A MID-DESERT DAY DREAM

"I need to know if any of you will be rejecting the mark of loyalty so we can get you in the line right now!"
"Put me in the other line!" Pastor D called out.
"You're rejecting?"
"Yes, sir!"
"You understand the consequences?"
"Yes. I reject the authority of the ruler of this world and wish to -"
"I didn't ask for your philosophy, sir. Just get in the line to my right as -"
"I wish to pledge my true allegiance to the true and living God and his Son, Jesus Christ!"
"I said be quiet!"
"He is the one who offers the free gift of salvation to anyone who believes!"
"Silence that man!"
"What are you going to do, kill me twice? …"

The loud sound - "SAED!" - coming from the loud speaker to my right jolted my mind. Immediately, I closed the book I was reading (The Mark by Tim LaHaye & JERRY B. JENKINS) and looked up. I was getting fed up with the inescapable refrain - "SAED". This was the first Skills Acquisition and Entrepreneurship Development (SAED) lecture on camp. The moderator of the lecture; a fat and tall man, wore shorts, a bowler hat, very thick and long socks, a packet shirt and kept a unique beard. A little more tweaking was all that was needed to transform him to a circus material. He made it a point of duty to shout "SAED" at regular intervals. It was a call and response scenario:

"SAED!" He would shout.
"Corps members creating wealth!" we shouted back.

He was ultimately nicknamed "Mr SAED". This was our first skill acquisition lecture since our arrival on camp. The objective of the skill acquisition workshop is to help corps member create jobs for themselves and others rather than join the throng of overqualified job seekers in the labour market. Thank God I came out of my room with a novel. I set my mind back to the novel I was reading. I was at a very touching point in the novel - a part where a group of left behind believers, refused to receive the mark of the antichrist and were being condemned to death by beheading. I quickly closed my eyes and re-examined the way I had lived my life since arriving on camp. I did not want to be left behind at the rapture - I'm hope you don't want to be either!

The skills acquisition lecture venue was at the north end of the parade ground. With only 5 canopies and a pavilion, the covered area was barely able to contain all corps members. The ‘lucky' ones were able to grab a foot-space in the shades - I was among the ‘unlucky' ones. When I arrived, I found a chair under a shadow and I felt lucky. However, as the sun ran along its trajectory, that shadow disappeared and I bore the brunt of fusing hydrogen atoms interacting billions of miles away at the centre of our solar system. Such was the learning environment. Everything about the camp still seemed strange and surreal to me. There was this middle-of-a-desert feeling lurking in my heart. For a moment NYSC seemed like a punishment for being educated - it's not actually! I felt like I was dreaming. I hadn't envisaged anything like this - not at all.

In the long run I came to enjoy the skills acquisition lectures a lot. It was a time where I could enjoy reading the novels I had brought to camp as well as interact with other corps members. Today's lecture was quite entertaining and it succeeded in distracting me from the book on my laps. A young man wearing a well fitted white suit came to speak:

"Corpers we o!" He shouted raising his right hand.
"Wa o!" We responded.
"Can I wear this suit to a job interview?" He asked touching his jacket.

Shouts of "No" and "Yes" spread round the lecture venue. The young man said it was wrong to wear a white suit to a job interview - that black or grey suits were best. He went on to tell us several rules on job interviews. My mind back stepped a little - This is supposed to be a skill acquisition programme why tell me about job interviews?

The skills acquisition lecture ended by 1pm and I rushed back to my room awaiting the bell for food. I was almost cash broke - after just one week in camp thanks to the mammy market. I had underestimated my cash needs prior to arriving at the camp and purchasing essential commodities at the mammy market was very expensive. I expected there to be an on camp ATM machine - but I was wrong! As I sat on my bed awaiting lunch time, I slept off. Patrick woke me up and told me that the bell had been rung. Reflexively, I grabbed my food flask - and meal ticket, slid my dusty feet into my white tennis shoes and convinced my closing eyes that they needed to stay open. I half walked and half ran to the kitchen - Patrick by my side. It was bad enough that I was being humbled by eating camp food but staying on the queue for long, underneath the scorching sunlight, was far worse. As I neared the serving point in front of me I prayed for a big piece of fish.

"Your meal ticket." The attendant asked.

I handed it to him and was quickly cleared for food collection. My flask felt heavier and hotter as I walked back to my room. I got a big piece of fish by the way! Patrick and I ate our meal largely in silence. Eating hot yam porridge and fish on a hot afternoon was surely onerous and deserved concentration - our sweaty faces testified to this. This was camp life. Our meals were largely carbohydrates and it made sense. Only high energy meals could supply us with the strength needed to survive the military drills and camp rigours. Although at the beginning, many a corps member shunned the kitchen and bought food instead, as the days passed, many were added to our number - those who ate kitchen food. By the last week of camp, it became a thing of pride to eat kitchen food and guys gladly showed how well ticked their meal tickets were. I remember a guy behind me on a particular day. He tapped me on the shoulder and bragged:

"Na boys like me come do NYSC."
"Wetin?" I asked.
"See my meal ticket na. Na everything dem tick, I no miss even one meal."
"Guy you dey vex o! You try." I quipped.
"Oboy I no dey pity government at-all at-all."

Laughter.
He hadn't missed a meal since coming to camp. It just reminded me of a passage of scripture which says, "The stone which the builders refused is become the head stone of the corner". This was surely a case in point!
By evening of the same day I strolled around the camp to get more familiar with its geography. Everywhere was undulating and I deduced that Kwara state had a mountainous topography - I was right. As I roved round, I saw couples underneath the pavilion now covered by darkness. Immorality! Earlier today, the camp director had warned corps members to shun immorality and he threatened to expel those caught in such. I thought he was second-guessing corps members and I felt such could not happen - after all we had just arrived camp a few days before. Now I understood why he said what he said. Youths for momentary pleasure sell their destiny - how sad. What my eyes saw blends well with the poem I posted underneath - read and understand!

IN THE DESERT (BY STEPHEN CRANE)

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting on the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good friend?"
"It is bitter - bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
"Because it is bitter,
"And because it is my heart"

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Dear Reader,
There was no publication on Friday. Please accept my apologies. The guest author, whose post was to be published last Friday, has been experiencing technical difficulties and his post will be published once such issues are laid to rest. Please read and share.

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DATE: Friday 24th May 2013