Pls is the list for SSC or DSSC?

Pls is the list for SSC or DSSC applicant?

I think it should be for regular recruit intake RRI

Nice one nairaland for the info, wishing all our comrade that applied for the exam a resounding success.

NIGERIA ARMY TRADE AND NON TRADE MEN past question and answer is available is available

Kindly join this thread, is more informative than this one
https://www.nairaland.com/1790645/nigerian-army-released-name-shortlisted#24331137

JAGARS: I like dis ur monicker .....''fuckluv''....... Especially now when den just break my heart

*sobs*

Eeyah
Sorry, love will soon come your way.

Good day guys. Happy sunday to u all. Someone should please help me check my name on the Lagos centre please. OKIYEFA EKIYOR is the name. Thanks in advance.

ekiyor3: Good day guys. Happy sunday to u all. Someone should please help me check my name on the Lagos centre please. OKIYEFA EKIYOR is the name. Thanks in advance.

Confirmed ! 71RRI/BY/653/0299687, Bayelsa
Your name is on the List.

ekiyor3: Good day guys. Happy sunday to u all. Someone should please help me check my name on the Lagos centre please. OKIYEFA EKIYOR is the name. Thanks in advance.

Click on the link Below:
go to page 7, that's where u'll find your name.
http://www.narecruitment.org/CDSSIkejaCantLagos.aspx
Good luck in your Exams

B3sty:
Confirmed ! 71RRI/BY/653/0299687, Bayelsa
Your name is on the List.

. Thank u brother. God bless u.

ekiyor3: . Thank u brother. God bless u.

u're welcome!

proud

Nigerian Army: Reality As Seen From A Soldier's
Perspective; First, let me state here clearly that I was motivated
to write this article after reading "Why I served and Why I left the Nigerian Army" written by Chizoba C. Chukwurah on 31st July 2008. Reading the article
was like reading the story of my life as a youth.
Fired by thoughts of glory, I joined the army to
serve Nigeria and make a career in soldiering. I was
disappointed and frustrated like thousands of
others before me as I am sure thousands of intelligent young Nigerians are today with the
institution called Nigerian army. My frustration was
responsible for my decision to leave the army and
make a clean beginning as a 'bloody civilian'. I have
never one day regretted this momentous decision.
Making public my thoughts on the Nigerian army took some courage because it was an experience I
had always wanted to forget about and get on with
my life. Reading the thoughts of Retired Generals on the
Army can be very misleading as the thoughts and
opinions they expressed are self-serving and very
far from the reality on the ground. I also laugh
anytime I hear Generals crow about the 'combat-
readiness' of the Nigerian army or the armed forces in general. Maybe the Generals are parroting what
they have been told by their subordinates but truth
be told, Generals also passed through the system
and are aware that they are being fed lies but
because of the need for self-preservation and
'espirit de corps', they prefer not to rock the boat because any investigation of the rot in the armed
forces will tarnish the careers and names of all the
officers (both retired and serving) in the armed
forces above the rank of Lieutenant. This article will
be in three parts. The first part deals with a brief
description of life before joining the army as a recruit, the journey to Depot Nigerian army in Zaria
and life as a typical recruit. The second part deals
with life as a soldier while the third part provide an
insight into the peacekeeping missions from the
perspective of soldiers who bore the brunt of these
missions and not from the perspective of senior officers who sat in their offices, lived in mansions
and generally enjoyed themselves and became
richer by short-changing soldiers at every turn. This
part is where I will explain the beginning of the
end of my military career and my final
disengagement. I will draw examples and comparisons from the
Final year research effort I submitted to the
Department of Economics, University of Maiduguri,
Borno State in 1997 as part of the partial fulfillment
of the conditions for the award of a B.Sc. degree in
Economics. Most of the issues dealt with and parameters used in that research effort have not
changed significantly or have worsened.

Life in Abeokuta I was born in Abeokuta to an average family,
meaning we are neither poor, middle class nor rich.
We could get by but could not afford the luxuries
enjoyed by our more fortunate neighbours.
Education was compulsory and this was also
helped by the fact that I grew up during the free education era in the South West. Prior to my
enlistment in the army, my knowledge about
soldiers and the army generally was scanty at best.
I remembered admiring their neatly starched and
ironed uniforms, shining boots and regal carriage
during the parades I attended at the stadium as a student. I also loved the military commands that
rang out which I never could comprehend until I
joined the army and the response of the soldiers as
one, lifting their feet in unison and bringing same
down together without looking down. I had completed my secondary education and my
parents had high hopes that I would proceed to
the university to study like our neighbours'
children. The 1988 November/December WAEC
results came out early in 1989 and I did not
disappoint them. My dad was ecstatic, believing that his dream of having a lawyer son was within reach.
Since I never wanted to be a Lawyer, I tried
unsuccessfully to get this message across to him
through my Mum that I wanted to study something
else not related in any way to the law. It was while
this was going on at home that I learnt through one of my friends that the army recruitment
exercise will be taking place in June 1989 at the
Lafenwa barracks in Abeokuta. There were no fees
to be paid by prospective recruits as the army was
desperately looking for young boys and girls
(later) to swell its ranks and replace the old soldiers known as 63NAs. I decided to go to Lafenwa barracks with some of
my friends and was convinced into obtaining the
form by the Recruiting Officer, a Major who told me I
could be anything I wanted to be in the Nigeria
Army. I was happy, filled and submitted the form
and started getting myself ready for the selection process by running in the evenings and
conditioning my body physically. The selection
process was fair as no cheating was allowed. Those
who attempted to cheat by taking short-cuts
during the 3 km running were arrested and given
twenty four lashes of horse whip on their bare backs on the orders of the Major. One of the
beneficiaries of this punishment urinated on himself
and we were sufficiently cowed. After this
demonstration of zero tolerance for corruption and
cheating by the Major, the message was loud and
clear that all acts of cheating will be dealt with ruthlessly. This inspired confidence in me and
increased my desire to be part of the army. Let me
say here that officers like that Major are very rare in
the army and that he was an exception to the rule
but I will only learn this later. The Major was my first
contact with the army and I wrongly assumed that his attitude represented what the army stood for. The selection process also opened my eyes to the
desperation of Nigerians to succeed at all costs. The
batch recruited before us (27th Intake) was a free
for all, corruption was rampant as the saintly Major
was not there and the recruitment was conducted
by another officer, whose principles or lack of it tainted the whole process. Money allegedly
changed hands and other inducements in kind
were accepted. Some boys who were not recruited
during 27th intake were ready with their good luck
charms prepared by expert 'babalawos' in their
villages, cash envelopes, bags of garri and rice, sacks of snails and gallons of palm-oil to hoodwink
or bribe their way into the 28th intake but were
disappointed as the Major collected all the gifts and
then called them out publicly to come and confess
their evil deeds. The charms they brought did not
work because the Major did not seem to be influenced by external forces on any issue. The items including cash were all returned in our
presence and the boys were whipped as usual for
offering bribes to influence the process. Some of
these boys later on managed to be recruited on
merit. The recruitment process not only tested our
physical fitness but also, our intellectual capacities. We were given a tough written test personally
marked by the Recruiting Officer to weed out the
dummies among us. At the end of the selection
process that took two weeks, hundreds were
weeded out, sixty-four were selected and ten
alternates, called reserves, put on standby in case any of the first choice candidates could not make it.
A date was set for our departure for the Depot
Nigerian army in Zaria but the Recruiting Officer
could not make the journey with us because of
other commitments outside the country but he
informed us that any attempts to extort money from us should be reported to him. He bade us
farewell and journey mercy. It was not easy convincing my parents to let me join
the army since the impression they had then was
that the army was for dummies and the never-do-
wells in the community. My Uncle persuaded them
to let me go as it would widen my horizons. I was
however told that if I found any reason at all not to like the army, I should return home without any
fears.

The Journey to Zaria; The journey to Zaria was by railways train, paid for
by the Federal government. The journey took two
nights and we arrived in Zaria one sunny afternoon
in July 1989. It was right at the railway station that
my experiences with the lack of organization in the
army commenced. There were no vehicles to meet us at the station and we had to make the journey to
the Depot, a distance of around 4 kilometers on
foot with our heavy bags on our heads. On arrival
at the Depot, we were lined up and the screening
commenced without giving us the chance to rest
after sitting cramped up in the train for two nights. We were also not offered any food. We ran another
three kilometers and went through medical
screening. We were registered and distributed to
Battalions but first, we had to start the process of
our disengagement from being 'bloody civilians' to
army recruits. My transformation from a 'bloody civilian' to an
army recruit was also my first introduction to my
station in life at that time as a recruit. My head was
shaved clean by a barber who probably had no
word like 'gentle' or 'dignity' in his dictionary. Any
whimper or grunt was met with a knock on the head. My civilian clothes were confiscated and some
of my 'luxury' items (Milo, powdered milk, fried
meat, pepper sauce) were stolen right before my
eyes. My bag was collected and put in the store
under lock and key to prevent me from running
away during the training. I was assigned to 9 Platoon, Charlie Company, 2
Training Battalion and reported there after
stumbling around and asking others who arrived
days before us. The Training consisted of running (5, 15 and 25
kilometers), physical exercises, obstacle crossings,
tactics, Field-craft, weaponry and parade.
Punishments for coming late during the distance
running were as varied as there are tribes in
Nigeria. These included whipping by all Instructors, rolling in the mud holes scattered around the
Depot, extra duties, assuming 'thinking position',
frog-jumping and 'sitting on your head', a special
army punishment designed to inflict maximum
injury to the brain. There was no time during the training that our
Instructors informed us that we were subjected to
or should respect civil authority. We were taught
not to respect or act like 'bloody civilians', a term
that covers everyone not in army uniform. We were
taught to 'deal' (brutalize) with them because it was the only way the civilians will give us respect. Being
young and impressionable, we all took this to heart
and followed it literally in all our dealings with
civilians and even police officers, who are not
regarded as equals by soldiers. Yoruba boys with few exceptions never did well in
the long distance running while most of the Fulani
and the Middle Belt boys were very exceptional in
that they could run 25 kilometers without any
effort. Classroom activities are where the Yoruba
and most Igbo boys excelled. I was among the few exceptions and my athletic abilities saved me from
the early morning beatings after the battalion races. Laziness and lousiness cuts across all tribes in
Nigeria and this was amply demonstrated during
the training. There were those who spent a greater
part of the training period reporting sick, dodging
physical exercises or volunteering to be 'Line
guards' while others are training hard. This category of recruits is known as the 'Malingerers'.
One of the older boys (aka Baba @ 40) who came
with us from Ogun state was a popular member of
this obnoxious group. Parade was strenuous but I must confess I really
enjoyed it after getting to grips with the
mispronounced words that no civilian could ever
hope to understand. Nigeria Army was a creation of
the British and thus inherited a tradition of giving
orders in English. Unfortunately, the Nigerian SNCOs who took over from their British counterparts
neither were native English speakers nor educated
enough to have mastered the command words in
their original forms. Equivalent words were found
for the real command words. What matter was the
sound of the command which you react to and not the real words. For example, the command 'Odd
numbers, one pace forward, even numbers, one
pace aback, in open ranks march' is given as 'Old
numbers, wain pace fawat, evil numbers, wain pace
abat, in opin ranks mat!' Most Villagers must have
experienced this during the NYSC year but I am sure you never understood what it was all about,
not being soldiers. My first contact with corruption at the Depot was
through my Platoon Sergeant who came in one
night after we had been paid our training
allowances for the first month to demand for his
'share'. He told us that it was his 'right' because he
was responsible for our care and we must take care of him. The training allowance was one hundred
and sixty- nine Naira in 1989 and the share of the
Platoon Sergeant was twenty Naira every month.
This means that the Platoon Sergeant made an
average of seven hundred Naira every month as
extra income from the recruits. You cannot report him without getting into problem and the fear of
the beatings ensured we never found the courage
to report.

Guard Duties, Discipline and Random Punishments: At the beginning of the third month of the training,
we commenced guard duties. The essence was to
reinforce our stations in life, provide some
amusement to the officers whose houses we were
sent and to start getting us used to what we will be
doing most of the time at our various units on completion of our training. Guard duty could be fun
if you get a 'good' duty post like the classrooms,
stores and the MRS because you can sleep to your
hearts' content but pure hell if posted to an Officer's
house. Guard duty at the house of an officer could
include laundering of clothes, running errands around the compound, pounding yam if the officer
is an Ondo or Ekiti indigene, baby-sitting, and
winnowing rice, vacuuming carpets or painting of
the house. You belong to the officer for the
duration of your duty in his house and he is free to
use you for any type of job, no matter how demeaning. There are some few exceptions to this general rule.
Some officers are really nice and will offer you food
and ensure you have water to drink. These nice
officers also put their wives under control and
never allow them to insult recruits or ask them to
do demeaning jobs for them. Recruits provide entertainment for officers and their families, civilian
colleagues and girlfriends to make them feel good.
Recruits are routinely humiliated and physically
abused by officers who beat them, drench them
with water even during the biting harmattan of
Zaria, asked to 'swat' mosquitoes, sit on their heads or asked to dance to entertain their girlfriends.
Embarrassing questions are asked and it is a choice
between the devil and the deep blue sea. If you
answer the questions correctly, you are beaten for
showing 'sabi-sabi' and if you answer wrongly you
are still beaten for being stupid. My usual strategy was to keep my mouth shut and refuse to express
any opinion either way when asked questions. I
managed to spread the word around that my father
was a wicked herbalist in Abeokuta among the
recruits. Soon enough, this false rumour got to our
officers and many of them were scared to beat me for fear of what my Herbalist 'Dad' would do to
them. Discipline in the army is a relative word. It means
being able to obey all orders without complaining
and smiling even when you are called a monkey or
referred to as 'Shiyawa', an Hausa word that means
'grass' or literally, someone without value.
Unfortunately and this is something for our legal minds to ponder, most soldiers never complain
because if you go on trial, your accuser will also be
your prosecutor and at the same time be the judge.
You could be charged with 'Conduct to prejudice of
military discipline' which covers every offence from
frowning when asked to dance, refusing to work hard enough in the Commanding Officer's farm to
slapping an officers' wife. The idea of never getting
justice is hammered into your head and you just
accept it like that. Hard drug usage though not encouraged by the
army is also not discouraged. At least half of the
boys in our platoon smoked marijuana regularly
and so do others in the other platoons. The boys
obtained their marijuana supplies from the wives of
the SNCOs while some brought their supplies from home. The thick smell hangs around in the nights
but no one ever raided the hostels to arrest
anybody. Right from the first day at the Depot, the army
recruit starts learning how to dodge the random
punishments that are dished out as a matter of
course and accepted as a tradition. You learn to
merge with your surroundings when you sight
most of the notorious and sadistic officers. You refrain from using the main roads and learn the
geography of the numerous footpaths because
failure to do so will expose you to random
punishments from officers. The wives of most
SNCOs are involved in the sale of petty items, food
and provide other services. Patronage by recruits depends on the perception of the kindness of their
husbands, thereby ensuring that most SNCOs never
bullied recruits as it will affect their wives except
where it has to be done to impress officers that
'discipline' is being maintained. Apologies are
offered later if this happens.

Feeding and Accommodation Accommodation; was not too bad. Recruits sleep in
large rooms that could conveniently take ten
double-decker beds. The beds are exactly spaced
from each other and straight in line. God bless you
if during inspection, your bed is out of line with
others. Mattresses, pillows and sheets were provided and these are supposed to be kept clean.
Bathrooms with showers and toilets were provided
for each platoon. It is the responsibility of each
platoon to keep these facilities clean and recruits
take turns sweeping and washing the showers and
toilets. Food was bad most of the time since most of the
ingredients were stolen by the cooks. The Chief
Cook and the other workers at the Battalion
kitchen looked very well-fed and prosperous,
making it easy for us to guess where most of the
meat, rice, milk and tea went. Breakfast consisted of finger-sized bread and coloured water called 'tea'.
Lunch was half-cooked Tuwo and okra soup with
miserable pieces of meat that you have to really
search for in the pot. Dinner might be eba with
same okra soup or what passed as egusi soup and
the same miserable meat or bones. We used to argue about the correct name for this soup all the
time. Failure to buy additional food to supplement
the meager meals means you risk dying of
starvation. We never knew the government provided for
generous meals until reports reached our Battalion
Commander, Lt. Col T.B. Duniya that we were being
poorly fed. He made an unscheduled visit to the
hostels during lunch one afternoon and hell was let
loose. The Chief Cook and his staff were almost roasted alive by the Battalion Commander who
informed the kitchen staff that he would be taking
his meals with his recruits from then on.
Miraculously, the food improved overnight. Out
goes the okra, in comes egusi and vegetables
cooked with huge pieces of meat fit for royalty. The tuwo and eba improved both in quality and
quantity. Suddenly, the tea started containing more
milk than water and it became impossible to see the
bottom of the cup or mess tin with the tea inside it.
Margarine appeared as if by magic and we were
even served rice and beans with nice fish stew. The bread also became bigger because Lt. Col. Duniya
exchanged harsh words with the bread supplier
and threatened him. It was paradise for almost a
month until Lt. Col. Duniya had to travel out of town
for another engagement. Two days after this, the
kitchen staff reverted to their old ways because being fed properly affected the catering businesses
of their wives who were not able to sell extra food
to us as we had enough during the 'divine'
intervention of the Battalion Commander. Most of
the food they sold to us actually came from the
battalion kitchens. For example, if a cow is slaughtered, by the time the Chief Cook, Deputy
Chief Cook, other Cooks and kitchen helpers stole
from it to give their wives and numerous girlfriends,
what will remain were the bones and scraps of
meat. It was that bad for us as recruits.

Slavery and Slave Labour I never knew recruits could be captured for forced
labour on farms belonging to officers until later.
While I was in the bathroom one Saturday morning,
some NCOs came into the hostel and rounded up
my mates and ordered them into a huge truck.
Other recruits were similarly rounded up from other platoons and put in the same truck. They were
driven to the farm of then Colonel Musa Bamaiyi,
Commandant of the Depot Nigerian army in Zaria to
harvest maize in one of the huge farms he had then
around Zaria city. The following Saturday, shouts of
'dash down' rented the air to alert the recruits that the forced labour truck was around to 'capture'
free labor for Bamaiyi's farm again. I ran quickly to
the bathroom, climbed the partition and jumped
inside the ceiling where two of my colleagues later
on joined me, breathing heavily but relieved to
have escaped for that day. Some recruits who ran outside the hostel were captured and herded into
the truck to go and work for the whole day without
food, water or medical care in case they were
injured. Another way of escaping the slave labour was to
wake up early and go and sit around the MRS until
the slave labour truck departed. The running and
dodging from that truck in those days gave me
some ideas about what the African tribes went
through during the slave raiding days. It was also an unwritten code among the recruits that whoever
saw the notorious truck first will alert the others by
shouting 'Dash down, dash down'. The cry will then
be taken up by all and you could see the scurrying
and panic as everyone tries to escape being
captured. It was interesting trying to outwit Bamayi's truck every Saturday. Once the truck
departed, you could sleep with both eyes closed,
launder your uniforms and generally relax and feel
like a human being. Sundays are relatively free
except if you run into one of the sadistic officers
and you were made to serve 'job'.

More Corruption; Preparations for our departure from the Depot
commenced after exercise 'Kungama', a five day
rigorous and strenuous simulation of battle
conditions. Lots of atrocities and abuses are
committed during this exercise against the recruits.
Punishments are meted out in the night just for the fun of it. Your food could be seized. You can be
abducted from your trench if you fall asleep. We
mostly survived the ordeal and from then on, you
are treated with a little more respect at least by the
soldiers and NCOs because you are almost one of
them now. Passing out parade (POP) is the next big activity after 'Kungama'. It is tough and tiring but
the pomp and well-choreographed movements
you see during such ceremonial parades could not
be achieved without adequate preparations and
rehearsals. I was part of the POP parade for 2
Battalion and our right guard was a tall Igbo boy named Chikwendu Golden, one of the tallest
persons I ever met in my life. He had the bearings of
a chief and walks like royalty. The army stores are well-stocked with nice
uniforms, military boots, belts and kit bags but they
are almost never issued to soldiers except if a
General issued the orders to do so but these items
are available for sale in the Depot black market. I
sourced for additional uniforms, military boots, berets, belts and kit bag because I never wanted to
return home in the training khaki issued to us. All
the other recruits also bought their military kits
while those without the means to do so had to
make do with the faded khakis and down at heel
military boots. Military Postings and Assignation to Units; This was done like lottery. There was no analysis of
skills, talents and qualifications. Some recruits who
indicated a preference for infantry found
themselves in Armour or Finance while some who
indicated preferences for Armour corps found
themselves in Education, Physical Education, or Demo Battalions. I was posted to Artillery even
though I never indicated a preference for the corps.
I accepted my posting in good faith and proceeded
to the Air Defence Artillery barracks in Zaria to be
assigned a unit. It was also at the Air Defence Barracks in Zaria that
our three months advance salary payment was
given to us totaling one thousand, one hundred
and forty naira. Out of this amount, the Captain who
came to pay us asked us to 'drop' fifty naira each
into a carton he placed near the door. One hundred of us were paid on that day. The Major who came to
assign us to units also collected money from some
who wanted to change their postings. I refused to
pay and was posted to Biu in Borno state with three
other young soldiers. No allowances were given to
us to transport ourselves to our new military units. I left the Air Defence barracks in Zaria to go and
spend the Christmas at home before proceeding to
my new unit and it was a joyous reunion with my
family who were very happy to see me back safely.
When I informed them about my posting, my Mum
was aghast and wanted me to stay at home while my Dad was not unduly worried, having lived in
Kaura-Namoda in his youth and familiar with the
North. To be continued The writer can be contacted at tapper972000@ yahoo.co.uk .

just finished my exam. De questions were just too cheap. See u @ d next stage

why is this thread so quiet guys?