My lips went stiff and my eyes raced slowly as I read a part of the induction oath. It read:
"…be prepared to serve honestly, faithfully and if need be pay the supreme sacrifice for the fatherland."
Just as my mind got busy interpreting its latter part, my ears picked up whispers:
"Me ke! Die for Naija?"
"Never." Another added.
"For 19,800?" Yet another whispered.
While I worked at suppressing giggles, I heard yet another whisper.
"Shhh! Soldier dey come. Una wan frog jump?"
Silence.
Contemplating on those words I wished, hoped, prayed (I can't remember which exactly) and longed for a Nigeria where its citizens would be proud to pay the supreme price for it. That Nigeria shall come.
It had been a tedious day. I think I had wished that the sun and moon would change places - even the sun had come to witness our Swearing-in ceremony and she came in all her glory. I stood - in my green khaki trousers, crested vest, jungle books and cap - with my right hand on my hip, my left hand holding the pledge sheet, a squint on my face and a frown to match. Yesterday evening almost broke my back. We were arranged, in military fashion, according to platoons. Every swearing-in ceremony is attended by a top government functionary and it is customary that corps members present an official salute - ours was no exception. We were speedily drilled to break point by our platoon's army officer. I fared well. I remember my time in Topfaith International Secondary School; every independence day, we competed with other secondary schools in a "March-Past" at the Local government headquarters and we were always second to none. My experience paid off here.
We came out early - 8 am - to await the arrival of the governor. Insofar as the governor did not arrive, we could not start. Ladies as usual, came out late and with makeup. I won't ever stop wondering how they did it; in the face of stress they still found time and energy to make their faces up. Had they known what they were going to face they would have used that energy to drink water instead - as you will see.
One hour passed gracefully without much fanfare apart from the frequent changing of standing positions by many of us. From standing straight, many slouched then bent with theirs hands on their knees then squatted and then sat on the sand. Laughable! Funny enough the "beautiful ladies" were first to sit - totally ignoring makeup. The resplendent military - in ceremonial wear - had formed an impregnable wall all around us, their eyes trained on us searching for defaulters. As the second hour strolled away, the sun came out and stood overhead. This was hell. I remember a joke that was cracked:
"Abeg make person flash governor make in come sharp sharp. I don dey tire." A guy said.
Laughter.
We soon quieted down and remembered the burning heat. Naturally blessed with a fair complexion - now don't get jealous - I saw my skin turn red. This was it. What kind of Oath required the sacrifice of burnt flesh? It just reminds me of the lessons we were taught in Sunday school class as teenagers - "Old Testament Sacrifices". The Jews were required, by God, to sacrifice animals on altars for forgiveness of sins. Now I could understand what pain these animals had to go through for man's sake. And it just seemed reasonable to me that if the sacrifice for sin required so much pain then sin itself inflicted - at least - just as much pain on man. No wonder someone wrote in the holy book that the wages of sin is death. My skin got so red that I felt tingles. I wasn't alone. I remember a friend of mine, a beautiful lady, whose name was Favor (not real name). She looked so red that I cared less for myself and had a good laugh.
By third hour I was thirsty. The "pure water" sellers were without the parade ground and the soldiers kept us from buying some. They were just like the great gulf that separated Lazarus and the rich man. In my state, even a few drops of cold water would have helped greatly. We pleaded with them through our eyes and posture and words. They seemed unfazed in sunlight - perhaps comfortable. If hell is indeed hotter, as the preachers say, I don't want to be there - for my experience on that day is sufficient warning. I'm sure a person or two fainted.
Finally, the soldiers allowed us to run and buy water. Only few people were allowed so we had to contribute money and send for them. Amidst the running around for water, the "governor" arrived and pin drop silence was restored to the parade ground. Even the air refused to move so I had had to catch some through my nostrils. His representative, not wasting time, stood in place to receive our salute:
"Three hearty cheers to the Executive governor of Kwara State - Alhaji Ahmed Abdulfatai." The overall parade commander, a corps member shouted.
"Hip! Hip! Hip!"
"Hurray!" We responded.
The experience was electric. Even the villagers (children particularly) were enraptured by our parade. They had come out in their numbers, formed a wall at the west side of our parade ground and watched with "open mouths". I tried to second-guess what they'd tell their mothers when they got back home - I won't share my thoughts but I'm sure they were inspired. Few things are more fulfilling than serving as a source of good inspiration to someone else - it's worth every effort.
After the swearing-in we were now, officially, "corps members" having just dropped the prefix "prospective" that had hitherto been our first name. It was worth the pain. I saw so many photo-posturings that I forgot to take one myself. People were happy. The very sun that had been an enemy moments before, having tasted the spleen from our tongues, was ignored - perhaps forgiven. People stayed long on and around the parade grounds snapping photographs. I'm was shocked by man's ability to forgive (Nigerians particularly) - and forget. No wonder Alexander Pope - the great poet - said, "To forgive is divine."
I dragged myself to my room eventually, sat on my bunk, and refused to change into my white shorts and shirts.
"Llyod! You never change comot your khaki?" I asked.
"Young man, you think I like that white and white thing?"
"Really?"
"Yea, really! If I had my way I'd wear this throughout today."
Getting up to change up I asked him:
"Why?"
"Wearing this khaki is a dream come true o! When I was in secondary school, corps members came to talk to us about HIV/AIDS. They looked so smart in khakis and I looked forward to when I'd wear mine too"
"Are you serious? I have never looked forward to wearing khakis." Segun chipped in.
"I'm indifferent to it." I added.
My room was a haven. After the daily activities on camp, it was one place I looked forward to. I had intellectually sagacious roommates and we always discussed - and sometimes argued - on matters; politics, religion, relationships etc. It was fun. We even had positions and offices. Smart was the "High Priest", Llyod was the "Food Priest", Segun was the "Room Journalist", Bode was the "Information priest", Patrick was the "Room Pastor and I was the Special Assistant to the "Food Priest on Special Affairs" code named (SA to the FP on SA). What a room!
A POEM (BY AKPOBASA ANTHONY)
Those who had longed admired corpers' uniform,
Woke up with smiles,
Yesterday was a dream,
Today, here I am with reality,
Few others are indifferent,
To the parade ground we go,
On a green khaki, white crested vest, cap and jungle boot,
A change for a little while,
Not white and white like white fowls,
Under the sun we waited on the Governor,
As believers awaits their coming lord,
Like the soldiers, good to go we are,
And all correct even in discomfort,
There he is, position taken everyone,
In no time, signed we one year to commitment,
Under the sun or rain,
Full dedication to the clarion call no matter the cost,
Knowing that all is for a little while,
Sooner than we think, it'll all be history.
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Dear Reader,
If you're viewing this from your mobile phone please click on "view web version" at the bottom of the page and join our discussion forum on the right side of the page. I'd love to have feedback from you! Next episode will feature a guest author - Samuel Akinbo (I call him Proff)- who will write on our "excursion" to the Yikpata River - a river close to our NYSC camp. It promises to be interesting. Stay tuned!
NEXT EPISODE:
Date: Friday - 17th May 2013
"That Nigeria would come"
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