Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper- The Search For The One - Aluta News
EVENTS

Nysc Chronicles Of A Wayward Lagos Corper- The Search For The One

I stared at my call up letter with a look of shock on my face, shock slowly turning into a huge smile. I had been posted to Lagos – The city of hustlers.

The irony of it was that I never chose Lagos as any of my choices. I had chosen Benue, Abia, Kano, and Ogun state, all horrible choices to me. Fortunately my elder sis had introduced me to this guy who worked her posting for her years back, so it was with plenty fear that I transferred the required sum into his account.

I had already told myself that if it was a scam that I would take it like that, after all such is life. This is despite assurances from my sister, whom I trust with my life. In Lagos, if mugu fall guy-man must chop, and no matter how smart you are you cannot always be a guy-man, sometimes you must be the mugu.

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But alas, it all worked out! I had already bought all the paraphernalia that I would need for service as far back as November 2016 before realizing that I was one of the unfortunate people that had been relegated to stream 2.

At the time it was the most painful thing, and I found myself wondering who I had offended. Thinking back to all my past girlfriends, I was hoping that none of them stripped Unclad in the night to curse me.

Cos I had been through a lot prior to this moment; school issues, clearance wahala, inexplicably being exempted from senate list, etc. The thing be like say person swear for me abeg… cheesy

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So you can imagine my happiness – a whole me, Lagos corper? My bank account was swelling with cash, money that had accrued after hustling over time waka-ing the length and breadth of Lagos.

Hell, I almost bought a car. So in the days leading up to when we were supposed to resume at camp, I was literally in cloud nine. As a matter of fact, I was in cloud nine for the full three weeks I spent in camp. Wayward Pikin go show them fire! And you know what, I really did. I showed them hell… cheesy
Loneliness had seriously dealt with me for the period I’d spent at home.

Not that I couldn’t get a girl to date o, just that I could never find anyone I really liked, and I had also become ensnared in a cat and mouse game with an ex who put herself above all else even her present boyfriend (the poor dude).

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I kept enduring those periods of loneliness and semi-depression with one thought and one thought only:
‘When I get to camp I’m going to find The One.’
I believed that so much with all my heart, I dunno why. I felt like Ted Mosby from the show How I met Your Mother.

So ladies and gentlemen, my name is Wayward Pikin and I’m going to be gisting y’all how I met my super amazing NYSC bae.
In the meantime, guess who couldn’t get over the fact that he was finally a Lagos Corper? cheesy cheesy

Continuation will be based on request.

5 Comments

5 Comments

  1. Oluwakemisola

    June 10, 2017 at 9:56 pm

    Lol… Shaa continue first…

  2. Abidemi

    June 11, 2017 at 12:29 am

    Hmm… Seems interesting… Next plz

  3. Ibikunle Abigael

    June 11, 2017 at 1:15 pm

    Okay then!

    As a wayward pikin, one of my major concerns was how I was going to cope in camp for three whole weeks without my favorite diva MJ. By MJ I mean marijuana. The three weeks stretched in front of my eyes like three years as I contemplated such a horrible possibility. I thought about smuggling some into camp but then I knew that they would search all of us at the gate for contraband and even though the devil in me was whispering in my ear that I could hide it in my bag where no one would see it, it was not a risk I was willing to take. On the D-day, all I took was my white shirts and shorts, two pair mufti shirts and trousers, my documents, my atm cards and two pair of glasses in one small bag. I ‘strolled’ to the camp like a boss (na Lagos na cheesy), the place where I would be remanded for the next three weeks and then I met this mammoth crowd there! Everybody just dey bone face based on say the sun dey fry all our collective skulls. At the gate a stern looking Man o’ War personnel searched my bag disinterestedly. After turning over my clothes in the bag, he asked if I had smuggled anything into the camp like weed or drugs. Even if I was carrying something, will I say yes?

    I looked at him with my innocent face and said “No o, I don’t do such.”

    “Good. Anyone caught with contraband will be paraded in front of the entire camp and summarily decamped. You may go in.”

    I went in with tears in my eyes because if I had known that the officer was barely going to rifle through my stuff I would have carried in my sweet, wonderful MJ with me. We were surely going to miss each other. I got to the parade ground to see another large crowd, everybody lining up. In short, in camp you have to queue for everything – even sanitary pad angry. It was the longest queue I had ever seen in my life. With my heart in my throat I went to stay behind the last person, afraid that my suffering was about to begin. Two hours later I found myself on another queue comprising of guys only, a queue that was leading nowhere. We must have stood there for hours, the sun trying to show us that it can shine brighter than all of us combined. The officer that instructed us to line up was nowhere to be found as well. Suffering!

    Another thing that really struck me was the number of pregnant women that were present in camp. I had never seen such a large population of pregnant women gathered together in one place. Anybody that went to Lagos Camp Batch B stream 2 would attest to that. Were we here for Orientation camp or did this place also serve as a maternity ward I didn’t know about? Their own queue was two times longer that the queue for guys and was also moving much faster. I stared at all of them in annoyance as if they were owing me 9 months salary. Where were all the fine sexy girls that we were promised? Is this how my three weeks in camp is going to be? We will not take it!!! angry (In Orubebe’s voice)

    When I couldn’t take the sun frying my skull anymore, I quickly went to secure a hostel room space. I was shown to a room where I chose the top bunk and summarily jumped on it and went to sleep.

    I will finish my registration later. I cannot comman comman kee myself.

  4. Ibikunle Abigael

    June 11, 2017 at 1:31 pm

    Guys read the part 2 and let me know if you want the continuation

  5. Ibikunle Abigael

    June 15, 2017 at 9:27 am

    woke up in the evening energetic and reinvigorated so I headed out with my document to complete my registration. In the process I found out that I was drafted to Platoon 7. I went to the canopy that had the inscription 7 written boldly in it, where another queue was waiting for me. By this time it was dark, but I was determined to finish my registration that day and the crowd had significantly reduced. As I stood in the line thinking about my life like I always do, my phone beeped. I whipped it out to see a message from this girl I’d met in a whatsapp group for Lagos camp stream 2 corpers. She had come a day before registration since she wasn’t based in lagos and had already completed her registration. How we met? I joined the group, and being the keyboard warrior that I am, I found myself fighting with every member of the group as they attacked me left, right and centre; and I returned the favour bumper to bumper. She had to message me privately to be the bigger man and let peace reign, to which I obliged (not!). Eventually, the argument between me and the rest of the group was settled as we discovered that it was just a problem of miscommunication. Anyway that is how me and this lady became friends, as we began to chat frequently leading up to camp. We had exchanged pictures a lot, and she seemed to take a liking to me. She had this oval face, this demure personality, and a very beautiful ebony skin with a cute pointed nose. Also, she was a Hajia (what I always called her), a muslim; in all the pictures she sent she was always putting on a hijab. However, I was yet to meet her in person.

    ‘Where are you?’ Her message read.

    ‘Still doing my registration. I’m at Platoon 7 canopy.’

    ‘Okay I’m coming.’ She replied immediately.

    In my mind I asked, ‘Coming to do what?’ I have to say at this point, that while I am generally a nice person, I am the ultimate definition of an asshole. I become an asshole when I’m cranky, tired, stressed, sweaty, hungry, pissed off, etc. And this period I was all of the above so I wasn’t in the mood to make small talk with anyone. The line moved forward so I took a step forward, I felt the slight touch of soft boobs against my sweaty back. Few minutes later my phone beeped and it was Hajia: ‘I’m at Platoon 7, I can’t see you. Come outside.’ I was almost at the front of the line so I couldn’t go back to see her and I told her so. She said she would wait and I said okay. I took another step further and felt the slight brush of fresh boobs against my back. I turned to see who the perpetrator was and saw this unassuming nice looking girl. She was dressed like an SU, the gown she was wearing buttoned from bottom all the way up to her neck. When it reach my turn and I had presented my documents I needed a stapler which the SU babe promptly handed to me. She also showed me the correct way to arrange my documents before submission and was generally very helpful. I asked her what her name was and she looked at me with such an innocent look on her face, “My name is Nifemi, from OAU.” I introduced myself too and was happy that I had made another friend. In the midst of so many people and all the stress I’d been through, I felt a little alone and less excited. By the time I was done with my registration Hajia had left, she said she couldn’t wait any longer, that we would see tomorrow. In the meantime, we were told to come and collect our NYSC kits tomorrow, as the ones in their possession were finished. I went back to the hostel famished, and wondering if I would really enjoy my stay in camp. With all the stress I’d gone through on the first day, and the huge number of pregnant women present in camp, as well as the abnormally high number of married women that were serving in this particular set, I was beginning to have my doubts…

    The only silver lining was that in a population of over 2000 PCMs, 1500 were female and 500 were male. Picture the possibilities of such a scenario for a second cheesy cheesy.

    NP – Mad Over You – Runtown

    Continuation based on request..
    #Wayward Pikin

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