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Stats: 1,928,824 members, 3,972,906 topics. Date: Saturday, 16 December 2017 at 04:01 PM
|Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by waywardpikin(m): 9:29am On Apr 22|
I stared at my call up letter with a look of shock on my face, shock slowly turning into a huge smile. I had been posted to Lagos - The city of hustlers. The irony of it was that I never chose Lagos as any of my choices. I had chosen Benue, Abia, Kano, and Ogun state, all horrible choices to me. Fortunately my elder sis had introduced me to this guy who worked her posting for her years back, so it was with plenty fear that I transferred the required sum into his account. I had already told myself that if it was a scam that I would take it like that, after all such is life. This is despite assurances from my sister, whom I trust with my life. In Lagos, if mugu fall guy-man must chop, and no matter how smart you are you cannot always be a guy-man, sometimes you must be the mugu. But alas, it all worked out! I had already bought all the paraphernalia that I would need for service as far back as November 2016 before realizing that I was one of the unfortunate people that had been relegated to stream 2. At the time it was the most painful thing, and I found myself wondering who I had offended. Thinking back to all my past girlfriends, I was hoping that none of them stripped Unclad in the night to curse me. Cos I had been through a lot prior to this moment; school issues, clearance wahala, inexplicably being exempted from senate list, etc. The thing be like say person swear for me abeg…
So you can imagine my happiness – a whole me, Lagos corper? My bank account was swelling with cash, money that had accrued after hustling over time waka-ing the length and breadth of Lagos. Hell, I almost bought a car. So in the days leading up to when we were supposed to resume at camp, I was literally in cloud nine. As a matter of fact, I was in cloud nine for the full three weeks I spent in camp. Wayward Pikin go show them fire! And you know what, I really did. I showed them hell…
Loneliness had seriously dealt with me for the period I’d spent at home. Not that I couldn’t get a girl to date o, just that I could never find anyone I really liked, and I had also become ensnared in a cat and mouse game with an ex who put herself above all else even her present boyfriend (the poor dude). I kept enduring those periods of loneliness and semi-depression with one thought and one thought only:
‘When I get to camp I’m going to find The One.’
I believed that so much with all my heart, I dunno why. I felt like Ted Mosby from the show How I met Your Mother. So ladies and gentlemen, my name is Wayward Pikin and I’m going to be gisting y’all how I met my super amazing NYSC bae.
In the meantime, guess who couldn’t get over the fact that he was finally a Lagos Corper?
NP – If I start to talk - Tiwa Savage ft Dr. Sid
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|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by waywardpikin(m): 10:08am On Apr 22|
As a wayward pikin, one of my major concerns was how I was going to cope in camp for three whole weeks without my favorite diva MJ. By MJ I mean marijuana. The three weeks stretched in front of my eyes like three years as I contemplated such a horrible possibility. I thought about smuggling some into camp but then I knew that they would search all of us at the gate for contraband and even though the devil in me was whispering in my ear that I could hide it in my bag where no one would see it, it was not a risk I was willing to take. On the D-day, all I took was my white shirts and shorts, two pair mufti shirts and trousers, my documents, my atm cards and two pair of glasses in one small bag. I 'strolled' to the camp like a boss (na Lagos na ), the place where I would be remanded for the next three weeks and then I met this mammoth crowd there! Everybody just dey bone face based on say the sun dey fry all our collective skulls. At the gate a stern looking Man o' War personnel searched my bag disinterestedly. After turning over my clothes in the bag, he asked if I had smuggled anything into the camp like weed or drugs. Even if I was carrying something, will I say yes?
I looked at him with my innocent face and said "No o, I don't do such."
"Good. Anyone caught with contraband will be paraded in front of the entire camp and summarily decamped. You may go in."
I went in with tears in my eyes because if I had known that the officer was barely going to rifle through my stuff I would have carried in my sweet, wonderful MJ with me. We were surely going to miss each other. I got to the parade ground to see another large crowd, everybody lining up. In short, in camp you have to queue for everything - even sanitary pad . It was the longest queue I had ever seen in my life. With my heart in my throat I went to stay behind the last person, afraid that my suffering was about to begin. Two hours later I found myself on another queue comprising of guys only, a queue that was leading nowhere. We must have stood there for hours, the sun trying to show us that it can shine brighter than all of us combined. The officer that instructed us to line up was nowhere to be found as well. Suffering!
Another thing that really struck me was the number of pregnant women that were present in camp. I had never seen such a large population of pregnant women gathered together in one place. Anybody that went to Lagos Camp Batch B stream 2 would attest to that. Were we here for Orientation camp or did this place also serve as a maternity ward I didn't know about? Their own queue was two times longer that the queue for guys and was also moving much faster. I stared at all of them in annoyance as if they were owing me 9 months salary. Where were all the fine sexy girls that we were promised? Is this how my three weeks in camp is going to be? We will not take it!!! (In Orubebe's voice)
When I couldn't take the sun frying my skull anymore, I quickly went to secure a hostel room space. I was shown to a room where I chose the top bunk and summarily jumped on it and went to sleep.
I will finish my registration later. I cannot comman comman kee myself.
NP - Be - Tekno
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|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by waywardpikin(m): 11:15am On Apr 22|
I woke up in the evening energetic and reinvigorated so I headed out with my document to complete my registration. In the process I found out that I was drafted to Platoon 7. I went to the canopy that had the inscription 7 written boldly in it, where another queue was waiting for me. By this time it was dark, but I was determined to finish my registration that day and the crowd had significantly reduced. As I stood in the line thinking about my life like I always do, my phone beeped. I whipped it out to see a message from this girl I'd met in a whatsapp group for Lagos camp stream 2 corpers. She had come a day before registration since she wasn't based in lagos and had already completed her registration. How we met? I joined the group, and being the keyboard warrior that I am, I found myself fighting with every member of the group as they attacked me left, right and centre; and I returned the favour bumper to bumper. She had to message me privately to be the bigger man and let peace reign, to which I obliged (not!). Eventually, the argument between me and the rest of the group was settled as we discovered that it was just a problem of miscommunication. Anyway that is how me and this lady became friends, as we began to chat frequently leading up to camp. We had exchanged pictures a lot, and she seemed to take a liking to me. She had this oval face, this demure personality, and a very beautiful ebony skin with a cute pointed nose. Also, she was a Hajia (what I always called her), a muslim; in all the pictures she sent she was always putting on a hijab. However, I was yet to meet her in person.
'Where are you?' Her message read.
'Still doing my registration. I'm at Platoon 7 canopy.'
'Okay I'm coming.' She replied immediately.
In my mind I asked, 'Coming to do what?' I have to say at this point, that while I am generally a nice person, I am the ultimate definition of an asshole. I become an asshole when I'm cranky, tired, stressed, sweaty, hungry, pissed off, etc. And this period I was all of the above so I wasn't in the mood to make small talk with anyone. The line moved forward so I took a step forward, I felt the slight touch of soft boobs against my sweaty back. Few minutes later my phone beeped and it was Hajia: 'I'm at Platoon 7, I can't see you. Come outside.' I was almost at the front of the line so I couldn't go back to see her and I told her so. She said she would wait and I said okay. I took another step further and felt the slight brush of fresh boobs against my back. I turned to see who the perpetrator was and saw this unassuming nice looking girl. She was dressed like an SU, the gown she was wearing buttoned from bottom all the way up to her neck. When it reach my turn and I had presented my documents I needed a stapler which the SU babe promptly handed to me. She also showed me the correct way to arrange my documents before submission and was generally very helpful. I asked her what her name was and she looked at me with such an innocent look on her face, "My name is Nifemi, from OAU." I introduced myself too and was happy that I had made another friend. In the midst of so many people and all the stress I'd been through, I felt a little alone and less excited. By the time I was done with my registration Hajia had left, she said she couldn't wait any longer, that we would see tomorrow. In the meantime, we were told to come and collect our NYSC kits tomorrow, as the ones in their possession were finished. I went back to the hostel famished, and wondering if I would really enjoy my stay in camp. With all the stress I'd gone through on the first day, and the huge number of pregnant women present in camp, as well as the abnormally high number of married women that were serving in this particular set, I was beginning to have my doubts...
The only silver lining was that in a population of over 2000 PCMs, 1500 were female and 500 were male. Picture the possibilities of such a scenario for a second .
NP - Mad Over You - Runtown
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|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by waywardpikin(m): 11:17am On Apr 22|
Before I continue I need to know if anyone else is interested in this story so I know I'm not typing to myself.
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|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by Misterdhee1(m): 11:40am On Apr 22|
waywardpikin:Go on bro.. You've got an excellent writing skill..
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by AwesomeDuru(m): 11:57am On Apr 22|
Bro please continue!! Lol. I really like your writing skills!
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by Darey00(m): 12:38pm On Apr 22|
Will be through with my service in d next couple of weeks.. Although mine was in the far north I still enjoyed it..
nice one bro. Oya continue
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|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by teepha(f): 12:42pm On Apr 22|
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by Robynwelo1(f): 2:11pm On Apr 22|
Ride on bro!
NP I'm with you - Avril Lavigne
1 Like 1 Share
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by bussieboi(m): 2:13pm On Apr 22|
Av entered, where conductor wey dey collect Owo motor
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by AwesomeDuru(m): 2:28pm On Apr 22|
Waywardpikin where you dey o?
By the way, I'm a PCM. Uniben.
And I chose Lagos too
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by mrjaybaba(m): 2:38pm On Apr 22|
Babes for ur camp will be point n chop .
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by Edox4(m): 4:22pm On Apr 22|
PCM batch A
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by waywardpikin(m): 8:39pm On Apr 22|
I awoke to the humdrum of activities all around me. People were chatting excitedly as I went about preparing for the day like a zombie. Being the lazy guy that I am, the day before had left me feeling all shades of exhausted. In Lagos camp, there was usually running water and multiple bathrooms so in terms of convenience it wasn't bad at all. The only snag about the accomodation was that there was no working fan in my half of the room so when I woke up I was drenched in sweat. After I showered, I dressed in mufti once again and went out to platoon 7 canopy to collect my NYSC kit. Me and 4 other guys escorted the woman in charge of our platoon to a place when the kits were stored. She rummaged through them and pointed at the ones she wanted us to carry which we did. Because of that, she attended to us first by giving us our kits, which was great because the line wey we for queue no be here. The white shirts we were handed were of low quality, the khaki uniform felt like carton, and instead of me wearing it it was wearing me, so big like a parachute. The white shorts were so small and tiny like bum shorts, the jungle boots were too big, my feet were lost in them. The NYSC cap was so small, I could only wear it at an angle of elevation on one side of my big head, and the white shoes were undersized, my feet couldn't fit in. I tried to look for someone who had something closer to my size but I couldn't. I made my way to the mami market, swearing for the Nigerian government as I did so. Gave it to a tailor there for about N1000 or N1,500. Then I gave my jungle boots and white shoes to a shoemaker for construction purposes. The jungle boot had to be reduced in size while the white shoes had to be expanded. Trust me, even if you needed to slimfit your destiny, the shoemaker would do it - for the right price. At this point I really must talk about the mami market. I don't know what I was expecting, and reading Mazi Omenuko's NYSC stories I must have been expecting something outside the realm of possibilities, but the mami market was nothing more than a congregation of canopies joined together in commercial unison.
There, anything you needed you were sure to get. There were the places where they sold strictly indomie, or strictly golden penny noodles. There were the igbo, yoruba, and akwa ibom connection joints. There were the places they sold bread, tea, fried yams, etc. There were the places you could get real good coffee, or ice cream, or smoothies; rich, creamy, thick smoothies that could make your mouth salivate. There were places where they sold stationeries of any kind, canopies where the photographers hung out, canopies for charging phones at the cost of N50, canopies where the laundry guys congregated, canopies for the hair dressers and barbers, canopies that served as drinking joints. In fact, you had a wide variety of joints to choose from. My favorite spot was the place where they played video games. You could play PES, FIFA, Mortal Kombat, or this weird dancing game that the ladies really loved and that I especially enjoyed watching. The way the game works is that you'd choose a hip hop artiste, say Nikki Minaj for example, then her music starts to play, and then you have to mimic the dance moves of the person on the flat screen hanging high up on the wall while holding a game console in your hand. Needless to say, those guys made bas.tard money especially in the first week when the game was really shacking them girls. The summary of my point being, the mami market was a trap. It was specifically designed to make you want to spend money, and the place really came alive in the night time such that there was nowhere else you'd rather be. That's pure marketing 101.
There was an announcement over the speakers that those who had completed their registration should report to the parade ground for something, an instruction I ignored as I was still dressed in my mufti. I went back to the hostel and climbed up on my bed, bored out of my mind. I introduced myself to the guy lyiny right next to me, he said his name was Arinze from Jos. Unlike me with my mago-mago, he'd been posted to Lagos fair and square, and the excitement on his face was palpable. Usually, it's very easy to tell guys that aren't from Lagos. The naivete and inexperience on their faces is somewhat obvious like they had just entered Yankee, or maybe I don't have the exact words to explain exactly what I mean. The guy on the lower bunk I was sleeping was called Maintenance for some reason I'll explain later if I remember. The guy lying on the top bunk on my other side was called Oyo man. I heard them gisting with so much seriousness about the food schedules and meal tickets; what time they'd be serving meals and all that.
'These people dey para o,' I thought. I introduced myself to them and familiarized myself with the way feeding works in camp. Upon registration we are all handed a meal ticket. For everytime you go to the dining hall to be served food, your meal ticket will be signed, indicating the day and time you enjoyed camp food, whether morning, afternoon or night. I remember I bought enough flagyl before coming to camp for fear of using the toilet facilities. Turns out, the toilets in camp weren't bad either. They made use of water closet, and cleaners came everyday to keep it clean and sparkly. That wasn't enough to make me change my mind though. No matter what happened, I would never have anything to do with beans, when I'm not mad. I could make out one or two faces in my room, and everyone seemed to be talking excitedly except for me. I curled up in bed, whipped out my phone and started watching Captain America: Winter Soldier for the umpteenth time before I dozed off again.
My stay in camp had officially just begun.
NP - Do like that - Korede Bello
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|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by waywardpikin(m): 8:41pm On Apr 22|
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by waywardpikin(m): 8:42pm On Apr 22|
Thanks. I'm so terrified of anything north. Where were you posted?
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by waywardpikin(m): 8:45pm On Apr 22|
AwesomeDuru:Nice bro, I hope you get the place your heart desires most.
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by waywardpikin(m): 8:47pm On Apr 22|
mrjaybaba:Bros no be fish na
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by Darey00(m): 9:52pm On Apr 22|
Haha me too was scared then.. Mehn forget the North make brain o.. better roads and all. I also learnt the Hausa language.
I served in Katsina state
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by waywardpikin(m): 9:36am On Apr 23|
Do you intend to base there now?
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by Darey00(m): 12:22pm On Apr 23|
waywardpikin:If I see a good job why not??
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by Angelswt(f): 4:40pm On Apr 23|
"even if you needed to Slim fit Your destiny " lol that got me laughing... enjoying your write up!
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by Robynwelo1(f): 7:01pm On Apr 23|
As a Lagos PCM, I am really grateful for your clear depiction of the camp. I am hooked already!
NP Tiwa Savage - Key to the city
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by waywardpikin(m): 11:56am On Apr 24|
Darey00:Abi? Owo ni koko
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by waywardpikin(m): 11:57am On Apr 24|
Oshey my dear. More to come shortly..
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by waywardpikin(m): 11:58am On Apr 24|
Oshey my dear.. I hope you get your state of choice. Lagos camp is worth the hype trust me!
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by waywardpikin(m): 12:00pm On Apr 24|
I woke up in the evening to the sound of loud music blaring from the general direction of the mami market. Definitely that's where I was headed tonight. I was still in mufti, and was determined to continue wearing my mufti for as long as it took. I wore a white t-shirt on black jeans and slippers as I stepped out into the night. I had a couple of missed calls from Hajia, and a couple from another girl in the whatsapp group where I was fighting everyone like a deranged creature. I called Hajia first.
'Hello Hajia. Where are you?'
'Hmm... Are you just seeing my missed calls? Since that I've been calling you.'
'Sorry jare, I've been sleeping since.'
'Sleepy sleepy. Where are you?' She asked me.
'I'm on my way to mami market. Shey you will join me?'
'That place where they place video games. They also sell smoothies too.'
'Okay I'm coming.' She said as she hung up.
I enjoyed the cool evening breeze as I took in the sights and sounds around me. The girls all looked so beautiful and smart in their white on white, those little shorts hugging their asses desperately like it was a do or die affair. The guys either looked smart (for those who kept fit) or stoopid, cos some of those shorts could pass for boxers, making them look awkward with their hairy, yammy legs. Most people were excited to get into the action as they were all already dressed up in their NYSC kit. I stood out like a sore thumb in my half-mufti outfit as I walked towards the video game arena, a rebel without a cause. I got there and ordered for a strawberry smoothie at a cost of N500, then settled back and watched the girls dance to the hiphop video game dance simulator. The soft bounce of their boobs gave me so much joy, coupled with the loud blare of music from numerous speakers from various joints - the atmosphere was electric! Suddenly I heard someone should my name, 'Wayward Pikin!' I turned and I recognised her immediately - Dumebi. She was one of the girls that had gotten into a war of words with me from the whatsapp group, she had given me some missed calls as well which I had forgotten to return.
'Dumebi, how far?'
She was with four other people, all from the group. She was an excessively energetic little girl, more hyper than anyone from Hypertek records. Me on the other hand, though a keyboard warrior, am quiet like a mouse in real life and innocent looking. She stood in front of me, a big smile on her face, looking at me from head to toe.
'So, this is you? And if someone sees you now the person will not know that you are the same person that is capable of all those atrocities you were committing in the group. Look at how quiet you are looking.'
The others with her surrounded me as I continued to smile sheepishly like a cornered rat. One of the girls looked at me curiously.
'Dumebi, who is this?'
'Na Wayward Pikin o.'
The other girl looked at me in shock and burst out laughing. I shook hands with the three girls and two guys in front of me.
'Okay guys, can we just forget about everything that happened in that whatsapp group? I was just trying to catch some harmless fun. How are you guys enjoying camp so far?'
'It's fuuun!' Two of the girls chorused. I smiled, even though I didn't share the same enthusiasm - yet.
'We wanna play this game!' Dumebi said excitedly, 'Wayward, will you join us?'
'No thanks. I'd rather watch.' And watch I did, feeding my eyes hungrily as they danced with so much happiness and excitement. One of the girls was married and highly curvaceous, and I envied her husband as all her features bounced as she danced, flawlessly mimicking the moves on the plasma TV. She was the best dancer of the lot. After they were done we elected to go to one of the joints to chill, being the first time all of us were meeting ourselves face to face. I mocked Dumebi happily along the way.
'Kai, so upon all your energy you were defeated by a married woman. See how you were dancing like someone that is suffering from epilepsy,' I said, laughing furiously. Indeed, her dancing was so awkward.
'Ehn, thank you. My boyfriend likes it like that.'
'Why won't he like it like that? Does a beggar have a choice?' We yabbed each other back and forth until we got to a joint where we promptly settled down and ordered from some drinks. I bought a drink for myself and looked up to the sky, all man for himself, and Dumebi yabbed me seriously.
'Chai, igbo man! I've always suspected that you were very stingy. How can you be with several people and you buy drinks for only yourself. Chai!' She yabbed me endlessly, and I sat there and just smiled as the rest of the gang laughed at me. Abi wetin make I do again? Not that I didn't have the money, but I was still new to environment and was testing the waters. Besides they came with two other guys na, let them shoulder the responsibility biko.
On second thought, maybe they were right. Maybe I was stingy.
The other guys ordered for some drinks too and everyone was engaged in conversation. Dumebi came to sit down beside me and emptied more than half of my drink into her glass. The girl was just determined to get under my skin. In real life, I was no match for her energy-wise. As we all talked, my phone rang - it was the sexy Hajia.
'Hello, where are you?'
'I'm at the video game place. I can't see you. Where are you?' She said.
'Just wait there, I'm on my way.' I excused myself and went to meet her, Dumebi's comment trailing me: 'I know say na woman you dey go find.' I rolled my eyes inwardly, the girl was slowly getting on my nerves. I met up with Hajia and I must confess that she was the most beautiful Hajia I had ever seen in my life. She was the coke to my fanta, her black ebony skin glistening in the darkness, her Hijab framing her face so perfectly. This was new uncharted territory for me. I told her I was with some guys from the whatsapp group, and her discomfort at the prospect of hanging out at a 'joint' was palpable, probably against her religion. I told her we wouldn't waste anytime there, that we would just say hi and leave, to which she obliged. We went back to the joint where the others were and introduced her to the gang. I held out a seat for her and ordered a non alcoholic drink for my new best friend. Dumebi looked at me with eyebrows raised and I was wary of what she was going to say next.
'Hmm... ladies man! Baba for the girls!!!' She teased, and I resisted the urge to strangle her. She talked too much (lol). Hajia and I talked for a while, and she was quite chatty. She gisted me about how lonely she had been in camp since the day she came, cos she was one of the first people to arrive, and that yesterday she was soooo bored that's why she came to see me at the platoon 7 canopy yesterday but I was too busy to see her. A guy at the next table sitting alone with a bottle on Andre in front of him lit a stick of cigarette and Hajia became visibly uncomfortable. She said she wanted to leave and I obliged her, deciding to escort her to her hostel, with Dumebi's voice trailing us as we left: 'Hmm... Lover boy. I go love ooo,' she said at the top of her voice as everyone burst out laughing.
Damn, that girl was so annoying!
I escorted her to the front of the hostel, bid her goodnight and made my way back to mami market to join the others.
'Is she your girlfriend?' One of the girls asked me.
'She's just a friend,' I answered.
'Hmmmmmmm!' They all chorused.
I don enter am today, I thought to myself.
'But how are you going to cope? She's a yoruba muslim and you're an igbo christain. Shey your momsy will not talk?' Dumebi asked in her usual hyperactive way.
'Like I said, she's just a friend,' I said through gritted teeth.
After a while I excused myself and went to join the guy sitting alone at a table with a bottle of Andre, but this time he was joined with some other guy who was wearing a branded indomie noodles shirt. In my mind, make I go join mature people and leave these small children alone abeg. I sat at his table and introduced myself to the two dudes. The corper introduced himself as Dotun, an upcoming artiste, while the other guy was working at the indomie stand. I poured some of the Andre into my glass cup (my mission there) as we talked about random stuff. Dotun was about to light another stick when he hissed and put it back inside the pack.
'I swear I no like ciga at all. Na manage I just dey manage am. Wetin I really like na confam SK mehn.. no be this trash,' he thundered.
'You sef dey bass? That one no be problem na. If I dey go outside I fit help you buy SK if I dey come, that one no be problem. Me sef no like ciga,' the indomie guy offered.
As he said those words my ears perked up.
'Erm bros, did you just say you can help us buy weed??'
NP - Wonder - Blackmagic
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|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by Angelswt(f): 12:24pm On Apr 24|
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by AwesomeDuru(m): 5:14pm On Apr 24|
Come continue bros.
Good thing Mammy Markets have game stands. Because I can't imagine myself going full 3 weeks without PlayStation
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by glowshine(f): 6:44pm On Apr 24|
You have good writing skills. I can almost picture everything clearly... Please continue
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by Kylekent59: 9:49pm On Apr 24|
Lagos camp is d best. Representing batch B stream 1 2016. Shows every night,cool breeze,nice food,good water,friendly soldiers,mami popping every night,beautiful ladies. With lots of international students.
Representing cassava group.
|Re: Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper - The Search For The One by waywardpikin(m): 11:54pm On Apr 24|
Yeah man.. you are very right, friendly soldiers, endless shows, etc. Beht which one is cassava group again bikonu?
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