My Service Year (Part 1)

The past eleven months have been some of the most interesting of my life so far. For most of this period I was stationed in Kogi state, where I was posted to for the National Youth Service corps (NYSC) programme. We passed out on the 7th of July and over the last coupe of weeks, during which I’ve become a very regular visitor to naijahotjobs.com, and trying to figure out which path to take at this crucial stage of my life, I have had a lot of time to reflect on a very eventful time in the “confluence state”.

My service year was my first taste of independence and detachment from parental control, or at least some level of it. I attended a day secondary school and during my university days I came to classes mostly from home also. For the first time in my life I began to earn some income. I was pleased not to always have to run to my parents for money to take care of my basic personal needs. Collecting money from my mother is never a problem but my father will always remember that he gave me X amount “only a few days ago”. “You spend money like this because you don’t work for it”, he will often say to me.

The first part of the NYSC exercise- the three-week orientation camp- was the toughest for me. I came into camp on the 26th of August 2008 with a serious attack of typhoid and malaria fever. The night before I left for Asaya-Kabba where the Kogi State NYSC orientation camp is located, I remember my mother telling me on the phone that since I was unwell I should call off my trip and wait for the next batch. But I just could not entertain that suggestion. Having waited almost two years after graduating to go for service, I did not want any further delay. Time was running out. Not that I was bed-ridden- I could walk and I could see, so I decided to take the plunge!

Getting up from bed at 4pm, at times much earlier, in preparation for the morning physical activities was not easy or funny especially in the early days. I have never been one to start my day that early, even when I was in school. After attempting it a couple of times, I discovered it was not really necessary to take a bath that early (with cold water) since I was proceeding to the field for activities that will result in a lot of sweating. It was also very cold at those times and considering my health it was not advisable to bathe with cold water that early. So I took my bath mostly in the afternoons.

The food provided in camp was poor, at times in quality but mostly in quantity. There was talk that the ladies in charge of the kitchen were taking much of the food (especially meat) home to their families, but this allegation was never substantiated. From day one I became a regular customer of the “Igbo Kitchen” located in the “mammy market”. I made a habit of downing a plate of akpu and bitterleaf soup every afternoon, and this continued in my place of primary assignment. This probably explains the somewhat protruding belly some people say I now have.

The sanitary condition and facilities were absolutely crazy. Water was not in adequate supply and a boy almost his life in an attempt to get water from a very dip well that appeared to be drying up due to the huge demand for water in the camp. Because I could not stand the sight of maggot-engulfed feces of different shades and colors in the toilet, I did most of my defecation in the bush at the risk of being bitten by a snake or other dangerous creatures that lurk around there. Many of us, including ladies, bathed in the open- a rainstorm had destroyed the make-shift bathroom for men. But some guys staying close to the female dormitory relished the sight of the ladies having their bath in the open. It became their favorite pastime!

You can always expect shenanigans in such a large gathering of young men and women full of life and energy. I never saw, but stories filled the air about a lot of sexual activity going on at night in the field, in the bush and in the make-shift church buildings located close to the mammy market. Two ladies were actually found in the trunk of the car of a visitor to the camp on his way out. One wonders why they had to go that far- that is if they really had to go out- when they could just have sat in the car and claimed not to be corps-members if they were asked at the gate. Or may be they personally knew the security men on duty that night.

I will not forget the lectures in the camp pavilion. A couple of them were interesting and enlightening just as some others were stupefyingly boring. I particularly benefitted from the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) Debate to Action (DTA) training programme. I made a lot of friends there. It was there also that we were told the very funny story (probably apocryphal) of a boy who was seen by security personnel on the opening day of camp with cutlasses in his bag. When asked what he was doing with them he said he understood from his call-up letter that we were told to bring some along. But what we were actually told to come along with in our call-up letters were cutleries and not cutlasses!

The days rolled by and many activities, including the much-anticipated endurance trek (the day after which a boy was found dead in his bed not too far from mine) came and went. There was the fire alarm night. This was the coldest night of that period. I was snuggled up in my bed when around about 2am screams of fire! fire! filled the air from the soldiers who were already in the dormitory chasing people out. I actually thought a real fire had started so my first thought was to find a way of getting my personal effects together. Then my senses came back and I realized we were being called out for a headcount. We actually heard that there was going to be such a thing, but no one knew exactly when it was going to happen. We were really taken unawares. There was also the camp fire night two days before the end of the orientation exercise. It was during and after this activity that most of the sexual shenanigans were said to have happened.

Meanwhile as the end of the orientation exercise drew close, a lot of “runs” were happening regarding posting to places of primary assignment. There was talk that one could “see” the NYSC officials in camp to be posted to areas of choice. Being the capital of Kogi State, most people were hoping to be posted to Lokoja where there appeared to be a better chance of having access to basic social amenities and living a comfortable and easy life. We had come to hear of strange sounding places like “Ogorimagongo”. The mere thought of being taken to such a place sent a chill down the spine of many. However Ogorimagongo turned out not to be as bad a place as initially thought according to those who finally ended up there.

The whole camping exercise finally came to an end on the 16th of September 2008. I was relieved and happy to leave- the stress was too much. Some people enjoyed it so much and jokingly said they wanted it to be extended. Some also shed tears as they said goodbye to friends. It was time to move to another level.