code means - the sights and sounds are sublime! Mamme time is the time to toast that babe or fine boy you’ve been eyeing all day long, please no dulling. Look let me tell you now, if you approach any babe/guy and s/he is forming activity for you, my friend, please on to the next one! I can personally guarantee you that there is a finer and better version out there waiting for you! In fact, if you can prove me wrong, I will bless your bank account! But they haven’t paid us allawee (allowance) for the month yet so you’ll have to be patient with me. 

My highlights of the whole experience would have to be the new friends I made, the knowledge I gained as part of both the maintenance and broadcasting teams, the funny way people fainted or feigned fainting to get out of parade and marching, the day we in the maintenance crew helped to save the lives of two young asthma patients and last but not least, when ‘Egbon mi Ookon' - 'My Number One Senior Bros’, ‘The One with the Special Cap’, Governor Senator Ibikunle Amosun CGFF attended our passing-out-parade and blessed us with an extra N10,000 each. The Governor is my personal person jare and rumour has it that he is positively transforming Ogun state. I am not saying this because of the blessing and I stand to be corrected. 

After all the camping, women chasing me - it wasn’t easy, dodging soldiers and general surviving, I made it home. My new greeting has become: Corper-Shun! Any time I have to move around in my NYSC Khakis I am flooded with a million and one greetings to which I have to dutifully reply: Shun! I believe the idea of the programme is beautiful, bringing together Nigerians from across the country to a place they have probably never been to interact and rid themselves of any prejudice. I pray that the spirit of the exercise will continually be fulfilled.

God bless you and God bless Nigeria!

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