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 ), 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 . 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!!! (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.
Courtesy of Wayward Pikin