Decades: Chunks of Time

I know this is a bit old here but, I had to do it! 3 things that scare me - not being successful , getting fat , and not making heaven . 3 people that make me laugh - Vicky , my father , and Olumide Lawyer . 3 things I love - God , reading , and writing . 3 things I hate - snobs , pride , and malice . 3 things I don't understand - life , women , and cars . 3 things on my desk - JAVA tutorials , Mobile Computing tutorials , and 3 Unfinished novels . 3 things I'm doing right now - writing , listening to music , and cooking . 3 things I want to do before I die - Birth and raise identical twins , write 50 bestsellers , create a multi - million dollar exciting JAVA game for Nokia phones . 3 things I can do - create websites , make bead accessories (from jewelry to baby teether to bags) and write . 3 things you should listen to - God , Pastor Sam Adeyemi (Daystar Christian Centre - google it. They even have life broadcasts) , and Positive thinking tapes . 3 things you should never l

I just watched a segment of 'So you think you can dance', and I got teary - eyed. There is this contestant that seemed, well, he sort of had no neck. The great part is that he made it to the final four.  The greatest part is that the whole crowd was touched by his performance - they were on their feet by the time he finished break - dancing to Christina Aguilera's 'aint no other man'. Even some of the judges were on their feet, and clapping. One of the judges was so wowwed that he has promised to put the young man in an upcoming movie. I was touched by his performance. I was touched by his courage to attend the audition. I was touched by his determination to do something for himself, and not feed off everybody's pity. I was touched by the crowd's response, a honest and encouraging one. I was moved by the whole thing - the fact that the youth of America can do, and be, without having to be typecast into the usual jobs - doctor, lawyer, architect, e

Life is funny. Life is fun. But, most importantly, life is what you make of it. At the end of camp I was really ill – high fever, chesty cough, blocked nose, and after blood tests, malaria and typhoid. At the end of camp, my life was enriched. I had made many, many friends, and had memorable experiences. I remember platoon members who were married women, all trying to be young again. I remember roommates who were so much fun to be with – I don’t think anyone had to leave the room for entertainment at any time of day. There was even a pajama party held in honor of a corper that was traveling for her wedding in the second week. They are all so endearing, when I was really sick, I would always meet my bucket full of water, someone would carry out my water for me to bath, and someone would wake me up gently in the night to change to my PJs. Someone would answer the soldier that came to chase us out that I was ill and I should not be disturbed. Someone would help me collect my food from the

This is the girls hostel area. You can see us in white white, and I was on my way back from the Dining area, after collecting jollof rice and chicken.

Now everyone except me knew about the marching, and everyone except me was prepared for the terrible conditions of the toilets, so I think a proper list of things to take to cam is in order. Sun screen: fine, you may think you don’t need it, but male or female, you really do. Even if you are black, even if you are posted to a cold area, the sun will always be there. The sun shines harder in cold areas, and flat lands. You need it to protect your skin complexion as well as to protect you from the sun’s harmful rays. BUY any lotion that has sunscreen as one of its properties. I left home with ordinary cream, with a fair complexion. I came back, black, with only one part of my body testifying of my former skin hue – the part that my bra covers everyday. The sun penetrates the white shirt (we call it tissue paper cos it tears like tissue during the first wash) and shorts that the officials give you. Pillow: they will never give you one, so if you know you cannot live without it then take y

Well, I didn’t go to camp to get hitched, as I already am, so I was out to make some friends, and hopefully tie some people together (Miss Cupid, as always). I made some new friends, and moved with the old. A particular guy felt that the fact that I “claimed” to be engaged, did not deter him from making his advances. I even went as far as facing him outrightly and telling him that there was no way I could consider him as a date: he’s NOT my type (notice the emphasis). He was not listening to me though. There was this scene at the kitchen that I didn’t find funny. Okay, the Camp Director had requested for a financial report of each platoon’s expenditure so far, and a budget of the future expenses. I prepared the report, and told him to tell the committee heads to prepare their budgets so the final one would be a compilation of all the others. But he wanted me to do everything – I put my foot down. I refused, then our platoon was helping out in the kitchen and he starts saying stuff like

Well, there are a number of competitions that each platoon must participate in (as I said before). These include Mr. Macho, Miss NYSC, Cooking Competition, Best Drill Platoon, Volley ball (female), Meditation write up, and Football (Male). I’ll have you know that I didn’t participate in any of the competitions – well, I helped out in the cooking, and cheered my platoon’s volleyball team on (we made it to the finals), but I did not march, and I couldn’t have contested for Miss NYSC (apart from the fact that I’m short, fat and ugly (lol), Lagos Corpers were not allowed to compete just in case they won, and took the crown back to Lagos with them. It didn’t make sense to have two Lagos Miss NYSC, right?) The fact that Lagos and Abuja NYSC camps was under construction, and some corpers were sent to other camps to do their orientation, put a brief mess on things. Some Lagos corpers were sent to Ede, Osun state (about 600 of us), while some were sent to Ekiti state. So the fact that we were n

I was so weak today. Everyone’s fingers were ice – cold, like ice chips touching my hands every time I shake them. Mr. Ibrahim (who asked me formally for a dance last Saturday) began singing “You are my sunshine” to me during the morning drill. It was comical to everyone but they were not the ones feeling his icy fingers as he grabbed my arm each time he caught up with me. I couldn’t jog. I could barely walk. I have almost finished my Artesunat. I saw Uncle Wasiu and he promised to get me an exemption letter (defn: a little form that exempts a corper from all the activities). Wouldn’t it be a relief to be left alone to sleep and rest! Eventually I was left alone. Everyone could even see it in my face that I wasn’t strong, plus my voice cracked so it was very clear that I could not participate. After the morning jogging, we were released to go an eat breakfast, and it was all I could do to crawl to my room, with the aid of my friends, Lola and Hippy. I got to my room, removed my white

There’s this guy in my platoon I call Dangote. He hardly participates in any of the activities, and is on the phone most of the time. He even walks like a big man, is tall and quite cute, but if he ever claims to be younger than 30, I already know that he’s lying. My platoon has so many interesting people. There’s Naje, the Platoon leader, who’s from Delta state but is a Lagos Corper. He’s of average height, quite stocky and very black. Over the days, his leadership qualities have shown through and I’m happy to a driving force to making him take the position. Then there are so many married women in my platoon, that on the eve of the Welcome party, one Osun state male corper (ibo origins) had to confide in me that the guys in the platoon are thoroughly and extremely disadvantaged, because of this fact. There’s this babe that has made herself (almost) a nuisance in the platoon. She was elected as the Social Committee Leader but so far working with her has been really tasking. For one, s

Almost all the guys from the North have thin skinny legs. It’s a marvel how the sticks support their weight. Well, maybe not. They are usually skinny all round (oxymoron – lol). And their accent is so cute! Like “Egskuz me Madam. Vhat are ve haping por lanch?” One guy was so excited to be eating fufu, that he collected extra. When he tasted it he shouted, “I no like pupu!” There’s one guy in my platoon who’s tall, dark, lanky and handsome, from Borno state. The same lovely accent. His bride has already been chosen for him, he saw her for the first time just before he came to camp, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to have “fun” while in camp. Guys are so…….

25 – 10 - 2007 21 st October, was the last daily entry I made. Today’s Thursday and I am not on the parade grounds. Why? Because I have malaria, I’m weak, tired and my whole body, including my hair roots, aches. Today there’s another drill competition and I’m praying for platoon 17 not to fail. We practiced this morning and we did rather well. We did so well yesterday that when the Commandant sneaked up on us, he asked if we had imported expatriates with excellent matching skills. I just had to buy Artesunat (Malaria treatment medication). I ate, took the medication and went to sleep in the clinic. I was supposed to participate in a meeting with the Camp Director and other Computer IT professionals again today but I could hardly get up to ease myself, not to talk of walking to the Pavilion to be part of the meeting. Since Monday I’ve been tired and weak and eating 3 square meals a day. After the second dream about Uncle T, I called him to ask how he was doing. Aunt Bunmi sent me a

21 – 10 – 2007 I slept and slept and slept. Ben woke me up with a call, that Kanny had been brought to the camp and he was almost through with arrangements to go home. We three girls practically ran to the clinic to see him. His Mum had picked them up at the General Hospital , brought them to camp, taken them to the hall to get Kanny’s things and the to the clinic to get his exeat. We girls were introduced to his mum and sister as the 3 Ds. I don’t think I had my bath all day. I’m not really sure. Others went to church but I didn’t. I just figured – we have two more Sundays and not one, in this camp. Imagine that. I head the State Coordinator and the Camp Commandant (Military) re at loggerheads and that the soldiers are on strike. Nice, if it means they wont be stressing us like they have been doing all last week. Tomorrow is Monday again *moan*…

The Commandant made people cry in the afternoon, and made people extremely angry in the night that day. At the welcome party, he refused to follow normal procedures. He made sure that the party was very dry. There was no welcome address, the MC was a joke, the DJ tried, but he was not coordinated. The jokes were very very dry. Imagine Warri jokes not making people laugh. The Commandant ordered each platoon to send a girl to dance with him, which means 18 girls from 18 platoons were to show up. When the MC got tired of calling and no one answering, he called out 18 girls. We all watched in disgust as the pot – bellied old man danced to P – Square’s “Temptation”, with the 18 girls rubbing his body. Eventually he got tired and left the stage. At least I can say I danced before the program commenced, with Alcatraz (there was a brief period of dancing before the program started officially). Earlier, after the evening drills, one Hausa guy came to ask for a dance – as in, formally. He was l