The Soft Issue
August 2017
Story from Outside
The Camp
By: Usman Adeyanju
Y
ou know the state of being neither happy nor sad. Some call it
apathy. But I think it is something more, much more than that.
This was exactly how I felt when I saw the Welcome to NYSC
orientation Camp, Iseyin signpost.
Exactly five days before, in Ilorin, I was seriously wishing and hoping,
but not praying that I follow the second stream to be mobilised by the
scheme. Then I received my posting letter from school. I was posted
to Iseyin, Oyo State. I had not even spent a night in Ibadan before,
Oyo’s most civilised city, how much more Iseyin. Camp was to open
three days after the collection of the posting letter. I had not prepared,
partly because I had wished to be part of the second stream and partly
because I had no idea of what I needed to survive those three weeks of
regimented lifestyle.
As a strong advocate of the social media, it became my next point of
contact. Nairaland especially. I found a thread by someone who was
posted to Oyo state. Now I had information. But I was still ill-prepared
for the weeks ahead.
I got to the gate of the orientation camp with my luggage. I was cleared
through the first phase of security check after confirming I was indeed
mobilised. The second phase of security was more intense. Here,
my luggage was searched and my documents were scrutinised. I
proceeded for my first documentation, where I was given a tag to help
begin my registration. I alongside other prospective corps members
were asked to move to the next phase of security, go meet the army,
with our luggage on our heads. Ah!!! My box is heavy.
After various drills by the soldiers, we proceeded to begin registration
proper. I later got to know the soldiers were catching fun with us, and
trust me, they were not smiling.
It was past six in the evening before we commenced registration.
By night, we were only able to complete the first stage. That phase
enabled us to acquire bed space but there was none available for the
night. In fact, there was no free bed space for males in the camp and
we had to get our bunks to an already overcrowded hall, Ajimobi hall,
which later completed my camp experience.
It was past eight before I was able to secure my box with a friend I knew
from school. I proceeded to the camp market for my dinner. Everything
sold at the camp market was sometimes triple its original price. Much
later, I got back to my hostel to catch some sleep, and prepare for the
new, unfamiliar lifestyle I’d be living for the next three weeks. I woke up
“thirty minutes” later. It was some minutes past three in the morning.
But I had slept for only thirty minutes, or so I thought.
The hall was already bustling with activities. Since I was new, I followed
82
Mammy Market
the
LENS