The last of the orientation camp
had come. This was the day we would get our posting letters; letters that would
inform us of our places of primary assignment (PPA). However the final day on
camp was preceded by the camp fire/Bonfire night which usually holds on the
last night of camp.
Earlier the previous day, we had
formed up lines according to our
state code numbers to collect theN19800
set aside as allowance for every corps member by the federal government. In
addition, we also got N1500 as transport allowance (also known as
bicycle allowance). Many debtors had gone to settle their accumulated debts at
mammy market. Some of us purchased gifts and the like for those at home. All in
all, it felt good walking round with less than N19000 in my waist bag.
What i spent on will remain secrets. Okay i bought a very handsome watch and a
couple of novels, shikena.
Just to refresh your memory and catch up with other episodes, just click on the links below:
The Corper Diaries (Pt 3) - Na so drilling be?
The Corper Diaries (Pt 4) - C for Calabar Kitchen, C for Cynthia
state code numbers to collect the
Each platoon was preparing food
which would be judged later that evening then served to the platoon members.
Arrangements and preparations were in full swing for the bonfire later in the
night. Finally, it was time for the events of the evening to start. Each
platoon had a table set before them where the prepared food was set for the
tasting pleasure of the judges and the satisfaction of hungry stomachs of corps
members. At the end of the tasting competition, platoon 4 was adjudged to have
the best-cooked food. Wetin be my own? na to chop belleful jare. Sadly, my
great love for food (no i am not a glutton, i swear!) is not evident in my slim
build.
While corps members were tucking
into the food accompanied by drinks, the bonfire was lit by some of the
soldiers on camp. Each platoon was called out to dance around the bonfire to
the sounds of music. According to my friends in other states, especially Lagos
and the FCT, artistes came to perform at their bonfire nights. Well i enjoyed
ours immensely notwithstanding that no artistes were present. Dancing round the
leaping fire, taking photographs and chanting along to the lyrics of the
numerous songs, i felt like a Kegite. I used to tease my mom that when i got to
the university, i would join the Kegites Club. The only club i joined in the
four wonderful and uneventful years i spent in the university was the Drama
Society. Yes, i am a very good and responsible Nigerian but that's a whole
other story.
The activities of the evening wound
to a close and we dispersed. Cynthia chose that moment to give news that
touches the heart; she had filled the forms to redeploy back to her home state
and it had been approved. I should have seen that coming because she clearly
wasn't adapting to the weather and the environment of the state. In fact her
complexion had begun to darken so i tried to understand her position. No wonder
she wanted us to take a lot of pictures together. There was nothing i could do
except bid her be safe and take care of herself and call me from time to time.
Hopefully, absence would make the heart grow fonder and on that note, we
parted. When i got to my room/dorm, the happenings in the room were enough to
help my mind settle. At one side were members of the Nigerian Corpers Christian
Fellowship (NCCF) raising prayers of thanksgiving for the time at the camp as
well as prayers of protection for our movements to our various PPAs. At the
other side were guys obviously drunk, raising their own 'prayer points' with
very loud voices; it was a comical situation. At one point in the rowdiness, i
dropped off to much-needed sleep.
"Wake up! Wake up!!” , we were
roused to wakefulness at a very early hour. Time to pack up what's left our
belongings that had not yet been packed, take our baths and return the
mattresses we had been using to the collection points. Then we got dressed and
waited for daylight and our posting letters. Daylight came; we formed up into
our platoons and awaited the governor of the state or his representative to
address us with all the attendant ceremony that accompanied it as part of the
winding-up activities. When that was concluded, we were told to form lines according
to our state code numbers for collection of the posting letters.
As many people got their letters,
there were whoops of joy, faces with expressions of resignation and some
tear-streaked faces with different levels of sobbing depending on the location
of the posting. To most corps members on camp, the only places worth serving in
Kwara were Ilorin, Offa and Jebba. Most ladies posted to locations aside these
three, especially those posted to places like Baruten and Kaiama almost cried
their eyes out based on the reputation rumor had attributed to those two
locations.
I was posted to a secondary school
in a town called Bode-Saadu. Some of our senior colleagues serving in those
various locations had arranged buses to transport us to our PPAs. The 21 days
on camp were over; i carried my bag and followed the directions to where i
would join a bus going to my destination.
Bode-Saadu, here I come!
please publish this book na. interesting story
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