50 things you probably didn't know about me

This post was inspired by taurean minx who was inspired by Low.

1. I had my first kiss in my twenties.
2. I attended an all girls secondary school.
3. I'm the second of four I have an older brother (We fought all through childhood and we still do occasionally. It is not my fault he always starts it), a fashionista younger sister and a teenage sister (although we still insist she's a baby).
4. I look almost exactly like my mom.
5. My name reminds one of a mother.
6. I cherish friendships to a fault and I’d sometimes go out of my way for people.
7. I have a sweet tooth. It's legendary. Ask my friends they'll tell you.
8. My favourite meal is rice (regardless of the form or dish it comes in I LOVE RICE) .
9. I HATE BEANS.I won't eat it unless I’m starving.
10. I've never been drunk in my entire life. I’m not sure i've had anything alcoholic either. Does palm wine count?
11. I'm allergic to malt.
12. My favorite color is blue.
13. Reading is not a love for me, it's a passion.
14. I love the smell of a new book.
15. I was a romance novel junkie. I still read the occasional one.
16. I have a problem with badly spoken English.
17. I have a problem with badly written English.
18. I love music and sometimes I wish I could sing well but alas, I cannot hold a tune. So says my baby sister.
19. I’ve never fainted in my entire life. Though not for want of trying or wishing.
20. I acted in my first drama at the NYSC orientation camp. My friends call it my one scene movie.
21. My favorite song changes every few weeks.
22. Whenever I find a favorite song, I over listen to it, until I get sick of it.
23. I’m not attracted to light skinned or skinny guys
24. I can't really dance as well as I would love to.
25. I'd love to travel and see the places that I usually read about.
26. I've just found out that I love shoes beautiful shoes, the ones I only get to see in mags or on the net but cannot afford.
27. I hate the way females are portrayed in Home videos and musicals.
28. I love GOD and I’ve come to a place where I can confidently say that I have a walk with him and I understand where I am.
29. I'm not very fat but i'm big which means i have curves in all the right places. And i love it. No diets for me.
30. My ultimate occupational goal is to run a bookstore and a software outfit. I even have names for them. (i won't tell you so no one will copy them before i get enough money to start. )

And lest I forget I’m a bloody romantic .

to be continued

CAN MY HEART TAKE IT?

(The Name that Launched a Thousand Letters)

It’s been seven years. In the beginning, it was beautiful. When I look back I realize that it was almost magical. It felt good to have a friend like “you”. I was so proud of me. I was able to be platonic no strings attached friends with a guy. The whole school including my closest female friends thought we were dating. They must have seen something we didn’t see.
First year was such a mess for me everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong. My glasses broke every week, had malaria every other weekend, misplaced things, issues with my friends, endless incidents. When I look back at that year I wonder how I survived it. But you were there steady as a rock, always there. Most nights you’d walk me to my room you didn’t have much to say but you always listened to me go on and on and on about whatever was bothering me at the time and sometimes God knows what. And when i was ill you’d come sit with me all day just to keep me company.
Now seven years down the line a lot of water has passed under the bridge. A lot of things have happened. We've hurt each other in ways that we couldn't possibly have imagined we could.The funny part is that You remember my hurting you but you don't seem to remember hurting me.

So now again we're back to talking (at least that's what it seems like to me) and you send me text saying that you miss me. I breathe thanks 'cos it leaves me feeling warm. But deep down inside my stomach is all tied up in knots. I wonder if it's real this time or if it's all a game or worse pity.

Whatever it is though, i just wonder if my heart can take it.

Now i know you're probably wondering who the above post is about. Its about someone special to me. I'll call him the name that launched a thousand letters. They say of Helen of troy (formerly of Sparta) as the face that launched a thousand ships ‘cos her beauty really did launch a thousand ships. I call him the name that launched a thousand letters ‘cos I must have written a thousand letters to him and about him. Some he got and some he didn't.
My sms.ac id is actually a reflection of how I feel about him. When I opened an account, he left a comment on my page. Reading it made my heart smile and it also made me sad at the same time. Sad because in a sense I felt like I had blown something that had the potential of being wonderful. However, I didn’t know this at the time and I also had my issues, a lot of things I had to deal with. I’m a very independent person so it’s really hard for me to allow people help me deal with my issues I always believe that I can do it on my own until it’s almost too late for any one to help me out.
Although I wasn’t the perfect "girl", at the time, deep down I wasn't so bad. I just needed to find me, and grow up. Sometimes when I look back at the last four years (my storm lasted four years) I wish things were different and wish I had done things differently but then I realize that the wealth of experience that I have garnered, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I just wish I could get one more chance with him, one final Dance with him. I'd play a song that would never ever end. How, I’d love love love to dance with "the name" again. Ohhhhhhh i'd really love that. But even if i didn't I’d still like to hug him, dance with him, kiss him in the rain,...............................

so at least I’ll have those memories to hold in my heart and to keep me in the cold days ahead

I just needed to blog about this stuff so that maybe i could get it off my chest.I hope I haven't bored you to tears.

GOING HOME

The next time i post i'll be doing it from a cybercafe. Nope i haven't lost my job yet (Coprpers cannot be fired we're Government children) its just that tonight i leave for Lagos. I haven't been to Lagos since i left home six months ago. I was supposed to leave on saturday but i had to wait to collect my census money(before someone else does so).

Now, i know i'm supposed to be happy and i am but i just can't seem to get rid of these knots in my stomach. I've been away from home far too long. I wonder what i'll find, i wonder what would have changed. Will i find that every thing has changed or will i find that somethings remain the same? I really don't like change and a part of me wishes that i could freeze time and find my home the same as i left it six months ago but i guess that's just wishful thinking.

But a huge part of me is just so happy at the thought of seeing my sisters and my mum again. I have missed them so. I was telling my friend the other day how much i missed my brother . Considering the fact that i haven't spoken to him since i left and the fact that we do not get along well, i truly must miss home.

So tonight i'll be going to Lagos courtsey Bestway Transport Limited my "flight" leaves at nine.

It'll be Goodnite Kaduna and Good morning Lagos. See you in Lagos.

LETTERS TO MY YOUNGER SELF

This piece, writing a letter to my younger self is actually Pilgrimage to self.'s idea. For about a week, i've been wondering what i would say if i was given the oportunity to write a letter to my younger self. As i thought about it, a time in my life came to me and i immediately knew what my letter would be about. Now my letter is not to a much younger me, its to the me of a few years ago.

Adunniola,
Hi, I know that right now you’re waiting impatiently for your life to “take off” in fact you’re wondering when it will. You feel you’re ready to take the world by storm. Right now, you’re brimming with confidence everything seems to be working just the way you’ve planned it. You feel confident intelligent, wise, savvy, lucky and beautiful. You think everything will work out just the way you’ve always dreamed it. And you can’t understand why you aren’t blooming like everyone your age. However, you have to understand that as a bud tightly bound around a beautiful rose, it’s all for a season and all for a reason.

In your blissful state right now, you probably feel that nothing could possibly go wrong but the winds are getting fierce and a storm is coming you just don’t feel it Slowly but surely a storm is coming and that is the reason your bud has not blossomed. A great storm will come, it will lash out at you, howling and screeching in its great fury, it will bruise your stem, it will bring you to your very knees.
In that time, you will feel ugly and stupid. You will question your faith and even your very existence. All around you will be bleak and dark and it will seem like the morning will never come. Now I hate to burst your bubble girl and I’m not writing all this to scare you. I’m writing it to guide you because in that time you’ll be too confused to think straight because all you’ll feel is your pain.

So first, you have to stop, see and listen. Stop your headlong rush to nowhere and consider your surroundings. Take in everything around you, see and listen to the people around you. In doing so, you might find some necessary provisions for the storm ahead and you might even find that the intensity of the storm coming lessened by what you will come to know.

• Tie up every loose end. Do what needs to be done NOW not tomorrow. Don't leave things till the last minute. Procrastination truly is the thief of time.
• Don’t be afraid to be you. Remember first impressions matter but try not to create false impressions.
• Relationships are meant to be nutured. They are not games or contests between you and him. Cherish what you have and give "him" a chance. When he says "I care, that's when i'm quiet" he really means it. Don't be afraid to give your heart and please when you don't have the right words to say, keep quiet.
• Don't be afraid to tell the truth to the people you care about. It'll hurt them more if you don't.
• Don't give up something just because it's hard or you've failed because you just might succeed at your next try.
• Put your roots deep in God's word. So that you'll be able to stand when the storm comes.
• Finally remember, the tight rosebud in the midst of blooming roses does not hide an ugly flower rather, knowing that the storm will come, it hides and nutures a beautiful, delicate blossom taking its time to create a masterpiece.

Your Older self

Adunni

FROM BURUKU WITH LOVE (CENSUS 2006)

.............So this is how the census went

Day 1
FIRST CONTACT

We got into buruku on day 2 of the census at about 9 a.m. We dropped our things at the Yula guest inn and immediately went in search of the coordinator (we were told that he was at a school which was distribution point for all materials for buruku). We met the coordinator and he immediately assigned us to our different S.A.s I got one S.A. comprising six E.A.s. he informed us that in our absence he had taken the liberty of assigning the different E.A.s to the enumerators and that they were already in the field. Therefore, we had to go to the field to try to locate our individual enumerators. Luckily, one of the enumerators assigned to me was at the school so he offered to show me round my S.A. so I could see the others and get to know them.

Under the hot buruku sun (its hotter here) I went in search of my team. We walked and walked but we could not locate any of them. Therefore, we went back to the school, where I met the seriki of my S.A. waiting to see me so he could lodge his complaint with me. According to him most of the people in his domain had not been counted neither had their houses been numbered. He spoke through an interpreter but his anger was apparent. I slowly began to realize the enormity of the job I had just started. It seemed that most if not all my enumerators could not read the maps correctly and had been doing what they wished. It took me the all day to find them, gather them together, go through the maps one by one, and reassign all of them.

Those that had started enumeration had filled the forms so badly that I had to re-issue new forms . One of them threw a tantrum ( a full fledged feet stamping one) at the prospect of re -enumerating again. I had to psyche her and plead with her before she agreed to do it again. By the time I had waded through the fine mess they had made it was already evening I was hungry, dusty and tired. All I needed was a cold shower, a meal and a bed. I went back to the guest inn and met another drama the supervisors were threatening to riot because the secretary to the district head had not arranged for our feeding and accommodation. He finally showed up at about 7 p.m. full of apologies he psyched us, paid us , arranged for the accommodation and bought us suya.
Then I was finally able to get my Shower, meal and bed (all in that order).

Day 2

SUFABISOR
How do you divide six E.A.s between five pairs of enumerators? That’s census math for u. I had 10 enumerators (later, I was given an additional 6) three males and seven females and they had to be assigned in pairs. I decided to give the last E.A. to whoever finished first(i didn't tell them though so they wouldn't rebel).

There's a serious shortage of materials. The coordinator has promised to try and get some . So we wait and wait under the sweltering sun. We finally took refuge under a big tree in the school compound (the classrooms are locked). I had to ration the little materials i had. My team kept coming back with all manners of complaints : sufabisor them no let us count them o , sufabisor them no want thumfrint, sufabisor the "porms" is "pinished" and on and on they went.

The heads of the individual e.a.s (they are called mai ungwar) were not left out, they all wanted a piece of the sufabisors : madam ba karatu gida ba karatu( they've not numberd our houses, and weve not been counted) , one even called me inbigilator(invigilator) all day long all we did was talk , pacify and talk some more for them to exercise a little patience. I must have finished all the little hausa i understood. Thank God for interpreters.

Later in the evening as we (supervisors) sat together in front of the guest house as we normally did, some truck drivers came up to us and asked to be enumerated as they didn't know when they would get home. They were from ibadan and it was refreshing talking to them. They made us laugh with the answers they gave. There and then i realised the difference between the average southerner and northerner. For example even though they were uneducated they knew how old they were , they knew their LGA and seemed aware of happenings around them unlike the average buruku man who didn't know his own age.

Day 3

The sun seems to be hotter today. I feel like im in a microwave . I enumerated the district head today. He is uneducated but i hear that he's a billionaire (he's into haulage and has a huge fleet of trucks). He seems intelligent but he is illiterate. His secretary swindles him because he(the secretary) is slightly educated. his billions do not reflect in buruku though. Buruku has only one school (the primary school holds in the mornings and the secondary school holds in the afternoon) , it has only two or three bore holes so most people drink well water or pure water which is brought from town.How sad.

Due to the terribly hot sun i asked the seriki of my E.A. for money so that i could get drinks for the members of my team and he gave me the grand sum of two hundred and thirty naira. All i could get was pure water and biscuits. I decided to do this everyday.

Day 4

On Saturday, which was supposed to be the last day of the census, the coordinator assigned four more e.a.s and four new enumerators to me. Although we had heard rumors that the census might be extended I did not take kindly to the extra workload. I had enough problems already most of my team had not finished enumerating and there were no materials for them to work with. Any way I just had to since every one else had two some even three S.A.s .

I met with the enumerators an old man, two married women (from same husband although only one showed up) and a young guy (probably a school cert holder). And I realized then that I had taken more than I could possibly manage . Of the two teams only the men knew what to do. The woman that showed up could write well and didn’t know how to enumerate (I doubted if she could even read at the time) and the other woman simply did not show up. My God wahala.

I asked the old man how he had been coping and he told me that he normally stood outside while she would go inside ask the questions then come outside to tell him then he in turn would write them down then she would then go back and take their thumbprints. Due to this fact, they had only managed to cover one of their E.A.s.

So I decided to join them to make it faster. We would go in together and she would act as an interpreter. We agreed to start the next day. I became the butt of other supervisors' jokes they even gave me a name (Sufabisor enumerator).


Day 5

ENUMERATOR
I started enumerating the E.A. today and I have been shocked beyond words by what I’ve seen. Just when I think there can’t be any other situation worse than this I’m rudely hit with something much worse. At the first house we entered we met a woman who had given birth thirteen times and only had five boys to show for it. She did not know how old her children were and none of them attended school. Their poverty is evident in their surroundings: mud walls threatening to collapse, dirt floors, and kids with swollen bellies, torn tattered clothing, it almost made me cry.

At the next household the situation was no better A young man probably eighteen or twenty at the most with a young wife probably thirteen or fourteen (they both don’t know their ages so we had to guess) with two children a one year old girl and a two day old baby. Next household was a little better wife was a tailor, she knew how old she was and she could speak English but the husband was a farmer and so ba turenchi (no English) by household five I almost couldn’t control my emotions (anger, wonder, pity ) I had to sit and try to calm my self .

In household five I get the rudest shock of my life. Head of household had five sons; the five sons had one wife each. The wives’ looked like little girls who had been playing with mummy’s makeup. Four of them had one child each. They didn’t know how old they were but I guess their age range was between fourteen and sixteen I was immune to that by now we asked for the wife of the fifth son and they said she was the amariya (New wife) it took a lot of begging by my interpreter before we were allowed to see her . When they brought her out I was shell-shocked she couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve thirteen at best. She looked sickly and when I asked what was wrong they all burst out laughing. My interpreter explained to me that she was pregnant I was stunned. My eyes smarted and for a minute I thought I would loose it right there. Which kind of maniac would have sex with this child? I had to take a minute to compose myself before I could ask her any questions.

The subsequent households were the same as five except for household fourteen where the head of the household had four wives and didn’t know how many children he had ( he had twenty- six, no birth control here) it took like three hours to enumerate his household .
In household fifteen I met a woman had given birth fifteen times but only had three daughters to show for it. Her husband had married three other wives and it seemed to me like she was bitter about it. She looked fifty but she had a one-year-old daughter (she was the most beautiful child I had seen in all buruku). Even the squalor of her surroundings did nothing to tarnish her angelic beauty. I ask her mother if she goes to school and she said no. I sat with her mother for a while and try to encourage her to send this beauty to school she grudgingly agrees (probably to get me off her back) and I sowed a brand new pencil into Miriam’s life.

I walked back to the guesthouse, my mind is a riot of emotions and I feel so privileged to have been born in the south.

Day 6

We quickly round up with the last E.A. and just as I’m about to say thank God its over I get another terrible shock at the last two houses. For the first time in my whole life, I see a child that has kwashiorkor. It’s a terrible sight. His mother’s mother was taking care of him. We asked her if he has been taken to the hospital but she says babu (no). What have you been giving him then? We asked and she answered mastina (maltina) and alheri (Ugwu).
Once again I leave the household with my mouth hanging open and my mind reeling.
As we made our way back we (he two enumerators and I), got talking the lady told me that poverty , ignorance and a terrible culture was the reason for all these things. So I asked why the district head doesn’t do something about it and she replies “the man is not educated so how can he know the benefits of education” I didn’t have any answer to that one.

Day 7

Corrections, Corrections, and more Corrections

All E.A.s have been covered (most of it anyway) and most of the enumerators have started submitting their documents. The mistakes are enormous; one enumerator (not mine) actually forgot to take thumbprints. When his supervisor brought it to his attention he went Ina zu wa (ill be back) and came back two minutes later this time the form had eight thumbprints (the household had four members) by now the supervisor was yelling and he went back and bingo the members household had increased to eight. He had apparently put his thumbprints in all the spaces and created fictitious names when he realized his mistake. All day I corrected and re corrected only to have them go back and make the same mistake over again.One of my enumerators said to me "madam walahi talahi this work i bery hard she is not easy, the feffle they are not cofrate"and when i laughed at him he said " madam the hausa man is not know how to dippretiate between fee(p),eph(F) and b(v)"

By evening the summary forms looked like rough and dirty.In the end I just collected the forms and hoped for the best. Then I began the extra wahala of signing the forms, while making corrections. I had asked them to write my name , number and initials on the forms to make my job easier but i didn't sleep until it was almost dawn. I must have signed over a thousand forms because I had ten e.a.s my bottom was numb.

Day 8

THE ECLIPSE

I woke up late cos i didn't get any sleep until dawn. I arranged the forms according to e.a.s and just as i finshed i heard shouts from outside. We all went out and saw that the sun was slowly loosing its brillance. Then it hit me it was the eclipse!!! i ran inside and grabbed my phone and took some pictures of it as it happened. The people were pointing at the sun and someone said that the school had closed. Though most of the people didn't know what was happening they didn't really panic they just exclaimed allahu akbar (God is great). Someone adviced us to look at it in a bowl of water and it was a magnificient sight. Buruku experienced a near total eclipse (it looked like it was late in the evening ) and im so happy that i experienced it .

In like fifteen minutes it was over and the sun returned to its usual brilliance. I Finally submitted the forms to the coordinator , packed my bags and we left buruku. On the way back even though i was fagged i felt happy. I had experienced the eclipse, i had served my fatherland, and i had had the chance to see how the other half lived.

WHEN WILL IT GET BETTER

I wrote this piece on my first night in Buruku town. Hope its not coming too late.

Right now, I’m writing this piece from Yula Guest Inn Buruku, off Lagos road Chikun LGA Kaduna State. Buruku is a hamlet about 30 mins away from Kaduna town itself. Actually it’s a run down place that’s used mostly by prostitutes and their customers (mostly overnight truckers). Now before you go “Buruku??????????????????” I haven’t been banished to the village by NYSC. And in case you were wondering, the answer is one word CENSUS.

Yep, that’s right, the 2006 population and housing census . I’m here as a supervisor. I had the fortune or is it misfortune of being posted here for the exercise. So while my mates got the luxury of staying in Kaduna town I’m here in this hamlet called Buruku.
I wasn’t initially picked to participate in the census only about 500 out of1617 corpers were picked in the whole of kaduna State. Initially I was sad (I’d been seriously considering the extra money to be made) but after a while I got over it and like every one else made plans for myself concerning the holidays. I was going to finish my VB.net e-book, rent a couple of movies and generally have a nice time. It was going to be a long lovely weekend for me (Kaduna state towed the FG’s line and only declared Friday and Saturday as stay at home days).

We were only recruited (albeit by force) after the NPC found out that most of the supervisors supposedly recruited for the exercise (with the exception of the corpers ) were stark illiterates the remainder were semi illiterates while some people were non existent. Apparently the NPC officials had fixed the names of their relatives, friends and in some cases totally fictitious names so that they could line their pockets.

After these things had been uncovered and coupled with the FG’s directive that all supervisors should be Corpers and external supervisors only, the NPC enlisted the help of the NYSC in getting as many corps member as possible to participate in the census and act as supervisors.
Trust the NYSC they used brute force to get us to participate. Not that we really would have minded but threatening us with extension of service was going a little too far.

I for example got the news from a friend. She called me on a Wednesday five days after the training started. The conversation went something like ………
Adunni: Hello
Concerned friend: Yetunde!!!!! Come to LEA primary school Maiduguri road right now.
Adunni: Kilode , Ki lo n sele , Se ko si ( what’s wrong, what’s happening, Hope all is well)
CF: o wa o (There's something happening) they say we must participate in this census o !!!!!!!!
Adunni: ehhhhh who?
CF: NYSC, they say that if we don’t participate we might get extension of service

At this point I panicked. Yeepa Who wants an extension? So I asked ………….

Adunni: Okay how do I get there?
CF: Take a bike and come down now now
CF: Come now wo business center ni mo tin pe e (I’m calling from a business center)

I jumped on a bike, got there and was immediately given a letter of release to give my employer. I also made panic calls to other friends of mine who hadn’t heard the news. When we found out that it wasn’t true that missing the exercise would get us an extension, a lot of people including myself were very pissed. We would have jumped at the opportunity (to make extra money) with open arms but threatening us with extension of service was a little too much.

Anyway that was how I got recruited talk about fire engine approach. We were hurriedly trained (2 days as opposed to six or seven days), and posted to various LGAs. I got posted to Chikun LGA and from there I was posted to buruku.

The whole ordeal got me thinking; when will Nigeria learn to do things the right way? When will greed and self interest stop being our motive for doing things? When will Nigeria be able to organize something and everything or at least most of it go smoothly? When ……..
The stuff we went through during the training, the stuff we heard, will shock even the most hardened person. The people qualified for the jobs were not picked, those who managed to be picked attended the training and at the end of it they were told that someone else had collected their id cards and hence their training allowance.

Some people who saw their names on the list attended the training only to find out at the end that a new list of personnel was brought and their names were not on it. On this new list some names appeared as much as four five times. Some people, after going through the hell of collecting id cards and payment clearances found out at the point of payment that someone else had collected their training allowances and signed. Stuff like this just makes me sad and makes me wonder if this country will ever get any better.
With all the so called reforms and all the alleged good stuff that’s been sold to the world by the government, its little things like this that makes one realize just how bad and just how corrupt Nigeria is.
And the people do not help matters at all. We turn on ourselves and start fighting ourselves instead of the people in charge. For example reports from different training locations in Kaduna told of how corpers were threatened by people. Our crime? They were dropped for us. This coming from these uneducated and in most cases stark illiterates was almost too much to bear.

When O!!!!!! when will Nigeria get better? .........................


Well anyways I’m here in Buruku and I’m wondering how this whole exercise will turn out.

Ill keep you posted

INTIMIDATED? YES ; AWED? CERTAINLY.

I FEEL REBORN

It’s been weeks since my first piece Drawing First Blood. I admit to writing that piece with the enthusiasm of a child learning a new game. After that first piece I gradually got into blogoshere (.....mostly by clicking on every link I could find). First of I realized that there were soooooooo many Nigerian bloggers and secondly they were GOOD. At some point I came to the conclusion that once again I had started something without really checking it out. I just saw some two blogs and went hey I can do that and bingo my blog was born.
Now after bragging about it to all and sundry I found out that blogging is actually more serious than I thought. The result? Instant writers block.

I wrote a piece about the Avian flu (me being in Kaduna where the whole show started in Nigeria and all) but I couldn’t bring myself to upload it so I let it go.For a long while I couldn’t even bring myself to write a single line . I contented myself with reading blogs instead especially blogs by Nigerians both men and women but I loved the women more than I loved the men ( I only liked three). They were charming, witty, original, thought provoking, inspiring, crazy and downright funny. Slowly i began to find inspiration from reading their blogs. They all made me realize that I wasn’t crazy and that there were actually people in the world who shared some of my views on things.

Pilgrimagetoself in describing her blog says “Making a different choice gives you the opportunity to live a different life” She couldn’t have said it better. That phrase sums up what my life has been and still is.
So finally I find that I’m able to put pen to paper again, having been inspired by all the lovely Nigerian ladies in the blogoshere.
And what then should my first blog be about? Yes, you guessed right it’s about defining and confronting my fears.
From now on its........................

I feel reborn..................................

Listening to a "seminar" under the trees

REMINISCING

How time flies. It's hard to believe it's been five months already since I first stepped into Kaduna state and the NYSC.
I visited the NYSC orientation camp today. My boss asked me if I would like to go and I jumped at the offer. I'd wanted to go for a very long time (I haven't been there since my last day of orientation last year). On our way there I was assailed by different emotions, nostalgia (at going back), wonder (especially when we passed through the endurance trek route)........................
Going back, seeing the old place filled with the familiar sea of white (corpers are expected to wear white t - shirts and white shorts) just got me reminiscing about my time there, going to the mammy market seeing the same old faces and some new ones (I actually found out that I was recognized by some traders at the mammy market, too much patronage I guess) and seeing the bungalow I stayed in during orientation (I had a wonderful time in that bungalow and made some great friends too) brought back memories of my orientation camp experience. I was filled with wonder and I kept asking myself How on earth did you survive those 21 days?

The soldiers, the morning exercises, the jogging (kilometers and kilometers), the inadequate and equally tasteless meals, the stupid guys (who thought camp was some sort of orgy) the commandant, Nysc officials, registration, endurance trek ..........................

How did I survive it? I don't know, but I survived it with a smile.
Let me take you back a little

DATELINE: September 5th 2005

THE CALL UP

The first stanza of the NYSC anthem reads "youths obey the clarion call" and so the journey to nysc begins with the nysc call up letters ( at this time you're expected to have graduated from the university or polytechnic hons or not). It involves collecting the call up letter from "school"and finding out which state one has been posted to.
This is a grueling task as the said letters don't reach the schools on time. By the time they finally do arrive, a combination of inadequate staff and the sheer number of people trying to collect the letters turn it into a nightmare.
For me it was made more nightmarish by my wanting to be posted to Lagos State (I had supposedly "legged" it but one couldn't be too sure about these things. I couldn't have been more right).
I got into the school at about 8 a.m (you have to be early to beat the crowds) so that I could start the wahala on time. We had to fill out countless forms, make so many photocopies it was like doing first year registration all over again. To crown it all I realized at the last minute that I would need a new passport for the new school id (trust unilorin to come up with something like that at the last minute), I was faced with a dilemma: go take a new passport and wait till tomorrow for the letter or................................ emi ke, i simply removed the passport on my bank passbook and used it (necessity they say is the mother of invention).
After all the stress, standing in the hot sun for hours in the very long queue and the anxiety from not knowing where I would be posted to, it was my turn with my heart in my throat, knees shaking, whispering every prayer I could remember (I wanted Lagos) I searched through the long list found my name, saw KD next to my name and burst into tears.

September 5th 2005

THE JOURNEY

Once I had collected my letter ( and gotten over the shock ) , i rushed back home to prepare for it . Well meaning friends who had served before me came and gave me advice on what to expect in the orientation camp, what to buy what not to buy (NYSC gives you a list of stuff to bring .. boarding school style) I have to say that the best advice I got was from my friend "y" she came to my place and really put me through the "paces" in fact she gave me a list of do's and don'ts they include;
1. Don't take anything youre not prepared to loose ( there are more thieves in camp than in the whole of kirikiri)
2. Don't overexert yourself
3. Don't do oversabi
4. Don't take too many pictures (I didn't take this one though)
5. Make 20 copies of each credential you have (it'll cost more in camp)
6. Have enough passports
7. Do buy a waist pouch (it'll be your mobile bank)
8.Keep it (waist pouch) with you at all times even in the bathroom
9.Don't participate in activities in the hope that it'll influence your primary assignment posting (you'll probably be posted to a village)

10.Take only the essentials and travel light
11.Take a pair of white shorts and some white T - shirts ( the ones issued by the nysc will most definitely be small)

And much more
After the marathon shopping, seemed that the whole of tejuosho knew that nysc camp was opening that week cos the price of white t - shirts shorts went up to almost double the price(trust Nigerians), the packing, photocopying and what nots it was finally time to go.

I'd been told that the only place i could get a bus going to the north was oyingbo so i'd bought my ticket in advance. I got to the park at about 6.30 p.m. all flustered and out of breath from rushing down thinking i would miss the bus ( when i bought the ticket i'd been told that the bus left at 6p.m. ) but alas the bus was still there and it was only half full (it didn't leave oyingbo until about 9 p.m. ) .

At probabbly 8 .15 p.m. the people in charge of the bus asked all passengers to alight from the bus for "final checking" we all did and each person was subjected to a thorough search from head to toe. The guys were patted down and we females had our bags searched with a scanner like device . Incredibly no one seemed to mind as i suppose it was for our own safety. After that we got in the bus and the bus finally pulled out of the park. As is customary with "marcopolo" buses there were "in flight announcements" ; switch off your phones , dont stand up and all that stuff.

After the announcements the resident "pastor"(each bus has one) started a service of sorts ( Ibos are the most religious people in Nigeria ) everyone joined in and we sang and prayed and even had offering time. I took part in it but at some point during his message the stress and sleeplessness of the past few days finally took its toll on me and i fell asleep. I didn't wake up until the bus stoped briefly in Abuja. I was so tired. i'd initially told the bus driver that i was going to the nysc orientation camp and he assured me that he would drop me off there, but little did i know that the man didn't know the place because he dropped me off about 18km after the camp (it's on the road down from Abuja) .

I alighted from the bus with my box not quite sure which way to go.I must have looked very lost 'cos an okada man came up to me and asked me where i was going to. I told him and he told me that i was miles from the place but he that he could take me there . I hopped on and he took off . On the way we struck up a conversation and he told me that he used to live in Lagos and that he could speak yoruba well blah blah .........

We went on and on and on until i began to suspect that he either didnt have any idea where the camp was or he was kidnapping me. On and on we went until we finally got to a settlement on the road and after a few meters, i saw the sign for the camp. I got off and asked my "friend " how much my fare was and he informed me that it was five hundred naira What!!? i screamed and he went "sorry madam this flace i very phar" in his crazy hausa English. I knew that, but as a proper omo "eko" i had to haggle and we finally agreed to two hundred and fifty naira.

I paid him picked my box and walked towards the gate. It was littered with so many banners different companies, churches, fellowships all welcoming the batch B corps "men"(In the orientation camp there are no females, only gentlemen corps members) to the black gold orientation camp kaduna. I breathed a sign of relief and walked in. I had finally made it.

Drawing first blood

Keeping a journal has always been a fantasy of mine. I say fantasy beacause i've only kept a journal once in the second semester of my first year in university. The other times i've been too engrossed in life to remember to keep one. There's always been something to do, something to finish, exams to write, endles things. This blog is my first real effort toward fufilling my fantasy of keeping a journal.

I'm not quite sure how this blog thing will work out......... hey i'm not even sure it will work out at all. But i sure will try. Right now im currently a youth corps member doing "time" in Kaduna state so a lot on this blog will reflect that. It'll be a collection of my experience so far, an honest critique of the program the good, the bad and of course the ugly.I'll try not to bore you with only NYSC stuff as i also intend for this blog to be a personal space where i can unburden my thots, vent my angers and frustrations while exploring my writing fantasies.

In a duel someone always draws first blood, so this is me welcoming you to my space and of course drawing the proverbial first blood.