NYSC Diary Day 15: Only Six Days Left In Hell

10:00 AM
I have made a new discovery. The cooks in the kitchen don’t put salt in our food. How could I have gone on for so long without noticing that I find out that they use a lot of Maggi seasoning, Onga, curry and thyme, but never salt. Even rice, they don’t add salt. They only wash it with salt but that’s about it.

I am surprised when people say this. Really surprised. I know of people who eat salt but refrain from seasoning cubes. Is there a reverse of this in Katsina?

For me, it makes sense now that the food (rice especially) tastes like it needs a little more salt. But really, no salt? Wawu. Does this mean that seasoning and spices can take the place of salt in a meal?



Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-15-only-six-days-left-in-hell/

NYSC Diary Day 16: How To Sorta Lose The Inter-Platoon Competition

6:00 AM
NYSC camp ends in 5 days.

Today is the inter-platoon drills competition. I wake up feeling a little excited. Days and days of marching, and finally we get to showcase what we have learned. All the right wheel, left wheel, slow march, breaking into quick march. I can’t wait.

But first, I have to go to the parade ground for morning drills and meditation. The competition is by 3pm and so I have to get breakfast, go to the OBS to cast my own segment of the program, and attend SAED lectures and practicals. There’s a whole lot before the competition. But I am not afraid. I know my platoon will win.

Edges have been laid, hair styled and shaped. Even our sub-guard commandant has shaved. If we don't give them, how will they take it?

At the end of the competition, we came in 8th.



Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-16-how-to-sorta-lose-the-inter-platoon-competition/

I guess platoon 3 came first

Please can you go back to your former format of posting? Posting lines from different paragraphs is quite confusing. Just start the story here and we can complete reading on the other site.

homesteady:
I guess platoon 3 came first

Please can you go back to your former format of posting? Posting lines from different paragraphs is quite confusing. Just start the story here and we can complete reading on the other site.

Hi, thank you for the feedback. I'll do that.

NYSC Diary Day 17: Platoon 2 Finally Won Something

5:36 AM
Let me tell you, the day after the inter-platoon drill is when everybody’s morale finally goes downhill. Why? Well, when you have done the main thing for which you have been practicing for days, what else remains? What else but to think about going home?

My first thought when I wake up is, “Are we going to do morning drill again today? Shebi we are done with the competition?”

This is a question that will be answered when I get to the parade ground. I take a bath, I get dressed, I head to the parade ground.

6:15AM
We are (not) marching. When I get to the parade ground, I realise that everyone came with the same energy as me: slow response to commands, and and I-Don’t-Care attitude. The soldiers realise that we cannot be controlled, and they are only exercising little power. Morning meditation done, they try to arrange us into groups, as though we are preparing to march.

“Cover in threes,” they say. Which threes?

Our platoon commandant arranges us as we march. He then begins to take numbers. Before he takes mine, I disappear to OBS for my duty. Apparently, this will be my saving grace.

8:45 AM
Breakfast is bread and tea. No boiled egg, and the bread is a large one cut in half, so maybe NYSC don broke. Someone from OBS brings akara from Mammy market and I have never been more delighted to eat food.

After my own segment of the program ends, I move around. The next thing to do is prepare for SAED lectures, but not me and them, abeg.

10:20 PM
Apparently, I am not the only one who has chosen the path of idleness. At the staff canteen where I lounge, there are idle corps members like me, lazy youths who are sitting in twos and threes and having a blissful post-breakfast conversation. Right next to me, there are four ladies eating bread and mayonnaise straight from the bottle. They comment on the thickness of the bread, the softness, the wonder of such a hefty loaf costing only N200. They stir Bournvita and Peak milk in a cup to make cocoa. They talk about people in their extended family who are rich, people who spend money anyhow.

I drift off.

Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-17-platoon-2-finally-won-something/

BigCabal:
NYSC Diary Day 14: A Crash Course On How To Make Doughnuts In Camp


6:30 AM
The countdown begins; NYSC camp will soon become a thing of the past. But before this happens, the soldiers are bent on showing us who is superior. It’s another day, another round of drills and marching and wondering what exactly all this will amount to. I go through the activities of bathing, brushing, and dressing up a little confused about what I am doing. Let’s be honest, do we understand what we as doing in this Nigeria?

8:30 AM
I am on air again. I host the current affairs and today in history segment. Today, I bring a twist to the show — interesting facts about the human body. Did you know, for example, that when you kiss someone you pass on 278 bacteria to them? Relax, you Farm Equipment. 95% of these bacterias are harmless. You’re probably thinking, “Only 5% are harmful, no wahala,” but think of mouth odour. What if it is caused by the remaining 5%? You better stop kissing entirely. Something that is not even sweet.

Breakfast is pap and beans, as per recycle of meals. I add milo and peak milk to the pap, and mehn, issa cruise.

1:15 PM
Chopist class. And I am here to enjoy it to the fullest. ENJOYMENT GALORE. We are learning how to make doughnuts. The instructor tells us about the punctured doughnuts, the non-puncture(d) ones (that is, doughnut wey no get hole for centre), jam doughnuts, glazed doughnuts, etc. Then we set about mixing our dough and leaving it to rise, kneading it, rolling it and then cutting it into pretty circles of dough. We place them on a tray and set it out in the sun so it can rise again.



In the meantime, we learn how to make a pancake and I am given a bit of it to taste, but someone smacks it out of my hand to the floor after I take one bite. Shebi you see that bad belle full everywhere.

Anyway, we fry the doughnuts and they come out brown and fluffy, with some of them having a slight crisp that makes it even more enjoyable. And it’s hot too. Imagine this kind of delicacy going with a bottle of cold Fanta.



I swear, after this SAED training, na to go open shop remain. We’re going to do gizdodo tomorrow. I don’t know what that is, but I’m guessing a combination of gizzard and dodo.

Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-14-a-crash-course-on-how-to-make-doughnuts-in-camp/

[b][/b]you better stop kissing part really got me bro .... I'm really in love with your stories

NYSC Diary Day 18: You Learn To Value Freedom In Camp

7:15 AM
Today is my last Friday in this camp. Waking up, it is no different from the other Fridays I have spent here. But it feels different, and when the soldiers come banging at the door, my friend F. says that very soon, all this gra-gra will end. I can’t wait for it to be over. I really can’t. At this point, the soldiers do the most. Being forced to come and parade in the evening, forced to social nights, forced out of the rooms. This morning, they have added a new strategy to chasing us out: they pour water in the room. Sometimes I think that this camp feels like prison with a tiny slice of liberty. Each time I think thoughts like this, I understand the importance of freedom, of owning your time and doing with it whatever you want, the importance of dressing up in what you like, eating what you desire, going where you desire.

NYSC camp is the place where you learn to value your freedom.


10:15 AM
Because it is the last Friday, we close the SAED skill acquisition program and do an exhibition of the things we have made in our various classes. The people at plumbing exhibit a shower with running water; those at makeup do a live face beat of a model; event planning/management exhibit a couple’s spot in wedding; agro-allied, a hen and some eggs in a crate. Those in tailoring exhibit a long gown, short gown, a kimono, and a dashiki. In leather works, they exhibit bags and slippers that I consider beautiful. My SAED class, Food Processing, exhibits cookies, cakes, salad cream, punctured and non-punctured doughnuts, glazed doughnuts, cup cakes. We also exhibit some tools of the trade: cookie cutters, measuring spoons, etc. I assist in decorating the cup cakes, putting sprinklers atop them, and fetching water to clean the utensils. After the exhibition, I leave for the OBS studio, exhausted.



2:30 PM
Lunch is rice and beans. It is delicious, I must admit, but the fish is small and it is fried so deep it has become tasteless. I am about to finish the meal when I hear that they have started paying allowee. That excitement!



I finish up, clean my plate, keep it and dash to the Accounts Section. A crowd is there already: Nigerians, we too like money! The allawee is N19,800, forget that talk of it being increased to N31,800. To get it, you need to present your NYSC ID card. It is unlike the transport allowance of N1,800 which you need to present your meal ticket for. The Bicycle Allowance is N1,400. In total, you get N23,000 in cash from NYSC at the end of your 3 weeks in camp. I have collected my transport allowance. And it’s not even enough for transport anyway. I spent nothing less than N10,000 from Lagos to Katsina, so N1,800 is like a drop out of an ocean. I am yet to get my N1,400. Each time I go, I am told a new story—”Come back, come back, you keep coming at the wrong time.”

As soon as I get my allawee, I pocket it and find my way out of there. It’s just like someone said, “Some people go leave this camp with three allawee, you go see.”

E no go be my own allawee, biko.

Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-18-you-learn-to-value-freedom-in-camp/

NYSC Diary Day 19: Life Is A Pot Of Beans

5:30 AM
Look, I am never believing any soldier again. In the heat of yesterday’s competition when the MC (a fellow corps member) saw that we were going to take long, he begged that we be allowed to sleep a bit longer. It’s a fair arrangement: the next day is Saturday, and in all fairness, we were finished with the NYSC timetable. We need rest too.

Now imagine my shock when the bugle sounded at 4AM this morning, and my anger when a solider poked my leg with a stick to wake me up.

I get up, dress in anger and a feeling of betrayal. Soldiers are not to be trusted. Not now, not ever.

6:00 AM
Funny thing: coming to the parade ground was a waste. I missed morning meditation, and by the time I arrived at the ground, there’s nothing left. I am not marching, I am not doing anything, in other words, I have wasted valuable time coming here.

Today is the carnival. All platoons will dress in jeans and a white round neck shirts bearing designs unique to their own platoons. I came prepared, I brought jeans. When you come to camp too, come along with jeans. If you intend to participate in Miss NYSC, you can also come with your own dress, and a traditional attire. Young men hoping to be Mr. Machos should also come with corporate outfits, and maybe three litres of vegetable oil.

10:03 AM
Lmao. This carnival is trash. Other carnivals in other states dress in traditional attires, fancy costumes, and they move about, happy and colourful. But here in Katsina, our carnival is like an awareness walk. Awareness walk is even better. We simply gather under the pavilion, and the MC calls us out to dance according to platoon. It’s a travesty of a carnival. Even street carnivals will see our carnival and laugh.

Because, what’s the point of a carnival like that in the afternoon? What’s the point of buying face masks if you will do nothing but sit under a pavilion and listen to Naira Marley on repeat?

2:15 PM
I forgot to tell you. Today is the cooking competition, and all platoons are saddled with the responsibility of cooking dinner by ourselves and for ourselves. There will be judges who will taste our food and award us marks.

They give us pepper, salt, maggi, vegetable oil, tomato paste, detergent (to wash pot, not to cook abeg), quarter bag of rice, raw meat, firewood, Onga, and all other things they deem enough to cook food.



But then the problem is that these things are not enough. And this is where people begin to do oversabi.

You know those people in university and secondary school, those ITK classmates who when asked to define Osmosis, say, “According to Albert Einstein 1945, page 201, column 11, line 43, Osmosis is sfhdlahd.” Shebi you know them na? Them full this camp.

Ordinary cooking competition that they gave us rice and pepper for, some people started to prepare salad, banga soup and starch, fried rice. I think some people even prepared amala and ewedu. One platoon went to buy crates of soft drinks. Another platoon went to rent aprons, table cloths, decoration fabric. Tiri gbosa for una. See my platoon people, we gathered and told ourselves we are not participating. Competition that they will not judge us fairly for anyway. Why kill ourselves?

Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-19-life-is-a-pot-of-beans/

NYSC Diary Day 20: What Happens On The Last Day of Camp?

7:00 AM
Do you remember this song? “Holiday is coming, holiday is coming, no more morning bells, no more teacher’s whip, goodbye teachers, goodbye students, I am going home. Holiday!”

When I wake up, I remix it: “Going home is coming, going home is coming, no more bugle o, no more morning drills, no more parade, nothing, nothing at all.” Mhen, the bliss.

Today, no bugle wakes us up. Sunday, like I said, is indeed a day of rest in this camp.

12:25 PM
After service ends, I return to the hostel. There is not much to do, not much to pack. I am donating my bucket, rubber shoes and whites to the NCCF. They often take it for the Rural Rugged Evangelism. If this were a school, perhaps a university with the liberty of space, I would tour it. Take a final walk around, look at things, places, and allow myself a final moment of laughter, a time to say goodbye to the city. But we’re in a camp, bushes and soldiers around us, what is there to say goodbye to?

I lie in bed doing nothing until sleep takes me away.

2:40 PM
Suddenly, there is the sound of the bugle. Next thing, soldiers are chasing us out of the hostels, asking us to go to the parade ground now. We dash out. People doing laundry abandon it and leave for the parade ground. We grumble, but we are happy because we know this is the last time.

And let’s be honest, what exactly are we being summoned for that cannot wait until we assemble for evening parade? These people and the unnecessary ways they use power.

When we get to the parade ground, we are told that we should go back to our hostels, get lunch, and come back to the parade ground at 3:40 PM. Dismissed.

This is so absurd, so annoying I don’t know what to say or do. This is what he wants to say and we are summoned? What happened to OBS? Why could it not wait till parade? Why oh why?


3:00 PM
Lunch is rice and chicken. For the first time, I get a very big piece of chicken. My joy knows no bounds and I devour it with glee. After I finish with it, I go to the bankers to get my ATM card, and then I head to the accounts section to get my bicycle allowance. By God’s grace, I am given. Lol after days of going to and fro and I finally get paid. Chai.

Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-20-what-happens-on-the-last-day-of-camp/

I followed this thread back to back.
Job well done.
I wish you journey mercies back to your residence and I wish you the best during and after your service year.
God Bless!!!

I Enjoyed every bit of this. Now let me go have a first hand experience of it.

I hope we get at least one last post

homesteady:
I hope we get at least one last post

Yes!

NYSC Diary Day 21: On The Last Day Of Camp

6:10 AM
Now, my watch has finally ended. Or maybe it has just begun because I still have 10 months to go. But I have just read somewhere that it is nice to focus on the now, to dedicate my energies to doing the things that seem short term, and so I can say I am happy, truly happy, but also a little bit sad.

Regardless of your experience in the camp, the last day is usually the one where all the emotions hit, especially when you consider the truth that you will never be together in one place again. Many people are relocating, and people are bringing reports of the new states they have been posted to: Akwa Ibom, Anambra, Enugu, Oyo, Ogun, Lagos, Ekiti, and all other states. Many more are flung to places in Maiduguri. We won’t ever be whole again, you know. We can only meet in twos, in threes, and these meetings are sometimes a thing of luck.

7:28 AM
I go to get my khaki ironed and when I return, I sit on my bed and watch everyone pack. There’s that guy who once angled his butt to demonstrate a sexual position. There’s that other guy who said he could sleep with his friend’s wife. The guy we all refer to as Landlord, he’s over there. A guy we refer to as HIV passes a paper around for us to drop our WhatsApp numbers so we can create a group chat. We laugh. We joke. A guy pushes his waist pouch to his chest area, covers it clothes and calls it breasts. We strip the bunks of mattresses and return them. The metal framework glares back at us, bony and bare.

8:31 AM
I dress up, but this time, there is no force. We have all the time in the world. We also have no time. There is the parade, the final parade. Before that is breakfast. After these two things are done, we have to make the trip back to our various destinations and people who are staying back in Maiduguri will get their posting letters.



I wear slippers and a shirt over my khaki and created a vest. I turn my cap backward, something I have been dying to do for days but am unable to, because it would attract punishment from soldiers who refer to that act as “Dragging Nigeria backward.”

9:00 PM
I spend time with my friends from OBS. We spent only two weeks and some days together, but suddenly it feels as though I have spent four years with them. F. who came second in the Mr. Macho contest takes bad pictures of me. I take bad pictures of him too, and some really good ones. We laugh. E. sets the self-timer and we spend time jumping and making poses. I head to the kitchen to get what will be my last breakfast in camp. They serve bread and tea, and the man in charge takes my card from me, tells me to detach my passport.

It all comes down to this.

Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-21-on-the-last-day-of-camp/

Harbioye:
I followed this thread back to back.
Job well done.
I wish you journey mercies back to your residence and I wish you the best during and after your service year.
God Bless!!!

Deiok:
I Enjoyed every bit of this. Now let me go have a first hand experience of it.

Thank you! Read the last update.

Nice one bruh. But wait oooo no babe. You mean you did not collect any babes number?

BigCabal:
NYSC Diary Day 7: What Is SAED And Why Is It Pronounced ‘Saheed’?

5:03 AM
I leave for the parade ground without taking a shower. When I woke up a few minutes earlier, I felt tired. Really tired. I lay in bed and ignore everyone trying or not trying to wake me. It will be a good day, I thought. Just me, sleeping myself away. But then the soldiers barged in and my dreams were shattered. There was no time to take a shower. I simply brushed my teeth, washed my face and dashed out.



On the OBS (Orientation Broadcasting Service) group chat, there is a message asking us to be at the studio by 6:00 am. A delight, because it means I am exempted from parade. At the introductory session, the Camp PRO told us that if we join OBS in order to escape parade, we are wrong. But look at me now. I skip to the studio, happy that I will be skipping parade after all, Camp PRO’s words or not.

The studio is empty; I am the only one present and soon, the head of OBS, a fellow corps member comes in to tell me that it is a must I attend morning parade and that I can come back after it is over. “Oh really?” I say. I look happy on the inside as I go to the parade ground, but deep down inside me, I’m die.

Platoon 1 is in charge of Morning Meditation, but because they failed to submit their write up to the Camp PRO for edits, their presentation is dead on arrival. Tomorrow it will my Platoon’s turn, and suddenly everyone is turning, asking how far with it, and are we good to go?

7:27 AM
I’m at the OBS studio, being generally useless but still looking useful, since everything to be done has been taken over by these ladies who, apparently, are either true OAPs or studied Mass Communication. There is an argument about phonetising which basically is a warning to presenters not to use fake accents. Opinions fly about, but me I am hungry. When the bugle sounds for breakfast, I make my way there immediately.



Breakfast is pap and beans. It’s been 756,289 days since I ate beans, and tasting one spoon of it feels the way I imagine an orgasm must feel.

10:15 AM
Lmao beans and pap as breakfast is a scam. I WANT TO SLEEP! I wonder if there’s a sleeping medicine in the food, but I doubt it. Someone says that pap induces sleep, and there’s nothing to worry about. There are plenty WebMDs on this camp, sha.



Today begins our SAED meetings. SAED (Skill Acquisition and Entrepreneurship Development). This is one thing I dread, because every time ex corps members talk about it, they tell stories of how boring it is. I don’t know why they pronounce it as Saheed.

10:45 AM
The lecture is as predicted: boring, the crowd, rowdy. We are given a booklet on entrepreneurship, another booklet on accounts. A man referred to as the accountant tells us the importance of having your bank account before leaving the camp so your allowance can be sent into it. In between this lecture, I drift from sleep to wakefulness. My mind fills up with unnecessary trivia—will I ever find the love of my life? Two plus two will give you four, so in two, three years, some of these people will be married. how do people find love in camp sef?



I joke with the people seated next to me to keep awake. I pay no attention to the lecture, even though bits and pieces of it keep floating into my head: “We teach people craft. What business idea do you have? We can provide loans for you. Who is an entrepreneur here? is your business registered with an association?”

Read the rest of the entry: https://www.zikoko.com/life/nysc-diary-day-7-what-is-saed-and-why-is-it-pronounced-saheed/

OP please what are the requirements for joining OBS? we're you asked to make a write up? did you go through an interview or screening? help a brother