MEMOIRS OF AN EX-OTONDO

Hello, my readers! Happy weekend to you all. Today is the 25th day of November 2017 (like say una no know before).
Since I am a stickler for dates, I guess this date (25th November) will always be a memorable one for me.

On this day, two years ago, I was supposed to travel from Delta state to the Nigerian Law School, Abuja campus for my screening for my call to bar ceremony and also to resume at the Yikpata orientation camp, Kwara state for the opinion ceremony.(If you don't know what otondo means, ask a corper or an excorper).

When I got the news, I was in a fix. After wracking my brain, I decided to go to Abuja first, and then proceed to Kwara state.

Well, after the screening exercise at the Law School, I left for Kwara state on the 26th day of November.

I arrived at Yikpata Orientation Camp,at about 8pm. At last! The long-awaited camping experience had come!

But.... My first day on camp started on a bad note. After the 'preliminaries' at the gate with some soldiers and I got into the camp, I discovered that my bucket, purse, canvas, and some other things I had bought at the park in Ilorin were missing. On top of all that, I was tired and hungry. I hadn't had a decent meal that day.

I worked back to the spot outside the gate where the soldiers made us stand but couldn't find the items. In that angry and hungry state, I went to Mami market where I was served a miserable, smelly, cold lump they called Eba, and a very tasteless and cold and almost watery liquid they called okro soup. Kai! I was so angry. I regretted walking past the indomie joint for this terribly unsavory meal. Needless to say, I couldn't eat it, but still, I parted with 300 Naira for nothing: and walked back to my hostel with an empty stomach.

The next day, I wore mufti to the camp ground, with some of my roommates as I no see white to wear. No be small yab one soldier they called 'RSM' yab us o.

From that day, I knew I wouldn't enjoy this camp thingy. Standing in the hot sun and singing useless songs was not my idea of fun Jare.

And then again together with some of my multi roommates, we were directed to where we would get our 'uniforms'. The kaki trouser and jacket were thrice my size. The shoe was ugly and was a size 45 abi 48? For my small leg? Well, we had to go to the tailors who seemed to be working hand in hand with the camp officers because most of had oversize uniforms. And these tailors were buuusyy, which of course would mean money was flowing in.

Our visit to the tailor was a good excuse to avoid going back to the campground, considering the fact that the sun was so hot. I didn't mind missing the swearing-in ceremony, after all I don sign their paper.

I was placed in Platoon 1. I was terribly uninterested in what went on in the platoon, though I tried a few times to participate. I remember looking at some of my colleagues who coordinated the activities in the platoon and I thanked God everyone wasn't like me. I admired their commitment. Although I later realized that some were so zealous because they were told that the degree of their participation in these activities would determine to a large extent where they would be posted to. So if you 'worked' well, you would be taken to Ilorin.

I lived for the time when 'Nigeria would go to sleep' at 6pm so I could relax in my hostel or go to NCCF.

Ehen! Speaking of NCCF, I had been trying to locate their chapel upon entry into the camp but I couldn't. No thanks to the fact that most persons around me didn't attend NCCF. And I soo much wanted to be a part of them because I had heard amazing things about that body.

On my first Sunday in camp, I got dressed and decided I would ask for directions and get there somehow. I succeeded. Immediately I arrived at the chapel, I just knew I had 'come home'.

I had always wanted to serve faraway from home, in a place I had never been before. NYSC for me was meant to be an adventure. But somehow, when I got to Kwara, I was happy and at the same time feeling lost. But with NCCF, I found a home away from home. And NCCF was the bestest thing that happened to me on camp. There's just something about worshipping with fellow believers. This community feeling.

That is not to say that I didn't meet nice people outside NCCF. I did. It was meeting these people from different places that made my short stay in camp a tolerable one.

If not, the sound of that blasted bugle, everyday, waking me up from reeallyyy sweet sleep, rushing to the campground in the harmattan, was enough to reduce me to tears everyday.

I remember a notable incident in camp. That day, my platoon and Platoon 8 had gone training. My body was seriously aching me when we got back, so I didn't go to NCCF that day.

At about midnight, the bugle sounded and a female soldier banged my hostel's door. You know how that bugle can penetrate your sleep no matter how deep it is. I jumped up. My limbs were still on fire. I wondered if it was 4am already. But there was no time because we were hurried out of the hostel. I was lucky to be able to dress hurriedly in my white and white and then wear bathroom slippers. Some people arrived the campground in different shades of nakedness: some merely tied wrappers, some were barefooted. It was not a small sontin.

When we got there, we were told the fire alarm was sounded so as to test our readiness to handle emergencies. How fast we would be able to get out of bad situations. I was so angry! Why now? When my body badly needed sleep?

We all went back into our rooms and it was as if we didn't even close our eyes when the bugle sounded as usual at 4am.

I had to leave camp earlier because of my preparations for my call to bar ceremony. While I was happy to go, I was grateful for the experience.

To all Otondos in camp, especially if you are a believer, enjoy the experience as much as you can. But don't get distracted. Don't throw away your values because you want a good placement, or because everyone is having free Sex. Remember your Father.

And please, FIND NCCF. It's important.

Oya white fowls, Corper wee?!