I had just finished Nysc, and I was at the Iyana-Ipaja camp to pick up my certificate and celebrate my freedom from bondage. I remember getting a call from one of my closest friends – he was still doing Nysc, and he had called to ask how I was feeling. I told him I was relieved to finally be free but I was also lost about the future. I was afraid of the dreaded “So, what next?” question.
The period after Nysc is one of the weirdest ever. You are grown and done with school but you are not grown grown because there’s money worry, starting a career and figuring shit out in general. It’s a ball of anxiety.
PS: Nobody has shit figured out. You just get better at managing expectations from this life thing.
This post is for anyone who seems confused about the next step after today. Here’s a list of things you should know:
1) No one has shit figured out.
Just know that you are not alone in the pressure to get it right at first try. Land a great job, get decent money, progress with life. But there is a way the world is and the way we want it to be. Listening to stories from older people is a good way to understand that we never stop trying to figure this life thing out. This is also a good time to get a mentor, especially an older person, so you can see firsthand that we are all just trying our best.
2) Make plans but also be flexible.
“As you go through life you’ll see there is so much that we don’t understand. And the only thing we know is things don’t always go the way we planned.” – Disney lyrics.
Listen to the wisdom from a cartoon for kids. You should apply for the best of anything you want. School, job, anything. But also entertain the fact that it may not come on the first try. The goal is to adapt, restrategize and keep trying.
3) Find a support system.
At the end of the day, when the party scatters, you need people around you that encourage you financially, emotionally and all-round. This is a tough time and you need all the support and opportunities you can get. Also, you need a place to be vulnerable on the days your chest feels tight.
4) Trust the process.
This sounds cliche and overused but things have a way of coming together in ways you don’t expect. Career plans get thrown in the wind and previously undiscovered paths open up. Think of life as a marathon, you may have a bad start but it doesn’t mean you can’t still finish the race.
If you are currently job hunting and your CV needs a makeover, take a look at this.
Every week, Zikoko seeks to understand how people move the Naira in and out of their lives. Some stories will be struggle-ish, others will be bougie. All the time, it’ll be revealing.
Our subject this week is a 22-year old engineer. If you called him a genius, you won’t be lying. But sometimes, even that might not be enough. This is his #NairaLife.
How’s Lagos treating you?
Except for my rough transition from ₦109k per day to ₦109k per month, I’m mostly good.
Slow down, you say what?
Bro. Right after my Masters in Engineering – 1st class by the way – I got an internship in the San Francisco Bay area.
Silicon Valley.
Yep. When the recruiter told me, I thought I heard $30 per hour, I already called my mum to tell her “Mama I made it!” Then I did the math and well, it was actually $38 hahaha. At the time, I was dead broke actually. Had to borrow money to fix up my residence for the internship as per pay rent, buy a new laptop. Borrowed $2k. Paid back after two weeks.
Mad oh! But, how does one end up at an internship that pays $38 per hour?
Engineers are actually valued in America. Probably helped that I was in line for my 2nd first-class degree. Still, the biggest factor though is that the cost of living in the Silicon Valley area is insanely high. I knew undergrads in Facebook, Google and the likes making up to $50 an hour. To be fair though, I interned in the engineering team of one of the biggest companies in the world. That’s far from minimum wage jobs.
What type of engineering makes a person end up interning where you did?
Any type you can think of, to be honest – mechanical, computer, chemical – you name it. I’m an electrical engineer.
Insane. So, one BSc and one Masters degree?
Yup.
What type of financial stamina do you need to grab two degrees in the US where education is super expensive?
I got my first degree in Turkey actually. I had a scholarship all through my time there. Full ride scholarship in Nigeria for secondary school too.
I sabi book.
Henceforth, this is the flex that I will stan.
My father had to pay for my masters up to a point. There was the final $10k that I paid myself. Internship money.
How much did the entire program cost?
That guy tried for me oo, I just dey gauge am.
Over-try. So back to the internship. How long were you there for?
About seven months. I was working at least 40 hours a week. If you break that down to hours per day, how much does that give you?
$38 per hour multiplied by 8 hours a day. That’s 109,440 in naira. Per day.
Then when you work overtime you get paid 1.5x so $56 an hour for every hour after 40 hours. I was around $5.5k after tax.
I’m assuming they were chasing you home because overtime money is sweet.
Hahaha, when I was there, my company was trying to cut costs, so they limited overtime. My managers made me comply so I did an average maybe 44 hours a week.
I had a friend who did 80-hour weeks regularly though. Get this, from your 40th – 60th hour, you get 1.5x. After the 60th hour, you get paid 2x your base. After that internship, that guy fit buy house for Lekki.
This is the part where I ask what happened when the internship ended?
Bruh, a series of unfortunate events. The U.S. gives you three months after you graduate to find a job to secure a 3-year temporary stay, but I couldn’t find one.
Na where my screw up start.
Ugh.
Trump. It’s expensive filing papers for international workers by companies – Trump. Also, not having a strong network all played a part in not securing a job. There’s the part where I was picky about the kind of industry I wanted to work in.
But the biggest factor was time – three months is not a lot of time.
Anyway after about 150 applications, 20+ interviews I had to leave and come back home.
150 applications in 3 months?
Job application sef was a full-time job that time o.
Tell me about the day you knew you were coming home.
The final week in that three months window, I was in a state of despair. I’d done many things right you know: two first-class degrees, experience in one of the most important companies in the world but still.
The days of that week kept passing, no congratulatory emails. So I just gave up, took my card like three days before the three months elapsed and registered for NYSC.
When was this?
February 2019. I was in camp less than five days after I landed haha.
Mad oh. From one of the most advanced companies in the world to a Bootcamp. Inside life.
The theme song to my life that time was; “This is Super Story, a life of strife and sorrows”.
E be tings kraaa.
Chale!
When I came back and started preparing for camp, I fell sick, maybe the sickest I’ve ever been, yet the tests showed nothing.
It be your own village people.
I went to the camp and got an exeat the same day. Maybe my village people are welcoming. Or maybe moving from winter to classic dry season Nigerian weather.
Still, I was too Ajebo for camp abeg, and I’m not even ashamed to say it.
After camp?
I had a bunch of options, but I chose a particular energy investment company, and now I work there as their technical advisor.
So, I’m assuming these are the ₦109k/month people.
Yes. Which, in corper terms, could be a lot worse.
I’ve done a bit of everything since I’ve joined. I worked on getting my office completely solar in my first 3 months, designed systems and awarded the contracts. Fundamentally, I’ve made sure every opportunity my company pursued since I joined is technically sound. Basically, that’s technical due diligence in the investment process. I give them monthly lectures on the engineering aspects of the industry.
I have also – as it is tradition – ordered a lot of lunch.
Hahaha. Whose money?
My CEOs – I basically order food for the entire company. I’ve ordered at least ₦200k worth of lunch since I joined.
It’s a pretty good place though, and getting retained there would be ideal.
Qui –
I dunno why Nigerians treat interns anyhow compared to where I’m coming from. There, you are treated as an equal, makes sense because you are paid close to what the entry-level engineer makes.
Talking about internships. Tell me about the stark differences between a Nigerian Intern and an SF intern?
1. You don’t have to buy food as an SF intern. 2. More money. 3. In the Bay Area, people treat you like your equals. 4. Disposable income.
I know I have it good, I’m basically working at a place with good company culture. Still, Nigerians have this way of treating people who are beneath them anyhow and that translates in my office. The lack of workload and responsibility would have been a thing, but I have a lot of workload in my current place.
I would say this though, Silicon Valley was nice, good people, fast-paced, outdoors, hikes, a large variety of food. Good party scene too.
Now you know what city doesn’t have nice people, has no outdoors to speak of, and food is mostly 1 of 4 dishes?
I want to fight about the food, but that’s not why I’m here.
I mean, Lagos has a club scene, but you no fit club on ₦109k per month.
What does a drop from ₦109k per day to ₦109k per month do to a person’s mind?
I was prepared for it though so it wasn’t sudden. I know what other corpers earn. I’ve always been responsible when it comes to finances too, so now I budget hard and I stick to it. If I were making 3 million a month today I know exactly how I would spend it on because I have already lived that life.
But yes, once you’ve earned what I earned, you spend all your time constantly thinking of how long it would take you to earn that level again.
What are your expenses like these days?
NYSC finishes soon. What’s it looking like as per retention? How much is it looking like you’ll start with?
I know how much I would ask anybody for though. ₦500k for a local company, $60k per annum if it’s a foreign company, as per this life you gotta shoot for the stars.
Currently speaking to a couple of people, nothing is sure yet. I recently snagged a side hustle teaching, but it’s not consistent. ₦10k per session/day so whatever happens I would fall back on that.
What. Are. You. Teaching?
Maths. GRE/GMAT as per Japa season, me too I dey gain from am. Thank God for the useless economy making everybody want to Japa. And of course Trudeau, a good man.
You know, it would be nice to know what the going rate for tutoring GRE/GMAT is so I know whether or not to up my price. Please sneak it inside the post so I go read the replies.
What’s the future looking like though, say within the next 3-5 years?
Bro, one thing is I need to make money somehow. I’m pretty high performing, I get good feedback from people I work with, I just need that to reflect in my earnings.
I’m also passionate about the industry I’m currently working in so I hope to stick to it. Still, the industry is not as lucrative and I need it to be so I may have to change career path.
At the end of the day, I need at least a ₦500k per month pay by 2022. If not I’m off to Canada or wherever else. I learnt from my USA mistakes — my Japa will be final this time.
What you’re saying is, there are circumstances that can keep you here. By choice.
Yeah for sure. I want to be here. I am oddly patriotic. “Part of the change you want to see” kind of person. But, just what kind of change can you make if you’re hungry?
I work in the off-grid industry, providing electricity to the unelectrified. You can only do that in Africa and Nigeria has one the largest unelectrified population in the world.
Random – well, not really – but when was the last time you felt really broke?
I’m never actually that broke in that sense. I stick to my budget, I have savings. Maybe when I was at this Detty December event and it was so hard making a decision to get a 4k cocktail and I felt like, how I can be agonizing so much over what $12. I just felt bad, man.
That tradeoff goes through my head all the time – if I spend this X naira, what would I not be able to spend this X naira on, is that alternative not more valuable to me.
What’s something you honestly wish you were better at?
I’d say investing I guess. I’m currently in a money market fund but that’s about it. 10% returns. Most of my money just lies in a bank somewhere and I need to fix that.
Do you have an emergency plan for if anything goes south?
My father. Haha.
I have a solid amount in savings from my internship shortfall. About $7k only to be touched in emergencies but we pray against them sha.
Do you honestly have any financial regrets?
Other than knowing that I’d be making $80k+ a year in the USA if I’d stayed? None.
Let’s paint a picture of what this life would have looked like if you stayed.
Let’s see. Winter, so I’d be wearing a Patagonia $400 dollar jacket. Young man, 22 so no responsibilities.
Go to work – nine hours maybe. Leave work at 5pm, get home at 5.25pm – no traffic.
Have Thai for dinner because it costs about $13. Probably would be less financially responsible. Go for Happy Hour with my friends after work, buy 1 or 2 rounds – maybe $100. Buy 1 or 2 drinks for a cute girl, $50.
Go clubbing every other weekend cause I can afford it. Travel a lot. You only start to stress as a young guy in the USA once you have dependents, or paying off a mortgage or maybe paying off loans.
And you have none of those.
I’m just a 22-year-old baby boy.
How would you rate your happiness levels though, on a scale of 1-10?
5, man. A meagre 5. Someone once told me that contentment is never experiencing better. I felt that in my soul.
That’s one way to look at it. Is there something you think I should have asked you but didn’t?
There’s this “how did you make money the first time” question I see on the series.
Go for it.
Not really relevant, but I used to be a day student where most of my classmates were boarders.
I was moving stuff – contrabands like chewing gum, Agbalumo – at insane margins, as per entrepreneur.
I’d make ₦500 from a ₦100 stash, then I started making friends, giving out stuff for free till my margins were wiped out.
And so, I learned at a young age that there is no friendship in business.
Everyday by 12pm for the next 21 days, I’ll be telling you what life is like at NYSC Camp. I was posted to Borno State, but the camp holds in Katsina state due to Boko Haram insurgency in Borno. You can read all the stories in the series here.
5:30AM
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.
6:00AM
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?
7:40 PM
Food is not yet ready. We are supposed to be done by 8PM and take it to the parade ground for tasting, but since we are not done, will the judges please eat firewood and salt? The Camp Director came and said, “Let me tell you, if that food is not ready by 8PM, know that you are going to taste it and judge yourselves by yourselves.”
Why sir, that’s so kind of you. How did you know we have the same thing in mind?
8:23PM
Food is ready. Hot party jollof rice with fried and stewed beef. We bought extra pepper, vegetable oil, butter, and seasoning cubes. Our money will enter our mouth.
We carried it to the parade ground, but we went to the far back, not to the front. We stood there with our table and just chilled.
It was in this this chilling mode that we heard that our platoon came in 8th. On top food wey them no taste? Food wey we no even carry go there? Indeed, God is a miracle working God. We kuku burst into song: He’s a miracle working God. He’s the Alpha and Omega, He’s a miracle working God!
See clapping, see dancing. Even other platoons were forced to look at us and wonder about our excitement. But we didn’t even care. We simply set up table and started to serve our platoon people with one sachet of water.
The food of rebellion is sweet, I tell you. Those of us that cooked got extra meat, and later when we cleared up, I still ate extra. I must have eaten up to seven pieces of meat. Yep, seven.
Later, we heard that the eight position was for kitchen duty and that Platoon 4, the same platoon that cooked heaven and earth came last in kitchen duty.
Lmao. Is life not a pot of burnt beans?
Everyday by 12pm for the next 21 days, I’ll be telling you what life is like at NYSC Camp. I was posted to Borno State, but the camp holds in Katsina state due to Boko Haram insurgency in Borno. You can read all the stories in the series here.
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.
2:30PM
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.
4:27PM
The cycle continues: we are forced to the parade ground where we sit on the floor while the soldiers ferrett out those who are hiding from parade and marching. When they are done with their witch hunt, they let us go, but even then we don’t have freedom. We head to the football field or perch by the roadside or sit under the pavilion. We cannot go back to the hostel, we cannot go to Mammy Market, not even to get water.
I am tempted to complain, but then I remember that there was one time I prayed to God to help me go to NYSC, help me wear the white white and the khaki. Now that this prayer has been answered, why complain over what I specifically requested for?
1:20 AM
Yes o, 1:20 AM in the midnight. This is the time I head back to the hostel to sleep. We just finished with the Miss Camp/NYSC and Mr. Macho competition where my platoon came third for Miss NYSC. Look, I am not siding my platoon or anything now, but the judging was not fair. Not fair at all. Anyway, God in heaven sees us, and I know that we will be vindicated, because I know that you don’t believe me.
But see ehn, guys do the most. To be fine boy no be by chest alone o. You must get something for upstairs.
After all the groundnut oil that the Mr. Macho contestants rubbed on their body, to answer questions became a war. One guy was asked to name the president of the United States and mans couldn’t. Another was asked to sing the NYSC anthem, and he took it from 0 to 1,000 in a second. But the one wey pain me pass na this guy. He was asked to list two countries bordering Borno state. Guess what he said?
China, South Africa.
This, ladies and gentlemen, was how everything burst.
Everyday by 12pm for the next 21 days, I’ll be telling you what life is like at NYSC Camp. I was posted to Borno State, but the camp holds in Katsina state due to Boko Haram insurgency in Borno. You can read all the stories in the series here.
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.
8:15 AM
Breakfast is yam and stew. It’s a huge disc, but also so soft. I devour it while preparing what to say on air. The program goes in pidgin, and me and my co-host have so much fun on air that I never want to stop speaking pidgin.
I’m still confident about the march past. Very confident. Platoon 2 will win.
12:00PM
In SAED class, we learn about U-Report. I don’t know if you know them, but long before NYSC camp, I used to receive texts from a number, texts referring to me as U-Reporter and asking me to reply so-so to so-so questions. Me I always ignore them sha, because this is Nigeria, Nigeria where all telecommunication companies are thieves by night and network operators by day. You can go and reply a text message now and next thing you know, all your present recharge and subsequent recharges will suffer a deduction. Me I don’t play rough play, abeg.
In this place, I learn about them afresh. I learn that it is a social SMS platform created by the federal government and the UN to address social issues relating to education, health, social amenities, child abuse and the likes. According to the man, you have opportunity to send issues because the system operates based on SMS sent to your phone every week. The SMS is based on questions about health, education, domestic violence, rape, etc. They could send you a text asking if people from your community go for antenatal.
Basically, it is a way to facilitate change and a way to hear the concerns of the grassroots. And then again, it is free. At the end of the lecture, they ask us to text a particular code to join, but me I don’t. I am still paranoid. Tables can turn any time and my poor airtime will suffer for it. I can’t risk that.
1:15 PM
In the catering class which is actually called (Food Processing), we sweeten our yoghurt, and then proceed to make spring rolls.
Midway into the class, we all want to leave because parade will soon commence and we are all antsy. We need to get lunch. We need to get our khakis from the dry cleaners. We need to lay edges and slay. Stew must be poured on the parade ground. Pepper must be poured into people’s eyes. And we don’t want to be in any SAED class. Set us free, this woman. Set us free and let us go and march!
3:00PM
And march we do. When we appear on the parade ground, platoon by platoon, we are snatched. Bright coloured sashes on our shoulders to identify the right marker, parade commandant, left marker. It’s hot, but people are wearing make-up, not bothering that it will soon melt like ice cream. Edges have been laid, hair styled and shaped. Even our sub-guard commandant has shaved. Them must to take. We put on gloves. We arrange our white handkerchiefs which will make an appearance when we are leaving the field. I said it, no time to play. We came here to step on throats.
No jewelry, no waist pouch, no wristwatch or anything. Just us in our khakis. The first and second position gets a gold cup, the last gets a long wooden spoon which is a thing of shame.
Shame will not be our portion in Jesus name. We say our prayers. We line up. And then, we move. Platoon 2 for the victory, y’all.
7:00PM
We came in 8th.
If I hear you laugh or anything, I will find you and kill you. And I mean it.
We didn’t come first or second or third, we came in eighth.
Those judges don’t know what is good for them. They don’t, because how could they pass us by?
In our own defence, we were the first to march, and this meant that we were in full view of everyone. So when our platoon member fainted while we were waiting for inspection, everyone saw it. We were not the only one to have a member faint while waiting, though. It’s almost like an inter-platoon competition of fainting. We’d been kept in the sun for too long and so it was inevitable. But we had reserves step in. It all makes sense to keep reserves now.
I know our legs did not align during the left wheel and slow march. But that was all about it. Asides that, I don’t know what else happened. Even our commander (Oga Soldier) said that we did very well. Even beyond his own expectations.
But we came in 8th. Anyway, sha we did not carry last. At least that one is there.
And is it our fault that the judges have bad taste?
Me I will not tell you which platoon came first. If you want to find out, come down to Katsina state and don’t vex me.
9:00PM
There are no social activities tonight. The competition finished late, and so the Camp PRO considered us. E better o, because it’s not me and them that will come and be shaking bumbum after carrying 8th position. Which useless bumbum? Nobody should vex me abeg. Camp is kuku ending.
Everyday by 12pm for the next 21 days, I’ll be telling you what life is like at NYSC Camp. I was posted to Borno State, but the camp holds in Katsina state due to Boko Haram insurgency in Borno. You can read all the stories in the series here.
6:30AM
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.
1:15PM
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.
3:10PM
This is the moment when I discover Teni’s Billionaire. I love it! Especially the thing that sounds like “Crip!” which was mentioned at the beginning. It’s a wonder of a song, and the music video has a story that I really love. So far in this year, Tiwa Savage’s 49-99 and Billionaire are the two music videos I have found love in. Yes. There are other music videos, but I hardly know them because I no dey watch TV. Where I wan get see am? Thank God for YouTube and the gift of brand new music videos.
7:00PM
Dinner is rice and a river of stew. A small meat too. I head to Mammy Market to get something to snack on, but it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for you to find proper snacks at that market.
K. joins me at Mammy Market to rent dresses for the lady who is representing our platoon for the Miss Camp/Miss NYSC competition. The dresses look like Mary Amaka gowns, some that look like costume for church drama, some look like maternity gowns, some look like the costume for someone playing angel in a Christmas carol. And there’s that tacky red and black dress with false diamonds and whorls of sliver and black gathers. It looks like something a masquerade should parade in. Who on earth designs these things?
In the end, we shortlist three dresses: one complicated looking but actually simple dress with a train. It has leaves printed on it, and it makes me think of coffee, but it is beautiful. The second dress is a tornado of gold fabric. It looks like the adult version of those ready-made gowns they buy for girls at Christmas. All that remains is a hat with rubber band to hold it under the chin, plastic sunglasses, and white socks trimmed with organza, and a baby girl is a born.
The third dress doesn’t even size our prospective queen. It has been slimfitted to death and even though it looks like it has prospects, we do not get to see it. The woman says not to worry, that we can loosen it out.
After this shopping, we head to another stall to price glitter for our Mr. Macho. I hear that we will rub groundnut oil on his abs and smear him with glitter so that when he flexes his chest and stands before the whole camp in his underwear, ladies can fall in love. American Wonder part three and four. Orisirisi.
8:45 PM
Another OBS meeting. It means no social night, but OBS meetings are long so I don’t even know what to feel. But I do something new. As soon as the Camp PRO finishes addressing us and an OBS exco comes up to start part two of the meeting, I promptly fall asleep. No be me una go kill, abeg.
Everyday by 12pm for the next 21 days, I’ll be telling you what life is like at NYSC Camp. I was posted to Borno State, but the camp holds in Katsina state due to Boko Haram insurgency in Borno. You can read all the stories in the series here.
6:50 AM
It is only in NYSC camp that Sunday is truly a day of rest. And I mean it o. It is the only day when you get to do nothing until 4 PM when it is time for evening parade.
It’s such a relief. I take my time doing everything, including waking up. The first day that I don’t have soldiers waking you up with that annoying bugle and I won’t sleep well? God forbid o. God forbid.
I do my laundry, get bath water and rearrange my clothes. I want to go to church; I didn’t go last week and this week I must go, God punish devil.
9:43 AM
Heading to church now. I have sufficiently missed breakfast, so I stop at the staff canteen to get bread and fried eggs. It ends up being a small punishment because I don’t find water to drink. Someone gives me a sip of tea but that even adds to the wahala. Devil is this your plan? Is this how you want to come? Hahaha, my God has shamed you o.
The woman at the canteen tells me not to joke with church. She tells me that corps members die every year, and that some people get go camp and forget God. In a way, she makes me miss my mother. That’s the kind of thing Mama Kunle would say. I nod, and I head out as soon as I down what remains of my bread and fried egg.
12:30PM
EVERYTHING THEY SAY IN THIS CAMP IS AIMED AT GETTING US TO STAY BACK IN BORNO.
Seriously. Camp lectures, SAED, and even sermon. The sermon was okay, yeah, but then the pastor veered in the Stay-In-Borno direction, I didn’t even know what to do with myself again. It’s all cloaked in spirituality, of course. Like, discover the will of God for your life. What if God has programmed you to stay in Borno state? Remember Jonah? He redeployed to a state out of God’s will for him and look at what happened. I know a lady who earns 600k per month working with NGOs. I work directly with commissioners. I am from Benin, I have not even met my state commissioner. But look at. See, follow the will of God. There is direct connection to God in the North.
You people should stop. If I will go to Borno, I will go. Leave me to decide, don’t push any agenda into my decision process. Leave me while I think, abeg.
12:50 PM
I stop to see the Camp Director so I can ask him what my chances are if I decide to stay back in Borno. He says I have a good chance: get posted to the capital, receive state allowance, if I want, I can stay in the NCCF lodge and if I don’t, I can stay somewhere else.
Have I submitted my application for redeployment? Yes.
Well, I can change it if I want. I just have to write a letter of cancellation and submit it to the people at ICT. If I don’t want to write a letter, I can decide not to go to wherever I decide to relocate to after I have been posted. Just write a letter of cancellation and that’s it.
It looks (and sounds) more complicated than I am making it seem. And in a way, I am a bit divided. Don’t ask me why. Even me I don’t know.
2:49PM
Lunch is Jollof rice and chicken. I got a chicken drumstick but this one doesn’t look like a drumstick. More like a broomstick. The Jollof rice is concoction, abeg. But e sweet sha. But let’s be honest sef, wetin no dey sweet for hungry man mouth?
7:00PM
The rest of the day spirals into a quick end. Evening parade is a drag and only God understands where all our energy has gone. Dinner is yam pottage and fried fish. You people will not believe what happened to me o. I begged them for tail of fish, but when I was served the fish, I was now regretting that I begged for it. The thing looks like it has gonorrhoea. I left that place shedding tears internally.
11:00PM
Shebi you know that my hostel people do the most in yarning okoto meow gist? Well, this night is no different. They begin with the talk of “Can you sleep with your best friend’s babe?”
Answers:
A: No na, that doesn’t make sense.
B: That’s rubbish.
C: What’s there? I can do it na.
And then:
A: It means you can kill your guy na.
B: But what if they do it for you? Like say, make your guy dey gbensh your babe?
C: Wetin dey there. So far as I no know about am.
Me: Jesus Christ the son of God, look at the people you died for. Just look at.
Everyday by 12pm for the next 21 days, I’ll be telling you what life is like at NYSC Camp. I was posted to Borno State, but the camp holds in Katsina state due to Boko Haram insurgency in Borno. You can read all the stories in the series here.
6:30 AM
Today is the day that my luck will shine, but I don’t know it yet. I go through the daily rituals (wahala, actually) of waking up in NYSC camp and head to the parade ground and after everything ends. Shebi you know that we do morning and evening parade? Well, this morning is when we will test what we have learnt. This means that all platoons will march like we are doing the march past on Wednesday, which is the day of the parade proper.
We get in line. Everyone is tense, because the camp commandant is present and every platoon wants to outshine themselves. Me I am just worried about doing the right thing.
Anyway, we march. Round and round the parade ground until our jungle boots are coated in dust and we look like something from the Dust Age (is there something like Dust Age sef?) My legs and yansh hurt, all that clenching of butt to stand at attention and locking your knees so your legs can swing as stiff as a log of wood.
Breakfast is pap and akara, and I am halfway into it before I realise that they’re repeating food in this camp. I don’t blame them, because to be fair, how many kinds of food do we have in this part of the country? How many, eh?
11:08 AM
Shebi you know I said that luck shined on me? Now is the time. On Thursday, the day that SAED people did Digital Skill Acquisition and I got a knapsack, they gave a topic and said that there will be a debate. The topic is The Role of National Youth Policy in the Development of a Nation. Maybe not in that exact order sha, but that’s the general idea. So they said that all platoons will debate on it and winners will be selected. My platoon people nominated me for the debate, but I just didn’t put it in mind. Actually, none of us did. Too much camp stress and you expect us to have debate in mind? Make debate dey debate himself, abeg.
But these people came today again, and fiam, they said “Oya o, debate people come out, it is time.”
For a minute, I was this confused crab from Sponge Bob, because where will I start from?
I Googled stuff, did what I could, and then went up to talk rubbish, very sure that I was even blowing grammar bombs. So imagine my surprise when my platoon was announced as the third position. Like!
Funny enough, we tied with Platoon 10 which my friend F. represented. Na so we dey o, two friends, bunk mates and former course mates winning in Katsina. Cash prize for third position was N2,000. Me I did good boy and went to hand it over to platoon leader. In the end, it came back to me, but not until I did Father Christmas of 50% (do the maths) for platoon people.
Here’s a picture of the envelope, so it won’t look like I didn’t give you something.
1:15 PM
I have a rant. Why is it that when they have an emergency, people will tell you to “quickly” borrow them cash, and when it is time to return it, they give you audio money?
Let me tell you about G., for example. I was doing my own waka jeje in Mammy Market when G. stopped me to ask if I had N50. One spirit was saying I should just tell him sorry and waka pass o, but as per good Samaritan, I searched my waist pouch, told him I had N20. He said he was about buying water and the N50 tore, so he needed N50 or more. Did I have N100 or something? I said yes, as per Our Lord of Tender Mercies that I am. He took the money, and when I asked if it was dash or borrow (so I can know whether to look away or await earnestly), he said, “Anytime you need it, just let me know.”
My had-I-known face
Only for me to ask him during evening parade and he said, “Abeg, abeg.” I wasn’t even asking for the whole cash o. I just wanted N50 back so I could also pay the debt I am owing K. I swear that thing pained me. And it’s not the cash or something, but the fact that I asked him if it was dash or borrow. I wanted to rant like that “Angry Woman” in the “Angry Woman and the Cat” thread. But I just cooled myself. Na me fuck up na, abi no be me?
4:23 PM
Only God knows what they put in the egusi and eba that they served for lunch today. I ate it and I became weak o. I slept, woke up and then slept again. It felt as if I had lost momentary use of my senses. I was just looking like somebody that they jazzed. I had to buy bread and egg to eat so I could regain myself. Yes, I eat to come alive. Judge me all you want.
10:50 PM
Come and hear o, you people. I saw somebody smoking today in the hostel! Our true colours don dey come out o. That was how the guys in my hostel said that the girls are feeling the lack of sexual gbas gbos more than the guys. Another person now added that shebi they are already touching themselves, that they are already becoming lez. Me I just sat down like a mop, absorbing all this messy gist they are spewing.
The social night was boring, as usual. I’m sorry o, but me I am just like that. Other people find it interesting, I know, but each time I have to dress up for that children’s birthday party they call a social night, my vibe don already die. I just go there to fulfill an obligation.
It is on my return from the social night that I saw this guy, right by the toilet side. I smelled weed when I passed, but O. said it was cigarette.
The Camp director said this morning that, “As the Camp is winding down, people will begin to steal/show their true colours,” and now it is starting to make sense.
I just have one question: does this mean that before we leave, they will catch people doing intimate gbas gbos?
Ah, drama and I’m ready for it.
Everyday by 12pm for the next 21 days, I’ll be telling you what life is like at NYSC Camp. I was posted to Borno State, but the camp holds in Katsina state due to Boko Haram insurgency in Borno. You can read all the stories in the series here.
5:00 AM.
I wake up full of joy even though I am tired and would like to go back to bed. Today is Platoon two’s day to take the morning meditation. The topic is Patience, and I—yes me!—will be the one taking it. I wrote it too, then submitted it to the Platoon Leader and Assistant Platoon Leader to crosscheck it before I took it to the Camp PRO, a man so efficient he’s almost scary. They all liked it. Actually, scratch that. They all LOVED it. The Camp PRO said to add one more paragraph to wrap it up and then we move.
Today is also our Man O’ War drill, which means we have to dress in our khakis full. 7/7, as they say it.
6:30 AM
I’m so relieved, excited and energetic; I want to scream, jump, weep, and do anything. The Morning Meditation went well. It went so well, the Camp PRO said, “What a brilliant work by Platoon 2. I believe other platoons can see and take note.”
My platoon screams. This is the talk that will make me famous, such that when my name is mentioned, someone will respond with, “The one who read the Morning Meditation? Nice one. You killed it, you really did.”
Take that, other platoons, hahaha.
6:47 AM
“Who go tire? Na you go tire!”
“Corpers wee! Wa!”
Man O’ War drills begin in earnest. We jog from the parade ground to another side of the camp.
What is a Man o War drill, you might wonder at this point. Well, have you ever seen pictures of corps members climbing ropes like Tarzan, crawling out of tunnels and posing with wooden guns? Yes, that’s a Man O’ War drill.
It is more fun than parade, but it is also backbreaking. We jump up a stilt and walk to the end using our hands alone. We crawl through a tunnel. We swing from a thick rope. We climb through another tunnel covered with barbed wire. At the end of each activity, photographers mob us: “Look here!” “Smile!”” Look up” “Yes corper look at me, look this way.” It’s like paparazzi mobbing a celebrity. I feel like a hero, like I have saved Nigeria from one huge disaster.
We end the drill with a lecture: do not steal money from Nigeria; don’t go abroad, you too can fix your country. Say God bless Nigeria every morning. Low key, I’m like “Alaye jor jor.”
9:55 AM
SAED lectures are next on the list, and even though I tell myself I will stay awake and listen, be a good citizen and stop wasting the money Nigeria paid to train me, I fall asleep some minutes into the lecture.
When I wake up, they are rounding up a presentation on how to write a business proposal, the steps involved in getting a bank to give you a loan. In between, there is a mini drama presentation. And then, we are introduced to the skill tutors.
There’s leather works (shoe and bag making, abeg), tailoring, food preservation (catering), paint production, farming (poultry, fish), make up, cosmetology (how to make perfumes, etc), solar, ICT, etc.
Me I jejely carried myself and joined catering. I’m a chop life gang, plis. Remember that I came to this camp to chop the life of my head? This is the goal, and we’re getting it.
1:13 PM
I’m going out of the camp. No, I’m not decamping. I have some issues with my BVN that I need to sort out. To exit the camp, you need to write a letter requesting permission to exit and the reason for exit. The letter goes through your platoon leader first, and after he signs it, it goes to the Camp Director who requests your meal ticket and then writes an exeat behind it. I am given one hour. But I spend more than one. No, I am not being disobedient. The motorcycle that carried me developed a fault, and the bank is far. Hot sun, hot asphalt, dry throat. I wonder if Katsina is a place I can reside in. Here a pictures from the trip:
Katsina after school hours.
5:50 PM
I am pleased to announce that I have been reinstated as a parade member. Taken straight out of the reject group and brought back to march. I feel elated. The parade is now even more interesting. Slow march and quick march and a sprite of commands that make me feel like I’m whirling in a sandstorm, trying to catch my balance.
The soldiers do a demo march for us, and the sheer alignment and beauty of it is a stunner. When our sergeant returns, we love him the more.
9:15 PM
We present our dance at the social night. Look, you’ll probably think I’m biased, but we killed it. We. Killed. It. When we stepped on stage, everyone yelled, especially when our Igbo dancers started to perform magic with their waists. Later, I’ll hear that people complained that our Igbo girls couldn’t dance and that they came to seduce them with their figures.
People and pepper body, sha. But anyway, let them say. That is the energy I am ending this new year with. Let them say.
Everyday by 12pm for the next 21 days, I’ll be telling you what life is like at NYSC Camp. I was posted to Borno State, but the camp holds in Katsina state due to Boko Haram insurgency in Borno. You can read all the stories in the series here.
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.
Current state of the hostel.
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.
OBS meeting
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?
Booklet from SAED or is it SAHEED?
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?”
We sing the NYSC anthem so much I feel like the anthem itself must be weeping from overuse. Finally, amid many protests, we are dismissed.
You should have seen me running to my hostel.
You see these people? I bet they’re just as elated as I was to leave Saheed.
2:00 PM
Lunch is tuwo and okro soup and a bit of boiled beef. I devour it. I probably won’t get another chance to eat it again, so.
A girl accosts me at the staff canteen where I am eating my lunch. She finished from my school too, and my friend F. is bent on playing matchmaker because he says she is spiritual and so we are a match. His definition of spiritual is that she wears no make-up or jewelry and always attends fellowship. He says a lot of nonsense, that boy. And to be frank, why do Nigerians see you as spiritual just because you’re wearing no make-up or jewelry?
Anyway, she wants to know where I am relocating to. She feels she wants to stay in Borno, but she feels God has been telling her to not be tempted by the money. I tell her my own truth: “I honestly don’t know what to do or how to do it. But my prayer is that God leads me right. Even if it looks like I’m making my own decisions on my own, let it be God leading me. Let it be Him.”
After lunch, I return to the hostel and fall into a deep sleep. My bed, forever loving, forever caring, welcomes me.
4:50PM
The rest of the day spirals away quickly. Again, I am rejected from the parade, and I am pained, but isn’t it time to confront the truth that I am quite useless to their mission? I visit the platoon commandant, I pen tomorrow’s morning meditation which I will be taking, I visit Mammy Market to charge my phone, I watch volleyball, I joke around with O. and B. When it is time for social night, I hide in the OBS studio thinking that they will of course be doing nonsense as always. But it turns out that the party was good. Rather than have girls twerk or whatever, they present drama and dance. The one time I decide to stay back and they do something meaningful. Nawa o.
