The "Dreaded" Experience

By Nkechi Nduka…….

As I travelled back to Abia to resume duties as an SS1 Economics teacher at Methodist Boys –  Uzoakoli, I pondered on how I’d adapt to the living conditions – environment, food, water, and probably the culture.

The thought of discomfort, irritations, boredom, financial struggle and, probably, a monotonous lifestyle kept creeping in and out of my mind. I hated traveling that long, 8 hours by Road, it was hell, and the closer I got to Abia, the higher my degree of worry. It also did not help that there were other corps members – a batch ahead of me – that had nothing good to say about their different stations but were apparently consoled by the fact that they would leave soon. 

Finally, I got to Abia, got set for another journey (about an hour or thereabout) to my station  - Uzoakoli. I got settled in late at night with some friends that were kind enough to have accommodated me the minute I stepped out of the Orientation Camp; Deola and Fisola- wonderful, Christian Yoruba girls. Yes, they were Yoruba girls, never lived in Lagos but they had accepted the culture, environment and even food. The minute I got into the town I started complaining in my mind.

Every single day was hell, for the next 1month I complained about how hot ‘their’ sun was, hostile and rude their men were, apparently expensive their goods were, that their drivers were the worst in Nigeria, that they cheated people and most of their products were fake…I just could not understand why NYSC  threw me to the state. I kept saying, “If it were Enugu or even Anambra, but not Imo.”

In the midst of all these, I resumed duties at the school, I had to mentally deal with the dismissive, condescending attitude of the principal, who blamed his attitude towards us (we were two corps members assigned to the school) on the attitude of the corps members that served at the school before we came. We were not given accommodation at least for the first month, then the other corps member who was male, was given accommodation later on, so you can imagine how I felt – MARGINALIZED.

As if my woes were not enough, I had a bike accident on my way to the school. The bike man lost control of his bike (until date I still ponder on how one can lose control of his bike unless he is hit from behind or something.) That was how the bike rider and I landed on the hard-tarred road of Uzoakoli. I narrowly escaped death, the road was very busy, and most of the drivers plying the road probably didn’t have speedometers. I wanted out, I could not help but think of the accident as a sign of doom serving in Abia. “Luckily,” I had started the redeployment process in Lagos before I left; I checked the list of redeployed corps members every time, news filtered that there was a new list. The list was always pasted at the secretariat at the capital city- Umuahia., which was another journey from my station. It was that bad, I just wanted to leave by all means.

Suddenly, after the entire struggle with myself and the situation I found myself, I had two options – “ADAPT or ADAPT.” This resolution came after the long wait for my name on the redeployment list; it started to dawn on me that if the redeployment didn’t work out, and I became stuck in the town, I would be more miserable with the way I was taking everything. Then and there, I decided to relax. I made efforts at interacting with a few people, scouting for accommodation, visiting friends in different towns, seeing the town, getting to understand the ideology that guided their way of life. In that period of self-discovery  I met valuable friends, learnt a few words in their local dialect, tried the food the Ibos are known for – Opa, met some Nollywood  stars (whom I probably would not have met in Lagos), met very nice indigenes and a host of other stuffs. I also started to feel at home in the classroom, I felt as though, finally I had some form of connection with my kids, correcting their Igbo laden words became a part of the class. In fact, Informally, I was also their English teacher.

Then, on one fine Wednesday afternoon in the month of June, the head of redeployment called me from the secretariat to inform me of my redeployment. I was beyond ecstatic. In my head, I proceeded immediately to start packing and I already made up my mind on the booking of the bus ill travel in, what time I would get home, then to the food, the warm bath, comfortable bed and all that waiting for me at home. OH finally I said…I wasted no time going to inform the principal of my wonderful news.

However, in all of my excitement I realized that I had started to actually ADAPT and even enjoy Uzoakoli. It dawned on me that probably, staying was not a bad idea after all. I was struck by two incidences: the first was the reaction I got when I told one of my students that I was leaving, he was sad (he was a promising student who needed just a little push), so, in some way, I felt responsible for him. The second was the discussion I had with my favorite customer – “Nwayi Ocha” – as regards my leaving. She emphasized the need of passing through a phase, of enjoying and overcoming it, of letting things be, so that it can naturally move itself. She told me how happy she was seeing me in my ‘’corper uniform’’ and that it is an encouragement to people in some sorts to work hard.

Honestly, I am happy to be back in Lagos, reunited with my family and all; however, only God knows what would have been in Abia – Only God Knows. It was a whirlwind-like experience: full of difficulties.