1 The 3 weeks Orientation Camp
What more can I say about this, I’ve already said it all here: “A September to remember”. In addendum sha the orientation camp in Gboko is definitely the most interesting place I’ve ever visited.

2 My Mum’s passing away
This happened 3 months into my service year and was the saddest part of it all. I still vividly remember the last (phone) conversation I had with her at the Zaki-Biam market right after I made my first trip to neighbouring Wukari in Taraba State; it’s a moment I won’t forget.

3 Getting my Laptop
My Dad got that for me 4 months into the service year. It’s the best quantifiable gift I’ve ever received…and it changed my life in many more ways.

4 Bendra
I’m a softie at heart often falling In and out of “crush”. I got to know Bendra on the 1st of February. She, my phone pal now turned fellow corper kept me company many boring NYSC nights, particularly in February and March.

5 Becoming more Independent
NYSC being the cushioner before submerging into full blown adulthood it helped me become more independent as a person. Amongst other things I became cooking and job hunting certified and on another level Mum being gone and Dad being far away I learnt how to purposefully run my life.

6 The friends I made
Service year offered me the opportunity to make so many new acquaintances (a lot of them being people of my age) and have new perspectives on the behaviour of different people. Being that no man is an island onto himself that certainly was a big plus.

7 The Corpers lifestyle
Damn, it sure was good while it lasted. You know: the goodwill and respect showed to me because of my status, managing the allawee pocket change, my secondary school short teaching experience, the fallout with my employer, the partially ghosting months, my Ebonyi State corper to corper trip, my financial secretary portfolio, the community development service, our corpers’ week activities, my batch’s roundabout project runs etc. I’ll miss it all.

8 My increased Nigerianess (Tivness)
Service year made me a more complete Nigerian by my ten fold increased acquaintance with the Tiv ways. It’s during the time that I found out that I could be completely detribalized, and that’s after freeing my mind from the entire stereotype and bullshit our parents and elders instilled in us. I could be in a bus for hours and be the only one not able to speak Tiv and my mind would still be at rest…not feeling any uneasiness at all. On a lighter mode I can now distinctly recognize the Tiv accent. So if I’m out of the state and I hear a Benue man speaking I’ll most likely be like: “hey Dude you’re Tiv, how far now!”

9 Getting my mojo back on with the NIM exams
I’m talking about the NIM-NYSC Proficiency Certificate in Management exams. I studied, wrote and I’m sure will pass them well. It left me feeling personally fulfilled…you know erasing my procrastinating academic past and setting up myself for a glorious intellectual future. Of course my new found love for the library also helped in this revival.

10 Getting my Articles published in the NYSC 2006 Batch B souvenir brochure
Yep, two old blog articles of mine: “And time stood still” and “A day in the life of a Corper (Corps Member)” (this is still subject to confirmation though as the magazine is not yet out, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be good). I’m excited about this as it’ll be the first ever time an article of mine would be in print, although I’ve been countlessly republished online.

Smiling happy children and mud huts, a constant feature during my NYSC days

As an add-on if there’s one thing I have to say about the NYSC scheme it’s that for most participants it won’t likely be career and financially rewarding but engaging in the teaching (there’s a 9 in 10 chance of doing that for your primary assignment) and community development work under it is a life changing experience for the better.

I woke up in the morning, had a terrible headache, went to fix me a milkshake. Last night I got me some crazy head, from the girl living next door…wrong again! That’s from Modenine’s “head”. Ok this is me:

I wake up in the morning. Time check 8: am. I smile in acknowledge of Jah’s gift of yet another glorious traeday. Kev, my “roomlord” has gone to school so it’s a characteristic peaceful start for me. I do the clean up bit, test my newly acquired culinary skills and then I’m off to meet my CDS (Community Development Service) group members. Today’s our secondary school visitation; I’m due to give a talk on the dangers of drug abuse. Blimey! I’ve always been clean and I ain’t exactly Gbenga Sesan so why choose me? Anyway Dean has put me through on the talk thing and confidence levels are high. I make good use of imagery and examples with captivating packaging so I give myself a pass mark. But judging by my near embarrassment when asked “why drugs are still being produced if they’re bad for us?” I reckon I have to work on balancing eloquence with real talk substance at all times.

1: am sees me at the Local Government Secretariat for our delayed monthly Corps members signing and meeting. Our NYSC Local Inspector is unavoidable absent so the coordinating rights falls on my co-exco members and I. Over two hours later our work is done. Stormy issues are trashed out, personalities clash but the gentlemen corps members we are decorum is maintained and progress made.

I’m fagged out and so to Bebeto’s spot I go. I spend the evening hanging out and sipping easy with a quartet of my happening colleagues while nearby the NCCF (Nigerian Christian Corpers Fellowship) group are engaged in pious activities. Oteks the rugged lawyer is mouthing off and making everyone laugh as usual, Abayo the free spender is being typically generous, Chimex comes in here and there with his girl related observations while Owen brings life to the discussion with his South-South lingo. Of course Chizzy is being her characteristic nuisance with her endless spasmodic flashes and i-love-you-i-hate-you text messages. My alter ego trae_z begs me to switch off my handset and I swiftly comply with him.

To keep myself entertained I spend the night swange and kerewa dancing with the boys. The Teaching-Practice students in town are holding their send forth party and we’ve been invited to “grace” the occasion. Randy young men are all over the place and the Benue girls are living up to their hype. Trust the larger than life corper image in small towns, I’m generously allowed to feel on some booty. But like Cinderella I’m out before the clock strikes twelve. I’ve got free Globacom and MTN calls to make.

I call up my boys to get the latest on the “bolekaja presidency” and other necessary info. Of course there’s always something new to learn about. I reconnect with my orientation camp girl, Doctor Chick is reading and snubs my calls, Little Sexy Mama loves the bed and is fast asleep but Baby Face makes my night as usual with our marathon conversations. With her there’s always something interesting to talk about. My cell phone battery beeps and I hit the sheets around 4: am, joining the sleep realm where rich and poor are temporarily united in egalitarian brotherhood.

A big welcome to our new recruits: the March 2007 Batch A Corps Members. What type of corper will you be…brains, rugged or flirty?

Teaching as I see it is basically explaining what one knows to others. What you give your students they imbibe; you become the Alpha and Omega…students are so manipulatable! Anyways looking back at things now I feel that I could have done a much better job than some of the people who taught me when I was in school.

But talking about the present you should see the way I’m respected here. Good morning sir this, excuse me sir that. It’s all new to me and it’s a really pleasant surprise. Another pleasantry is going to be having a room to myself for the first time in my life! On the unpleasant side is the fact that there’s no strong FM radio or TV signal here! I never taught I’d find myself in such an information poor situation . Anyways thank God for compact discs. Hip hop album check: Modenine’s “Pentium ix”, check; Freestyle’s “free at last”, check; OD’s “don’t hate”, check and Pherowshuz’ “House of raps (rap-representaTIVs)”, check. I sure do hope to have a “SOUND” service year . Nice play on words huh ?

And for the really unpleasant: we’re “loosing” a lot of quality bloggers in the Nigerian blogosphere; it pains me a lot. Back in the day it was Teju Cole, Obifromsouthlondon followed suit weeks back and now it’s Sir Aihammed Delot. Because of that let me put you up on some (if you’re down with the blog thing). Your blog is meant to complement you and not to stress you. What I’m saying is blog easy and on your own terms. And please don’t put stuff that’s too personal online or stuff that you’ll regret later…especially when you’re not blogging anonymously. The internet has a very good memory you know…Ok class dismissed, i’m out.

To Sir with Love; great book, great film.

Date: 26th September 2006, afternoon hours in Gboko. Benue State Batch B, NYSC Orientation camp closing day. The impressive passing out parade graced by the deputy Governor just ended. Photographers anxious to de-stack are working on the double trying to convince corpers to collect their unclaimed pictures for half the price. All types of buses and taxis with their destination written on cardboard papers and smartly stuck on their windscreens litter the camp ground waiting to convey corpers to their place of primary assignment. Corpers themselves are doing a last minute property check. Bags now stored in a safe place temporarily or strapped on the shoulders everyone proceeds to fall in by number (form lines) one last time to collect primary assignment posting letters.

Excitement is in the air and Jokes on possible postings are sprayed back and forth. Finally the unknown becomes known. There are screams and shouts of joy, unhappy faces and indifferent ones in equal measure. Phone numbers are exchanged and question and answer sessions start all over the place. Suddenly everywhere starts to look like one noisy Jankara market scene. Ironically as I valuably gathered in the next three hours here is to turn into a graveyard. A total contrast to the activity ground it has been for the last three weeks.

The mammy market people and the locals watch us in amazement. Wide eyed like kids deeply engrossed in ant colony observation. Business is effectively over for them, they’ll miss the money but they’ll miss our company more. I find a seat at one of the joints, away from all the madness and I notice the Madam in charge is at the point of tears. Her facial expression is a mixture of fascination and sadness. Fascinated like a student just put through on how to solve a hitherto hard and time consuming maths question and saddened like a newly wedded bride whose husband has just being carted away to join the army.

The saying goes that on this day all three week romances end and all contracts are effectively terminated at the camp gates. I observe a love or lust struck girl following her hunky boyfriend about like a small kid does his mother as he makes his moves to leave the camp. And I shake my head and ponder the wonders of the human hormones. I got involved in a three week old…or two week old relationship as well and later on I’d have a rather formal parting with B. A poor ass one compared to the parting kiss of Chinedu and Joan of Big Brother Nigeria on eviction day.

Corpers bid farewell to each other, friendship crews are dissolved and everyone, the popular and unpopular on camp alike, goes scampering about looking for a ride to help them kick start the next stage of their service year. I munch my buns and gulp down the last bit of my Fanta Orange drink and then I bounce…or literarily hop on the bus. Vex not that it wasn’t the traditional parting whisky shot, I’m drink shy.

The Matrix’s “bullet time” move is the perfect example of time standing still. Brilliant!

The orientation exercise held at the Government Secondary School Gboko and I won’t be far from the truth if I said I enjoyed every single moment. Yep: the drills (jogging, marching, field exercise, endurance trek and military lifestyle), the snapping of random pictures, the social events (cooking, dancing, shows, football, volleyball, cultural dance and drama), the lectures, the mammy market chillings, the registration and allawee line hustles, the early morning wakes, the Gboko youth business sense; damn that was the life. I participated actively in camp and in my platoon activities. In fact I was sort of a busybody…in a good sort of way though. I read my platoon’s morning meditation (if you consider the fact that we had ten platoons of about one hundred and sixty five corpers each it’s something to be proud of) and I acted in my second drama ever, getting what you could call a standing ovation. Dude my platoon rocked, it’s a pity that the divisions for the rest of the service year is all about LGAs (Local Government Areas) and zones.

In the past three years I’ve never gone more than five days without accessing the internet but in Gboko I spent three weeks offline with only occasional newspaper reads for info and I didn’t feel like I was missing much! Mixture wise for every two female corpers there were three male corpers; the Yorubas dominated and some Muslim chicks with their hijab on 24-7 was something else. But we all had fun, shit felt like one Nigeria. I’ve never made so many friends or met so many “correct chicks” in such a small space of time like I did in my Gboko stay. And it was easy because every one was in a friendly state of mind. For the guys if you couldn’t step your game up during that period than believe you me you’ll never be able to do so anytime or anywhere else!

Upon leaving the camp the Batch A corpers in Ukum LGA (where I was posted to for my primary assignment) transported, housed, fed and guided us on our next moves. That was pure love right there, especially as we were no better than illegal immigrants who just came into new land at that time. It’s a favour I’ll never forget. Now that the camp is over I wonder how I’ll spend the next eleven months in Zaki-Biam (the town made headlines in 2001 for its massacre by the Nigerian army). Anyways if Mandela is still breathing after twenty seven years in prison then I guess all will be well with me.

Holding the NYSC flag on Mount Mkar (destination of our endurance trek), 21st September, 2006

A while back I used to be excited about the service thing. I had done my home work on what to expect and I was more than ready to go. But now I’m kind of far from enthusiastic. Minus the three weeks orientation camp fun, the shakara you get to do with your khaki and the little privilege and respect bestowed on you as a corper the scheme is basically a continuation of your suffering while in the university. (NYSC = Now Your Suffering Continues). Especially for us guys. We’re to spend one year working our butts off while collecting peanuts as salaries. The word “cheap labour” comes to mind right?

Anyways I’ve learnt that it’s all in the mind so I’ll try and proceed with a positive spirit. Hope to get to know more about the country, contribute my own part to nation building, make some new friends, grab some happy hours and make that money. I don’t know how the cyber situation will be in camp so I can’t say if I’ll still be regular online. But while i’m away you know the drill: say your prayers, brush your teeth and keep the peace . By the way where’re the good people of Benue State at? You know the number, holla at your boy.

My bro who’ll also be serving designed this website www.nyscbida.5u.com for NYSC Bida zone (Niger state). Check, check, check it out. I don waka, peace!

Hey Beyoncé, wanna sleep in my T-shirt? My dad owns Nasir Yakubu Shipping Company you know