wow. this is an interesting read. i am hoping to read more from you. i like the way you narrate the whole experience without unneccesary details.

Please ooh! whats green card?

Borno !
Even me de fear that side.

Throughout my orientation period at iseyin camp, I ate only at the mammy market. I don't 've the patience to be on the line waiting for food like refugees...the best part of nysc programme is the orientation .

Is this the Dutse Ma camp? Was there for mine in 2001 very cold and dry during the hammattern season. A cup of hot team from across the field becomes cold in no time. It was fun though. Never remembered carrying half of what you had on the checklist. No GSM then just the old Nitel analogue system enjoy your stay.

Bluezy13:
Nothing to expect.
Na automatic redeployment.



If at all Borno still dey list.

So, I will go through at least 4yrs STRESS in a Nigerian university ( and some from abroad) only to be posted to the volatile North. My siblings + I that did NYSC had it in the West, the farthest being Kwara State ( Kwara, Ekiti, Ondo) and I was even complaining. NYSC should PLEASE be scrapped. The allowee money can be given as capital to Corpers after some few months of entrepreneurial training. Thanks.

bigtt76:
Is this the Dutse Ma camp? Was there for mine in 2001 very cold and dry during the hammattern season. A cup of hot team from across the field becomes cold in no time. It was fun though. Never remembered carrying half of what you had on the checklist. No GSM then just the old Nitel analogue system enjoy your stay.

2001.

Nigeria still good na..
Lol

sharone21:

So, I will go through at least 4yrs STRESS in a Nigerian university ( and some from abroad) only to be posted to the volatile North. My siblings + I that did NYSC had it in the West, the farthest being Kwara State ( Kwara, Ekiti, Ondo) and I was even complaining. NYSC should PLEASE be scrapped. The allowee money can be given as capital to Corpers after some few months of entrepreneurial training. Thanks.

You're welcome

NYSC Diary Day 4: Camp, The Place Lectures Come Alive

First of all, thank you all for the kind words of encouragement. Updates will flow everyday unti day 21!

5:40 AM
It is Friday, and now, all our activities have started to become routine. Wake up, make a dash to the tap for water, go to the bathroom, dress up, head to the parade ground for devotion and morning drills.But now there is more, and it’s because we have been sworn in.

Now, Nigeria has her own sleeping and waking hours, our dear country whose citizens work tirelessly. We are told that every day, whenever the bugle goes off at 6:00am, we are to stand still. When the same repeats itself at 6:00pm, we are to stop and stand still. I want to ask, “But what if I’m in the middle of dying?”(I will not die in Jesus name *eyeroll*) Orisirisi has started to happen in camp, but I don’t even know it yet.

8:00 AM
One of the orisirisi that is happening is the fact that we have now been left to ourselves. Not in a completely independent way though, we have soldiers who act as our platoon leaders. I am in Platoon two, and you won’t believe all the drama my eyes have seen.



But wait first, let me tell you about one orisirisi: lectures. Yes, being bonafide members means that we will be “killed”with lectures. The first one is something on security and protection of lives and property, how to safeguard yourself from attack, how to help corps members develop adequate sense of security. It is an interesting lecture, if I will be honest, but I really just want to sleep.

We head to the parade ground for the drills. Now that we do things according to platoons, it is a little more informal, not the kuku kill me drills that will have you questioning if you’re receiving punishments for sins your ancestors committed.

Being left alone means that everything is now a competition. Everything. And every eye is on the lookout for the platoon that will emerge as the best. You know Nigerians na, everyone is now attempting to outdo themselves.

A brief gist about my own platoon: a guy was voted in as the head. A lady wanted it first; she is the one who has been in charge of everything platoon related including creating a WhatsApp group, handing out kits to people, etc. Long and short of it, a lot of us already saw her as platoon head.

Only for soldier to say that we’d have to select/vote in our leader. When lady came out, soldier said no, that a lady cannot be the head. Because why? Because she is a lady, and ladies are the ones who faint the most since they cannot handle the pressure and heat of the sun.

My people, na so kasala burst o.

Okay, maybe not exactly sha, but we dragged it for long. Asked soldier if there was a rule stating that a lady cannot be head and must be assistant alone. Soldier said no. Then why can’t we vote her in? No cogent reason. When it was time to vote, our lady had four votes. The guy had over twenty five.

Only ladies faint, only ladies faint, but today during evening drill, about five guys fainted. A number of these guys faked it, but doesn’t that tell you something?

Breakfast was bread and tea (as usual) and a boiled egg. I keep my egg for lunch, and pay N50 to have an egg fried. I add Milo and Peak powder milk to my tea, and each time I sip it, I remember that it is only one life I have and that I must chop it properly. Na Borno dem post me to, no be kill I kill person.

12:45 PM
Another lecture. This is how we don enter am. We gather at the parade ground, under the pavilion. It is hot, cramped. This lecture is one we are delighted to hear. It is about how to redeploy. Just imagine the joy that erupted from us when the man began to speak. In a way, I feel for those officials. I imagine them thinking, “Look at these ingrates. We feed you, accommodate you, and this is how you repay us? Corpses are scum!” But duh. It will take only God to keep some people from not relocating out of this place.



I've gotten a column to share my story on https://www.zikoko.com. Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-4-camp-the-place-lectures-come-alive/

NOTE THAT I WILL STILL SHARE UPDATES HERE DAILY

I thought u forgot to post today's update, As I came here to check by 12pm.

Borno State, The Home Of Peace.

BigCabal:
NYSC Diary Day 4: Camp, The Place Lectures Come Alive

First of all, thank you all for the kind words of encouragement. Updates will flow everyday unti day 21!

5:40 AM
It is Friday, and now, all our activities have started to become routine. Wake up, make a dash to the tap for water, go to the bathroom, dress up, head to the parade ground for devotion and morning drills.But now there is more, and it’s because we have been sworn in.

Now, Nigeria has her own sleeping and waking hours, our dear country whose citizens work tirelessly. We are told that every day, whenever the bugle goes off at 6:00am, we are to stand still. When the same repeats itself at 6:00pm, we are to stop and stand still. I want to ask, “But what if I’m in the middle of dying?”(I will not die in Jesus name *eyeroll*) Orisirisi has started to happen in camp, but I don’t even know it yet.

8:00 AM
One of the orisirisi that is happening is the fact that we have now been left to ourselves. Not in a completely independent way though, we have soldiers who act as our platoon leaders. I am in Platoon two, and you won’t believe all the drama my eyes have seen.



But wait first, let me tell you about one orisirisi: lectures. Yes, being bonafide members means that we will be “killed”with lectures. The first one is something on security and protection of lives and property, how to safeguard yourself from attack, how to help corps members develop adequate sense of secur inity. It is an interesting lecture, if I will be honest, but I really just want to sleep.

We head to the parade ground for the drills. Now that we do things according to platoons, it is a little more informal, not the kuku kill me drills that will have you questioning if you’re receiving punishments for sins your ancestors committed.

Being left alone means that everything is now a competition. Everything. And every eye is on the lookout for the platoon that will emerge as the best. You know Nigerians na, everyone is now attempting to outdo themselves.

A brief gist about my own platoon: a guy was voted in as the head. A lady wanted it first; she is the one who has been in charge of everything platoon related including creating a WhatsApp group, handing out kits to people, etc. Long and short of it, a lot of us already saw her as platoon head.

Only for soldier to say that we’d have to select/vote in our leader. When lady came out, soldier said no, that a lady cannot be the head. Because why? Because she is a lady, and ladies are the ones who faint the most since they cannot handle the pressure and heat of the sun.

My people, na so kasala burst o.

Okay, maybe not exactly sha, but we dragged it for long. Asked soldier if there was a rule stating that a lady cannot be head and must be assistant alone. Soldier said no. Then why can’t we vote her in? No cogent reason. When it was time to vote, our lady had four votes. The guy had over twenty five.

Only ladies faint, only ladies faint, but today during evening drill, about five guys fainted. A number of these guys faked it, but doesn’t that tell you something?

Breakfast was bread and tea (as usual) and a boiled egg. I keep my egg for lunch, and pay N50 to have an egg fried. I add Milo and Peak powder milk to my tea, and each time I sip it, I remember that it is only one life I have and that I must chop it properly. Na Borno dem post me to, no be kill I kill person.

12:45 PM
Another lecture. This is how we don enter am. We gather at the parade ground, under the pavilion. It is hot, cramped. This lecture is one we are delighted to hear. It is about how to redeploy. Just imagine the joy that erupted from us when the man began to speak. In a way, I feel for those officials. I imagine them thinking, “Look at these ingrates. We feed you, accommodate you, and this is how you repay us? Corpses are scum!” But duh. It will take only God to keep some people from not relocating out of this place.



I've gotten a column to share my story on https://www.zikoko.com. Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-4-camp-the-place-lectures-come-alive/

NOTE THAT I WILL STILL SHARE UPDATES HERE DAILY

Sir, where did you do your primary assignment in Borno State?

BigCabal:
NYSC Diary Day 4: Camp, The Place Lectures Come Alive

First of all, thank you all for the kind words of encouragement. Updates will flow everyday unti day 21!

5:40 AM
It is Friday, and now, all our activities have started to become routine. Wake up, make a dash to the tap for water, go to the bathroom, dress up, head to the parade ground for devotion and morning drills.But now there is more, and it’s because we have been sworn in.

Now, Nigeria has her own sleeping and waking hours, our dear country whose citizens work tirelessly. We are told that every day, whenever the bugle goes off at 6:00am, we are to stand still. When the same repeats itself at 6:00pm, we are to stop and stand still. I want to ask, “But what if I’m in the middle of dying?”(I will not die in Jesus name *eyeroll*) Orisirisi has started to happen in camp, but I don’t even know it yet.

8:00 AM
One of the orisirisi that is happening is the fact that we have now been left to ourselves. Not in a completely independent way though, we have soldiers who act as our platoon leaders. I am in Platoon two, and you won’t believe all the drama my eyes have seen.



But wait first, let me tell you about one orisirisi: lectures. Yes, being bonafide members means that we will be “killed”with lectures. The first one is something on security and protection of lives and property, how to safeguard yourself from attack, how to help corps members develop adequate sense of security. It is an interesting lecture, if I will be honest, but I really just want to sleep.

We head to the parade ground for the drills. Now that we do things according to platoons, it is a little more informal, not the kuku kill me drills that will have you questioning if you’re receiving punishments for sins your ancestors committed.

Being left alone means that everything is now a competition. Everything. And every eye is on the lookout for the platoon that will emerge as the best. You know Nigerians na, everyone is now attempting to outdo themselves.

A brief gist about my own platoon: a guy was voted in as the head. A lady wanted it first; she is the one who has been in charge of everything platoon related including creating a WhatsApp group, handing out kits to people, etc. Long and short of it, a lot of us already saw her as platoon head.

Only for soldier to say that we’d have to select/vote in our leader. When lady came out, soldier said no, that a lady cannot be the head. Because why? Because she is a lady, and ladies are the ones who faint the most since they cannot handle the pressure and heat of the sun.

My people, na so kasala burst o.

Okay, maybe not exactly sha, but we dragged it for long. Asked soldier if there was a rule stating that a lady cannot be head and must be assistant alone. Soldier said no. Then why can’t we vote her in? No cogent reason. When it was time to vote, our lady had four votes. The guy had over twenty five.

Only ladies faint, only ladies faint, but today during evening drill, about five guys fainted. A number of these guys faked it, but doesn’t that tell you something?

Breakfast was bread and tea (as usual) and a boiled egg. I keep my egg for lunch, and pay N50 to have an egg fried. I add Milo and Peak powder milk to my tea, and each time I sip it, I remember that it is only one life I have and that I must chop it properly. Na Borno dem post me to, no be kill I kill person.

12:45 PM
Another lecture. This is how we don enter am. We gather at the parade ground, under the pavilion. It is hot, cramped. This lecture is one we are delighted to hear. It is about how to redeploy. Just imagine the joy that erupted from us when the man began to speak. In a way, I feel for those officials. I imagine them thinking, “Look at these ingrates. We feed you, accommodate you, and this is how you repay us? Corpses are scum!” But duh. It will take only God to keep some people from not relocating out of this place.



I've gotten a column to share my story on https://www.zikoko.com. Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-4-camp-the-place-lectures-come-alive/

NOTE THAT I WILL STILL SHARE UPDATES HERE DAILY

Please don't abandon us here oh.

ProudBornoBoy:



Sir, where did you do your primary assignment in Borno State?

Still in camp.

homesteady:


Please don't abandon us here oh.

Not at all

NYSC Diary Day 5: What Did You Hear About Platoons?

5:20 AM
The sound of people wake me: “Dry clean your clothes, dry clean your clothes.” When I sit up to look, I see that they are men and young boys carrying white plastic bags filled with clothes to be dry cleaned. I fall back into bed and close my eyes. I am tired. I do not want to go to parade. I do not want to do anything. I simply want to leave this place. It will be a hectic day, I can sense it.

Last night, A. told me to help him get a bag of water. When I returned with the water, he had gone to the clinic for his night shift. A guy came to me for water, but I told him it wasn’t mine, so I couldn’t give him. He left. I also wanted some water, but I couldn’t take A’s water, it wouldn’t be right, since he had not seen it, so I left the water untouched and went out to beg for water elsewhere. Now imagine my anger when I wake up to find out that someone has torn open the bag of water and taken out of it. I rage, but F. tells me to calm myself; not everyone will be like me. I leave for parade still pissed.

Yesterday, Platoon 1 was in charge of everything: sanitation, kitchen duties, security, etc. At the parade ground, they are told that they performed badly. Today it is Platoon 2’s turn. I am in Platoon 2, and I know that this kind of thing na work.

7:45 AM
Work begins. I am assigned as the sanitation head, and told that everyone will be involved in the sanitation. The Platoon Leader deploys some people for security shifts. His assistant does the same for people who will be in the kitchen. Trouble is brewing. While we are taking the roll call, a lady asks me who made you secretary? Did they choose you in public or in secret?

“Sweet baby Jesus, fight this battle,” I think to myself.

9:16 AM
It takes working closely with people to discover their true characters. And in the few moments I have spent with the people in sanitation, I am starting to discover that many people are sweet and dedicated while some people, good as they may seem, are quite deficient in that moral nutrient called respect or courtesy.

10:03 AM
Breakfast is pap and akara. Honest to God, it is a great meal. I didn’t have dinner last night, so it’s a welcome relief. I mix in milo and some powdered peak milk. It feels like heaven.



Yesterday, I signed up to join the OBS. But while other camps just absolve interested members, audition them or something, our own OBS here is something else. We are asked to design a program, submit it on or before 10:00 AM, and then the man in charge will decide if we made it in or not. I submit my own assignment, help the assistant platoon leader to submit hers too. We wait to see of we’ll make it.

OBS is the Orientations Broadcasting Service, the body that handles media in NYSC camp.

2:00 PM
Lunch is eba and egusi soup. I am in the kitchen, assisting in its preparation. I help to cut the pepper, wash the meat. I attempt to blow dirt out of the egusi.



While at this duty, I realise again that decorum is a costly thing when it comes to some people. Take this Bros for instance. He is loud and rude and every adjective for people who think they can talk, must be leader of the group they belong to, cannot listen to anyone’s opinion, cannot have anybody rule over them, and always objectify women. Picture such a kind of person. Add that he likes to talk sex and other lewd things in public.

He spearheads the conversation about ejaculation and kayan mata and girls he’s had sex with and will have sex with and so on. He sings Saheed Osupa (which I like, to be honest, because my Dad played his songs a lot while I was a child). He picks a fight with the assistant platoon head. He talks about her in third person: “Some people always think that…” You know, that kind of thing. We manage to curtail that nastiness. But little do we know that it will soon end in tears.

Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-5-what-did-you-hear-about-platoons/

This pattern sha.

Still...

Nice story.

NYSC Diary Day 6: How Soon Is Too Early To Want To Leave Camp?

5:03 AM
It’s Sunday. The first Sunday on camp, and as soon as I wake up, I know that I’m going to drown myself in a river of sleep. Activities such as morning parade, devotion and meditation, are not going to take place today. I cannot be more glad. We are free to dress as we like until 12 when we are to return to our whites

Fellowship hour is 7:30 till about 11 am. I spend those hours doing laundry, cleaning my side of the bunk and rearranging my things. I do not go for breakfast.

1:01 PM
I visit the staff canteen for breakfast which has of course become lunch. I settle for bread, fried eggs and tea. Lunch comes not long after; Jollof (concotion, really) and chicken, can you believe it? I’m partly full when it arrives, so I eat only half of it before I get tired. I spend the hour arguing about what university is the best while telling myself I should get up and do something better with my life.

3:45 PM
We are back on the parade ground. This begins my show of shame. We are asked to march, but I keep messing up the commands, keep forgetting how to halt. I swear, it’s the chicken they gave me. I know that I am not entirely useless. I know it deep down within me. So you can imagine my deep hurt when the soldier drags me out and casts me on the rubbish heap with the rejects who cannot march. Later, he says we should go to the field and clap for the footballers. Just imagine.

My God will judge you, Mr. Soldier. MY GOD WILL JUDGE YOU.

6:10 PM
The bugle has just been blown; Nigeria has been laid to rest, no pun intended. I am supposed to join the other rejects in their clapping and cheering duties, but God forbid. A whole me, clapping and prancing like something inside hot oil? Again, God forbid. I spend the rest of my time filling in my redeployment/relocation form.

A brief information about the relocation form: it is the form that facilitates your relocation to another state. The form was given to us and is to be submitted today, with a handwritten letter requesting relocation to Bleep state on security grounds. In the form, you fill in your name, course of study, call up number, state code, reason for relocation, and the state you’re relocating to. I’m relocating to Canada, just in case you want to know.

7:03 PM
Did I tell you I signed up for OBS and got in? If I didn’t, then I did. And tonight is our first meeting. I am assigned to the programs department, for current affairs. We are drilled: be punctual, think of how to generate income, drive people’s attention, make them listen to you. We are reminded that we have only two weeks to shake things up, and we better make the most of it. By the time we are done, dinner is over. It’s yam pottage and fried fish. I like pottage, but sadly, I missed it. I end up scooping powder milk into my mouth for dinner. Didn’t they say eat dinner like a beggar?

Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-6-how-soon-is-too-early-to-want-to-leave-camp/

Good work.

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BigCabal:

Still in camp.

Ok, I pray you get posted to Biu or Maiduguri, that's if you won't redeploy.

NYSC Diary Day 7: What Is SAED And Why Is It Pronounced ‘Saheed’?

5:03 AM
I leave for the parade ground without taking a shower. When I woke up a few minutes earlier, I felt tired. Really tired. I lay in bed and ignore everyone trying or not trying to wake me. It will be a good day, I thought. Just me, sleeping myself away. But then the soldiers barged in and my dreams were shattered. There was no time to take a shower. I simply brushed my teeth, washed my face and dashed out.



On the OBS (Orientation Broadcasting Service) group chat, there is a message asking us to be at the studio by 6:00 am. A delight, because it means I am exempted from parade. At the introductory session, the Camp PRO told us that if we join OBS in order to escape parade, we are wrong. But look at me now. I skip to the studio, happy that I will be skipping parade after all, Camp PRO’s words or not.

The studio is empty; I am the only one present and soon, the head of OBS, a fellow corps member comes in to tell me that it is a must I attend morning parade and that I can come back after it is over. “Oh really?” I say. I look happy on the inside as I go to the parade ground, but deep down inside me, I’m die.

Platoon 1 is in charge of Morning Meditation, but because they failed to submit their write up to the Camp PRO for edits, their presentation is dead on arrival. Tomorrow it will my Platoon’s turn, and suddenly everyone is turning, asking how far with it, and are we good to go?

7:27 AM
I’m at the OBS studio, being generally useless but still looking useful, since everything to be done has been taken over by these ladies who, apparently, are either true OAPs or studied Mass Communication. There is an argument about phonetising which basically is a warning to presenters not to use fake accents. Opinions fly about, but me I am hungry. When the bugle sounds for breakfast, I make my way there immediately.



Breakfast is pap and beans. It’s been 756,289 days since I ate beans, and tasting one spoon of it feels the way I imagine an orgasm must feel.

10:15 AM
Lmao beans and pap as breakfast is a scam. I WANT TO SLEEP! I wonder if there’s a sleeping medicine in the food, but I doubt it. Someone says that pap induces sleep, and there’s nothing to worry about. There are plenty WebMDs on this camp, sha.



Today begins our SAED meetings. SAED (Skill Acquisition and Entrepreneurship Development). This is one thing I dread, because every time ex corps members talk about it, they tell stories of how boring it is. I don’t know why they pronounce it as Saheed.

10:45 AM
The lecture is as predicted: boring, the crowd, rowdy. We are given a booklet on entrepreneurship, another booklet on accounts. A man referred to as the accountant tells us the importance of having your bank account before leaving the camp so your allowance can be sent into it. In between this lecture, I drift from sleep to wakefulness. My mind fills up with unnecessary trivia—will I ever find the love of my life? Two plus two will give you four, so in two, three years, some of these people will be married. how do people find love in camp sef?



I joke with the people seated next to me to keep awake. I pay no attention to the lecture, even though bits and pieces of it keep floating into my head: “We teach people craft. What business idea do you have? We can provide loans for you. Who is an entrepreneur here? is your business registered with an association?”

Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-7-what-is-saed-and-why-is-it-pronounced-saheed/

OP quick question.... it is a must you must stay in camp during the 3 weeks.. can’t you stay in a hotel?

seedord247:
OP quick question.... it is a must you must stay in camp during the 3 weeks.. can’t you stay in a hotel?

Of course you can stay in a hotel you just have to sign in on the first day of camp and you can come back at the end of the 21days,after all your father is the DG.

NYSC Diary Day 8: What Do You Do During A Man O’ War Drill?

5:00 AM.
I wake up full of joy even though I am tired and would like to go back to bed. Today is Platoon two’s day to take the morning meditation. The topic is Patience, and I—yes me!—will be the one taking it. I wrote it too, then submitted it to the Platoon Leader and Assistant Platoon Leader to crosscheck it before I took it to the Camp PRO, a man so efficient he’s almost scary. They all liked it. Actually, scratch that. They all LOVED it. The Camp PRO said to add one more paragraph to wrap it up and then we move.

Today is also our Man O’ War drill, which means we have to dress in our khakis full. 7/7, as they say it.

6:30 AM
I’m so relieved, excited and energetic; I want to scream, jump, weep, and do anything. The Morning Meditation went well. It went so well, the Camp PRO said, “What a brilliant work by Platoon 2. I believe other platoons can see and take note.”

My platoon screams. This is the talk that will make me famous, such that when my name is mentioned, someone will respond with, “The one who read the Morning Meditation? Nice one. You killed it, you really did.”

Take that, other platoons, hahaha.

6:47 AM
“Who go tire? Na you go tire!”

“Corpers wee! Wa!”

Man O’ War drills begin in earnest. We jog from the parade ground to another side of the camp.



It is more fun than parade, but it is also backbreaking. We jump up a stilt and walk to the end using our hands alone. We crawl through a tunnel. We swing from a thick rope. We climb through another tunnel covered with barbed wire. At the end of each activity, photographers mob us: “Look here!” “Smile!”” Look up” “Yes corper look at me, look this way.” It’s like paparazzi mobbing a celebrity. I feel like a hero, like I have saved Nigeria from one huge disaster.




We end the drill with a lecture: do not steal money from Nigeria; don’t go abroad, you too can fix your country. Say God bless Nigeria every morning. Low key, I’m like “Alaye jor jor.”



Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-8-what-do-you-do-during-a-man-o-war-drill/

NYSC Diary Day 9: What Are The Chances I’ll Meet The LOML In Borno?

5:27 AM
Back to being a regular platoon person. Back to going to the parade ground which, to be honest, I am now starting to enjoy. I am supposed to be at OBS by 4 AM for broadcast, but a local man cannot can. I wake up by 4:19 AM and I realise that with this OBS thing, some battles have to be left for the Lord to fight, so I return to my bed until people begin to move about, waking me from my sleep.

Today’s meditation is handled by Platoon three. They speak on loyalty. Nigeria wakes up. Our platoon leader takes roll call. As soon as he calls my name, I sneak out of the parade ground.

It’s my 9th day on this camp. It is the first time I will be on air as a newscaster.



7:50 AM
News casting goes well. I was slated for headline review. K. and I reviewed headlines from Punch, The Guardian, The Sun, The Nation. When it’s over, the head of the news department hugs us. She is excited. I go on to grab breakfast.

Breakfast is yam and stew. The yam is like a pestle, something you can hurl at someone if you intend to kill them with one blow. Just throw it and boom, they’re dead and gone. Mine is soft, sha. But K.’s is hard, and even though we fry eggs to go along with it, she ends up throwing hers in the bin, half eaten.


9:03 AM
SAED lectures begin, my sleeping pill that never fails. But this lecture is interesting, and it is because we talk about money. Corps members’ allowance, incentives, etc. Now this is an interesting thing that people posted to Borno state should note:

There is the option for automatic redeployment when you are posted to Borno state. But if you choose not to redeploy, you get N10,000 as state allowance; you get posted to the capital, Maiduguri; and you get free accommodation. There’s more, I heard, but it looks like they are unveiling it slowly. Me, I think it’s a ploy to get us to stay back. The incentives are attractive, but I am thinking of the distance, the fact that I’ll probably see my family just once throughout the service year. And maybe all the opportunities I’ll be missing?

Anyway, there is the opportunity of thinking things through. And if I don’t like/want where I relocate to, all I have to do is not make any move within 21 days, and I’ll be relocated to Borno state. There’s still so much I need to learn about this, and I am certainly waiting. Who knows if I will meet the love of my life in Maiduguri, Borno? Who knows?

12:00 PM
We are deep into our SAED skill. I belong to food processing (catering, abeg leave big grammar and packaging) and we are learning how to bake cupcakes. And they’re a beauty, aren’t they? Love of my life, if you’re reading this, look at the skill I’m adding to my husband material CV.



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NYSC Diary Day 10: How Do People Have Time For Cultism With Camp Stress?

6:30 AM
Technically, we are now edging towards the second half of NYSC camp. Today is the 10th day, and in 11 days, I will be back home. The routine is pretty much the same: early rising hours, soldiers banging at doors, the bugle blowing like an annoying thing that it is, morning meditation, parade, etc.

Something new happens this morning during meditation: four people are called out, and the camp director announces that the police will help them pack their bags to the gate.

Ghen ghen. Do you remember Bros? The one who caused trouble in the kitchen on the day our platoon had kitchen duties? He is one of those called out, and this is when everything goes skrrr. We are told to continue with our activities, but who can do that? We listen for our numbers on the roll call, but all the while, our eyes and ears are trained to the place where the people to be sent out of camp are being interrogated. Eventually, I learn that Bros fought with a camp official and when he was told to keep shut, he kept at it, asking, “Do you know who I am?!”

For minutes, we keep up our banner of pity and make excuses for Bros: Yes, he is lousy, but can they please be merciful? They should pardon them na, as per first time. In a way, I think that this is the reason why Nigeria is slow in attaining change. We hate an attitude, and when such an attitude receives its due, we make excuses for it.

All of us in this country should please pick one struggle, abeg.

7:50 AM
I am on air today again, and it is fun, as always. I join U. in presenting the Current Affairs and Today in History segment. At the end, K. and I get the tag which declares us OBS members. This is the tag that grants us access to get out of parade and other duties, except duties coordinated by devils in guise of soldiers. OBS does not mean you’re not going to do other things, we have been told. But then one can be disobedient once in a while, yeah?

When I get the tag, I tell K., “Let’s go and paint the town red.”

Breakfast is pap and beans, and like the first time, I achieve an orgasm as soon as I taste my beans. It might not be your taste, but one man’s vegetable salad is considered goat food by another man.



9:50 AM
SAED lectures again. We learn about digital marketing, which I find very interesting. Interesting enough that I do not sleep a wink, and I attempt to answer a question on browsers and search engines. At the end, I am given a knapsack which is something I have always wanted since.

10:01 AM
We begin our work of baking. Today, we’ll ice it. The instructor dishes out the procedures which I won’t share with you, because if you want to know, you sef come to NYSC, Borno camp. Yep, I went there.



Note this: anytime it comes to free food, people lose consciousness of their humanity. You should have seen some of these fine girls and boys shouting because of a slice of cake. Hard guy, hard guy but ordinary cake and home training goes on flight mode. Tueh.

Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-10-how-do-people-have-time-for-cultism-with-camp-stress/

NYSC Diary Day 11: How Much Pepper Can Camp Show You?

6:00 AM
The longer I spend here, the more I want to go back home. So far, it is fun mixed with hard work set to make us better citizens. But to be honest, is this training having any effect on people yet? Take Bros for instance. You know he was meant to he decamped yesterday? Well, I heard he was pardoned and told to write an undertaking. I don’t know what is in that undertaking, but I am sure that it must be something on being properly behaved till camp ends.

Now you can imagine my wonder during morning mediation when I see Bros in all his peerless generosity dispensing abortion tips to the ladies. Like, from where to where, Bros? You no suppose dey mellow? But Bros is in his element, talking about how hot peppers can help a pregnancy disappear.

Today’s morning mediation is commitment. Perhaps it is safe to say that Bros is only being committed to his ways.

8:14 AM
Off air. I have just read the news, and if I’m to describe how I feel, I would say I feel a mix of elation and disappointment. Here’s why: I was slated to read the news in pidgin and I had been excited about this. Only to hear that morning news cannot be in pidgin but in English, and that pidgin might be considered later, but English is paramount. So even though I am excited to finally read the news and not just do a newspaper review, I am still a bit flattened about this refusal to allow me speak pidgin.

Breakfast is bread, tea and boiled egg. I relax at the OBS studio. Soon, the bugle sounds. It is time for SAED.

12:03 PM
Here’s one thing you should know about Fridays in NYSC camp: if you’re a Christian or a Muslim who for some reason best known to you decides not go to Jumat or a traditionalist, Friday is one of the days where you get almost four hours of idle time. Once SAED practicals end by 12PM, you’ll be let off. Muslims prepare for Jumat around this time and don’t return until lunch which is by 2PM. 2PM is about ths time we have lunch, and on their return, lunch is probably being served or about to be. You take lunch, siesta, and when it is almost 4PM, the bugle is blown for evening parade which will most likely begin by 4PM. So, free time!!



At SAED practicals, we learn how to make fruit salad and vegetable salad. Thanks to the sudden twist of the universe, I become the trainer’s unofficial PA and amplifier who echoes whatever she says to the class. What this means is that I get to stand beside her, help throw things away, take pictures with her phone. You know, those kinds of thing that make people call you a teacher’s pikin. Me, I kuku want to eat extra salad because I did not pay for practicals. I left class earlier yesterday and I didn’t know that they contributed for today’s practicals.

In the end, I ate extra salad as I planned. My labour did not go in vain.

Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-11-this-camp-don-show-me-pepper/

Keep them coming...Great stuff!

NYSC Diary Day 12: As Camp Winds Down, We Get Close To Gbas-Gbos Territory

6:30 AM
Today is the day that my luck will shine, but I don’t know it yet. I go through the daily rituals (wahala, actually) of waking up in NYSC camp and head to the parade ground and after everything ends. Shebi you know that we do morning and evening parade? Well, this morning is when we will test what we have learnt. This means that all platoons will march like we are doing the march past on Wednesday, which is the day of the parade proper.

We get in line. Everyone is tense, because the camp commandant is present and every platoon wants to outshine themselves. Me I am just worried about doing the right thing.

Anyway, we march. Round and round the parade ground until our jungle boots are coated in dust and we look like something from the Dust Age (is there something like Dust Age sef?) My legs and yansh hurt, all that clenching of butt to stand at attention and locking your knees so your legs can swing as stiff as a log of wood.

Breakfast is pap and akara, and I am halfway into it before I realise that they’re repeating food in this camp. I don’t blame them, because to be fair, how many kinds of food do we have in this part of the country? How many, eh?



11:08 AM
Shebi you know I said that luck shined on me? Now is the time. On Thursday, the day that SAED people did Digital Skill Acquisition and I got a knapsack, they gave a topic and said that there will be a debate. The topic is The Role of National Youth Policy in the Development of a Nation. Maybe not in that exact order sha, but that’s the general idea. So they said that all platoons will debate on it and winners will be selected. My platoon people nominated me for the debate, but I just didn’t put it in mind. Actually, none of us did. Too much camp stress and you expect us to have debate in mind? Make debate dey debate himself, abeg.

But these people came today again, and fiam, they said “Oya o, debate people come out, it is time.”

For a minute, I was this confused crab from Sponge Bob, because where will I start from?



I Googled stuff, did what I could, and then went up to talk rubbish, very sure that I was even blowing grammar bombs. So imagine my surprise when my platoon was announced as the third position. Like!

Funny enough, we tied with Platoon 10 which my friend F. represented. Na so we dey o, two friends, bunk mates and former course mates winning in Katsina. Cash prize for third position was N2,000. Me I did good boy and went to hand it over to platoon leader. In the end, it came back to me, but not until I did Father Christmas of 50% (do the maths) for platoon people.

Here’s a picture of the envelope, so it won’t look like I didn’t give you something.

Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-12-as-camp-winds-down-we-are-nearing-gbas-gbos-territory/

NYSC Diary Day 14: A Crash Course On How To Make Doughnuts In Camp


6:30 AM
The countdown begins; NYSC camp will soon become a thing of the past. But before this happens, the soldiers are bent on showing us who is superior. It’s another day, another round of drills and marching and wondering what exactly all this will amount to. I go through the activities of bathing, brushing, and dressing up a little confused about what I am doing. Let’s be honest, do we understand what we as doing in this Nigeria?

8:30 AM
I am on air again. I host the current affairs and today in history segment. Today, I bring a twist to the show — interesting facts about the human body. Did you know, for example, that when you kiss someone you pass on 278 bacteria to them? Relax, you Farm Equipment. 95% of these bacterias are harmless. You’re probably thinking, “Only 5% are harmful, no wahala,” but think of mouth odour. What if it is caused by the remaining 5%? You better stop kissing entirely. Something that is not even sweet.

Breakfast is pap and beans, as per recycle of meals. I add milo and peak milk to the pap, and mehn, issa cruise.

1:15 PM
Chopist class. And I am here to enjoy it to the fullest. ENJOYMENT GALORE. We are learning how to make doughnuts. The instructor tells us about the punctured doughnuts, the non-puncture(d) ones (that is, doughnut wey no get hole for centre), jam doughnuts, glazed doughnuts, etc. Then we set about mixing our dough and leaving it to rise, kneading it, rolling it and then cutting it into pretty circles of dough. We place them on a tray and set it out in the sun so it can rise again.



In the meantime, we learn how to make a pancake and I am given a bit of it to taste, but someone smacks it out of my hand to the floor after I take one bite. Shebi you see that bad belle full everywhere.

Anyway, we fry the doughnuts and they come out brown and fluffy, with some of them having a slight crisp that makes it even more enjoyable. And it’s hot too. Imagine this kind of delicacy going with a bottle of cold Fanta.



I swear, after this SAED training, na to go open shop remain. We’re going to do gizdodo tomorrow. I don’t know what that is, but I’m guessing a combination of gizzard and dodo.

Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-14-a-crash-course-on-how-to-make-doughnuts-in-camp/