Sometimes I feel like waking up at the old McGregor college to the competitive snoring sounds of my roommates in ‘State House” hostel. Take shots of sun rise at the parade ground while listening to Shatel’s electronic voice as she reads the news. Announcing recovered items and also inviting the patriotic Corpers for a handshake with the camp Director. Eating starch later at Mami with my partner in crime as we try to bobo every ugly, fine, pretty, fat, slim, sexy female white foul that passes by including the beautiful ones who are not yet born. Showing Chiedum an abstract picture as she would try to invite me to fellowship. But i’ll always end up playing chess @ Mami with my fellow Otondo as we gulp down liquor from breweries while bitching about life outside camp and finally asking Cidi, the most preserved babe i met in camp, to keep seat for me and Osasu in the hall, trusting i’ll always make her laugh all through the boring lectures.

But here i am, waking up to this fog filled environment clouded with natural air condition, which reminds me of how beautiful this country is. Looking through the window without even being able to see the person next to me. Then i begin to ponder on how i got here; starting from the call-up letter addressed with “Dear Compatriot” printed out with anxiety. Anxiety that took me to the Old McGregor College where days are longer than nights and waking by 4:00am is an act you can’t run away from.

As the cold penetrates my sweater, which is actually supported with five shirts with smoke gushing out of my mouth without actually smoking. I begin to feel my heart freezing, my legs shaking and my rib cage hurting. Then, I start to remember everything I had stored up on my mental dairy.

I remember carrying my bag on my head as i frog jumped towards the gate.
I remember the long queues for food and water, and when it's about getting to my turn, either there would be no more water or the soldier would come to chase us.
I remember the abusive words used by the military men “you dey craze, god punish you, dem say mek your pikin come you say no; na you wan come by yourself, idiot oya double up, Otondo, Water bottle, Ogogoro white foul”.

I remember the songs with senseless lyrics, yet entertaining and motivating.
I remember how we always stand still whenever Nigeria is waking up.
I remember my wonderful roommates with their snoring competition.
I remember the evening I almost committed a mortuary offence. After rehearsing for three days and missing out my variety meal at the kitchen, only for our Assistant Platoon officer to come a day to the presentation of the drama and change half of the cast who had been rehearsing the roles. Replacing them with some funny faces i never knew were in my platoon. Claiming they were not acting well only for me to later find out that those who participated are liable to be posted to town.

I remember rolling in the mud with Chris one night for playing chess after light out.
I remember my platoon loosing out on almost all the competition yet we always came out strong and happy with hope. Because at the end history will always remember us for our impeccable performances, especially during the carnival and burn fire night, where we made history.

I remember when I was almost decamped for sleeping in my room instead of being at the lecture hall, I just decided to join my roommates in the act for the first time.
I remember how happy one of my roommate was, after successfully having sex in camp without being caught. He termed it as his highest achievement in camp, that he had to take some doubting Thomas in the room to the venue where they discovered the used condoms and the girl’s pant. Which was brought back to the room for confirmation.

I remember how i almost got my eyes plucked out by girls who wanted to know if i was wearing contacts.
I remember the girl who had a crush on me. She knew every damn thing about me in camp that i became so conscious of what i do and where i go.
I remember finishing a bottle of Whisky on the morning of our pass out parade. Being among the guards that day, I matched with the highest of moral, hearing "right left" instead of "left right”.

I remember Zidion photos; everywhere you go, Chioma and V.I.P phone charge
I remember my friend Osasu who also doubles as my brother.
I remember Chiedum, Cidikatu, Emma and his girlfriend, Obong-Owa, Eka-ete, Eddy, Ehis, Cifford,  Edidiong, Platoon leader and assistant, DOS, RSM, Camp commandant, Camp Director, Asst. Platoon commandant for his support in building our burn fire house.
I remember the entire Platoon 2, Statehouse crew and our "ever ready to win" most vibrant military personnel I’ve ever met “sir Har”.

As the fog begins to wear off, I have to prepare for my Primary Assignment. But my fear is this cold weather, this ever refrigerated environment. I pray I don’t have an attack today. I MISS CAMP

I also went through all this.......... I miss camp

Wow! This is interesting.

[b]On April 29th, i was at a cybercafe browsing when my phone rang,i looked at my phone to see who the caller could be and it was my friend, Emeka who was a fellow prospective corps member." This one wey Emeka dey call today e be like say call-up letter don show," i said,i then picked up the call." Guy you know where dem carry you go?," he asked, this question threw into an abyss of confusion that i was wondering what he mean't by that question. "Guy wetin you mean?," i asked, "Guy call-up letter don show o, na Ogun state dem deploy you go" he said. I could feel my spine vibrating from the wave of shock sent down to it by this news. Few mins after i dropped the call, i went online(NYSC website) to confirm what he told me cos he might be playing pranks with me and alas! It is true. Printed my call-up letter and started envisiaging how my journey to Ogun state would be like, the first time i would going to the South-West. Arrived camp a day before the opening day and we were permitted into the camp and given access into the hostels to lay our head for the night before registration commences the next day.
.
.
.
.
To be continued.[/b]

[b]We were given access to water on the night of our arrival at camp to enable us take our bath against registration the next day. I dashed into sleep in the early hours of the evening due to lots of stress i went through that day. At 2:30am when the night rest's beauty was at its peak, i was roused by voices humming outside,stood up from my bed bunk to take a look outside from a window to know what is happening and my eyes couldn't believe what it saw; saw prospective corps members making hay to freshen up at such ungodly hour in order to get a better side of the queue during registration. "I no go carry last na," i said to myself. I hurridely freshened up (like am already late to catching a flight), carried my luggages and headed towards the camp gate where registration will commence from. Stood in a long and unending queue until the day finally broke. The soilders were smiling at us giving us "una go hear am " look. "Na today una go know say khaki no be leather," one of them said. Registration commenced 9am and i had to stand on a long queue with the worms protesting for food(like the Osun State unpaid workers) in my tummy and i could do nothing but pray it gets to my turn where my luggages has to screened in order to hinder me from taking any unwanted object into the camp. The weather suddenly turned gloomy signaling that it wants to rain which left most of us standing in the long queue muttering under our breath. Finally it got to my turn and my luggages was screened. Seconds after screening, it started drizzling that i had to pull an Usian Bolt stunt. Ran as fast as i could to prevent the rain soaking i and my relevant documents. Finally got under a shed and waited for the rain to stop so i can perpetuate registrations.........
.
.
.
.
To be continued.[/b]

[b]12:00 pm,the rain stopped it's pelting and i had to continue with registrations. Headed towards registration for allocation of a room block and a bed,after i was done with the bed/room allocation, i went for the collection for my NYSC kits which i accomplished around 4pm. Walked back gracefully to my hostel to check out my kits and to find something to eat to put a halt to the protest going on in my tummy by the worms only to hear the sound of the bigle signalling that all prospective corps member (as we were addressed before swearing in ceremony) that has collected his/her kit to move to the parade ground. As an otondo wey i be, i hurridely put on my white outfit,NYSC tag,and white tennis shoes to hit the parade ground. Came out from my hostel only to receive a special treatment from one of the soilders,"Hey you there,you are walking? Jump like a frog will you?!," he shouted at me,i had to obey orders and heeded to his commands. Little did i know that the punishment was to prepare me for the worse that will come throughout my 21 days stay in camp. He dismissed and i jogged down to the parade ground only to see white outfit everywhere performing some military routine. They were in packs and i joined a pack and followed to carry out specific orders that were dashed out. "Preeee shiiiiioooon!," one of the soilders shouted and i was carrying it out with bitterness."Where you want make person wey never chop since morning gather strength from to do this kind thing?", i muttered under my breath. We had a 2hrs drill which we were dismissed back to our hostels at 6:30pm, a massive relief it was to me as i made way to the Mami market(a market within the camp) to find something to eat,later had to settle for a plate of fried rice and headed back to my hostel to take a long awaiting rest.
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued[/b]

Maxcollins042:
[b]12:00 pm,the rain stopped it's pelting and i had to continue with registrations. Headed towards registration for allocation of a room block and a bed,after i was done with the bed/room allocation, i went for the collection for my NYSC kits which i accomplished around 4pm. Walked back gracefully to my hostel to check out my kits and to find something to eat to put a halt to the protest going on in my tummy by the worms only to hear the sound of the bigle signalling that all prospective corps member (as we were addressed before swearing in ceremony) that has collected his/her kit to move to the parade ground. As an otondo wey i be, i hurridely put on my white outfit,NYSC tag,and white tennis shoes to hit the parade ground. Came out from my hostel only to receive a special treatment from one of the soilders,"Hey you there,you are walking? Jump like a frog will you?!," he shouted at me,i had to obey orders and heeded to his commands. Little did i know that the punishment was to prepare me for the worse that will come throughout my 21 days stay in camp. He dismissed and i jogged down to the parade ground only to see white outfit everywhere performing some military routine. They were in packs and i joined a pack and followed to carry out specific orders that were dashed out. "Preeee shiiiiioooon!," one of the soilders shouted and i was carrying it out with bitterness."Where you want make person wey never chop since morning gather strength from to do this kind thing?", i muttered under my breath. We had a 2hrs drill which we were dismissed back to our hostels at 6:30pm, a massive relief it was to me as i made way to the Mami market(a market within the camp) to find something to eat,later had to settle for a plate of fried rice and headed back to my hostel to take a long awaiting rest.
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued[/b]

you try. Keep it up

LogoDWhiz:
Wow! This is interesting.

tanks

davidufuoma:
tanks

Uwc!