In past weeks, conversations were sparked on social media about the significance of the National Youth Service to Nigerian graduates. Some said it was causing more harm than good, while others maintained that it was a good way to gain work experience, travel to new places, and meet new people.
Just like we always do, we opened the floor to our tribe to tell their NYSC stories; the good, the bad, and the ugly. As expected, we experienced more of the “not so good” than the good.
Below, are the top 3 selected from the stack:
Mayowa
I used to think that all these stories about secondary school girls trying to seduce male corps members were all exaggerations until I was posted to an all-girls public boarding school in Akwa Ibom. The first day I entered the classroom, the students started howling at me immediately I walked through the door. I was a bit confused, but I had made up my mind to be a strict teacher because no granddaughter of Eve was going to get me in trouble. I shut them down with the most serious expression I had ever put on, introduced myself, and started teaching. During the class, the girls kept winking at me. One was even rolling her tongue at me. I was flabbergasted. Jss3 kids! I covered myself with the blood of Christ and just ignored them. After the class, I returned to my space, only for the students to start filing into the office in large numbers and asking me unnecessary questions while trying to get in physical contact with me. My colleagues were just laughing at me. I was relieved when the school day came to an end eventually. But things were far from over. On my way to the gate, I could hear the girls from the hostels catcalling me. “Hey, fine boy!” “Has anyone ever told you that you are hot?” “I want to have your babies!” What? I had to double my strictness throughout my stay there because I wasn’t ready for nonsense.
Rose
We almost died, or almost got kidnapped, on our trip to our NYSC camp. Let me explain. I was posted to Kano to serve the fatherland all the way from the east, so I and some of my schoolmates who were posted to the same region decided to travel by a night bus. By 5pm, the Marcopolo bus, fully boarded, left Ogbete Market. We thought the bus was already loaded to the maximum, only for the driver to stop at Obollo-Afor to load more goods and passengers. Nigerian drivers never disappoint. After the supposedly illegal loading, there was little leg space because bags were packed into every available space. For a 24-hour journey! We thought this was the height of it, but the joke was on us. At the Benue-Kogi border, our driver was flagged down at a Customs checkpoint, but he ignored the officers and sped past them.
Maybe this annoyed the officers because they got into their van and initiated a James Bond chase with our driver. This made us suspect that they were some kidnappers in uniforms, so we started panicking. The chase was so intense that our bus, which was at high speed, almost toppled over. The customs van tried to overtake the bus, but the bus driver hit them out of the way, breaking their headlights in the process, and sped ahead. We started screaming at the officers who were in hot pursuit to tell them that the bus contained corps members because the story was that they wouldn’t harm us, right? Wrong! The officers brought out their guns and started threatening to shoot. That was when the driver packed the bus slantingly in the middle of the road, jumped down, and ran into the bush. This was around 10pm, in the middle of nowhere, with the looming incidences of corps members’ kidnappings that were rampant at the moment.
The customs drivers asked all of us aboard the bus to alight because we could be at risk getting hit by a speeding truck if we sat in a bus packed in the middle of the road. After we all got out of the bus, the officers demanded we all contributed some money to repair the damages our driver caused to their van. After much threats, we obliged and did the needful. We were at that lonely spot for 2 hours! A few minutes after midnight, when the officers became satisfied with the amount we raised, they left us there alone and drove off. Miraculously, the driver showed up immediately they left and almost got a beating. We sha continued our journey, thanking our stars that they were no kidnappers around the area. We would have been a platter delivered onto their laps.
Chinelo
The corpers’ lodge provided by my PPA was a nightmare! It was string of rooms in a remote village with leaky roofs, broken windows, and inadequate facilities that made our living conditions unbearable. The area was a desert without paved roads or reliable public transport. The water was also bad and I kept falling ill over and over again. We had to constantly rally fellow corps members to collectively address the issue with the local government inspctor, but nothing was done about it. When a snake fell from the roof onto my body one night, I packed up my bags and left the place the next morning. Luckily, I was able to relocate to the State my husband was residing.
Rosemary Kasiobi Nwadike
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