As promised Part 2 is published........
EK/12C/0247 was the number sighted on my tag as I bounced out of the registration hall, so excited that I have achieved something I later discovered was God's special blessing for me. I took a quick look back and saw the multitude waiting impatiently for their own turn to be registed, just then I heard a rumble in my stomach, I strolled down to the "maami" market, there I settled the war between my stomach and I.
Corper Corper..kai, e no easy sha. The struggle continues. Quickly I walked towards the pavilion, located my platoon spot and collected my kits, a jungle booth, 2 pair of white with green stripes socks, 2 white polos, 2 white funny looking shorts, a NYSC crested vest and a NYSC Khaki wear. Then I walked straight to my room, after receiving my kits, and I still remember the photographer snapping me as I walked to the hostel, that photo was superb, it was like I had giant legs and taking giant leaps. Getting to the room, I was greeted wit complains of some of my mates, "rubbish cloth, e no even size me", "which kind cloth be this one na", as the funny complains kept coming, we were laughing seriously, though I haven't opened or worn mine. Quickly I wore mine, oh it was very funny, I looked like the legendary Micheal Jackson and Jackie Chan, as my trouser was so far from the ground, well, I solved the "jumping trouser syndrome" by stocking the tail ends of the trouser into my socks, and decided to wear it that way at all times.
Writing each detail of what transpired between NYSC and I will be so much that Facebook will call me to delete some, but let me share the funny and interesting part of the scheme.
Tuesday 6th and Wednesday 7th of November were grazed with registration, oh several registrations, well, the good news was that we were obedient to the call, though not everyone,but "na who wan collect slap from army,eh?, so man gats maintain o". We had a general meeting where all the daily drills were properly explained, rules and regulations were pointed out. The funniest part was when we were instructed to always be on our white polo on white shorts whenever we stepped out of our halls/hostels, no wonder we were nicknamed "white chicken".
Some weird things transpired in camp, things I have decided not to write on, but let me share a little on such things, we were told to come out every day for 3weeks at 5am, an instruction that made some people sick, some skipped the morning meetings, frankly speaking, the whole exercise almost felt redundant, especially when you are not interested.
I joined my platoon in football competition, drama and cultural dance, made cool friends but was careful not to blow my little savings at the "maami" market, for sure I lost some weight in camp after all the compulsory early morning drills, parade practices, carefully measured meals, and general stress. The camp experience was fun, but let me fast forward a bit to the day I got my posting letter, I still recall telling Emeka, a friend I met in camp, and Goodness, a wonderful young girl, that we will be posted to the same local government area.
Immediately, after the deputy governor of Ekiti state, though now late, completed her short speech, though I wasn't listening as the Sun was so hot that it wanted to drain the blood from my skin, all I recalled was when she said "go and make Ekiti proud", anyway, we all bounced to the posting hall like a hungry Lion chasing it's prey. Before I located my number, letters had already been served to those that made it on time, it was an interesting one, the place was noisy, as you need to concentrate solely to the official calling your own range of number or you will miss out. EK/12C/247...247...247 cried the man then I bounced to pick the letter, legs shaking, hands sweating, heart pounding, and eyes dimming as I read the bold prints "EFON-ALAAYE" , "BIOLOGY", I was not happy and I was not sad, because I had prepared to go to where ever destiny allocates me.
Sighting a board boldly written " Efon-Alaaye LGA, Small London" in the hands of a Tall black guy, I asked him, is it true that the place is a small London?, having seen what London looks like in pictures and movies, I pictured a small London to be almost like the Big one, I later found out his name was Daniel Adoyi. I dragged my luggage into the bus headed for Efon alaaye, after a while, we moved into the Journey, then unknown but now known...
Part 3 cometh soon...............
EK/12C/0247 was the number sighted on my tag as I bounced out of the registration hall, so excited that I have achieved something I later discovered was God's special blessing for me. I took a quick look back and saw the multitude waiting impatiently for their own turn to be registed, just then I heard a rumble in my stomach, I strolled down to the "maami" market, there I settled the war between my stomach and I.
Corper Corper..kai, e no easy sha. The struggle continues. Quickly I walked towards the pavilion, located my platoon spot and collected my kits, a jungle booth, 2 pair of white with green stripes socks, 2 white polos, 2 white funny looking shorts, a NYSC crested vest and a NYSC Khaki wear. Then I walked straight to my room, after receiving my kits, and I still remember the photographer snapping me as I walked to the hostel, that photo was superb, it was like I had giant legs and taking giant leaps. Getting to the room, I was greeted wit complains of some of my mates, "rubbish cloth, e no even size me", "which kind cloth be this one na", as the funny complains kept coming, we were laughing seriously, though I haven't opened or worn mine. Quickly I wore mine, oh it was very funny, I looked like the legendary Micheal Jackson and Jackie Chan, as my trouser was so far from the ground, well, I solved the "jumping trouser syndrome" by stocking the tail ends of the trouser into my socks, and decided to wear it that way at all times.
Writing each detail of what transpired between NYSC and I will be so much that Facebook will call me to delete some, but let me share the funny and interesting part of the scheme.
Tuesday 6th and Wednesday 7th of November were grazed with registration, oh several registrations, well, the good news was that we were obedient to the call, though not everyone,but "na who wan collect slap from army,eh?, so man gats maintain o". We had a general meeting where all the daily drills were properly explained, rules and regulations were pointed out. The funniest part was when we were instructed to always be on our white polo on white shorts whenever we stepped out of our halls/hostels, no wonder we were nicknamed "white chicken".
Some weird things transpired in camp, things I have decided not to write on, but let me share a little on such things, we were told to come out every day for 3weeks at 5am, an instruction that made some people sick, some skipped the morning meetings, frankly speaking, the whole exercise almost felt redundant, especially when you are not interested.
I joined my platoon in football competition, drama and cultural dance, made cool friends but was careful not to blow my little savings at the "maami" market, for sure I lost some weight in camp after all the compulsory early morning drills, parade practices, carefully measured meals, and general stress. The camp experience was fun, but let me fast forward a bit to the day I got my posting letter, I still recall telling Emeka, a friend I met in camp, and Goodness, a wonderful young girl, that we will be posted to the same local government area.
Immediately, after the deputy governor of Ekiti state, though now late, completed her short speech, though I wasn't listening as the Sun was so hot that it wanted to drain the blood from my skin, all I recalled was when she said "go and make Ekiti proud", anyway, we all bounced to the posting hall like a hungry Lion chasing it's prey. Before I located my number, letters had already been served to those that made it on time, it was an interesting one, the place was noisy, as you need to concentrate solely to the official calling your own range of number or you will miss out. EK/12C/247...247...247 cried the man then I bounced to pick the letter, legs shaking, hands sweating, heart pounding, and eyes dimming as I read the bold prints "EFON-ALAAYE" , "BIOLOGY", I was not happy and I was not sad, because I had prepared to go to where ever destiny allocates me.
Sighting a board boldly written " Efon-Alaaye LGA, Small London" in the hands of a Tall black guy, I asked him, is it true that the place is a small London?, having seen what London looks like in pictures and movies, I pictured a small London to be almost like the Big one, I later found out his name was Daniel Adoyi. I dragged my luggage into the bus headed for Efon alaaye, after a while, we moved into the Journey, then unknown but now known...
Part 3 cometh soon...............
1 comment:
Hmm. More interesting!
Post a Comment