Hours have been spent into days, days have bought more than a week from me. Before i knew it, i woke up on my rickety bunk and it was a fortnight gone already.
Apparently, room 38 had been my unejectable house since the day i stepped in.
Ask me how it was in there? Trust me it wasnt bad afterall. Electricity and water supply was on a A grade. Sanitation couldnt have been any fairer for a camp of 2586 people and more.
Ulomma tells me the meal from the kitchen was cool cos i never stepped foot there at all (surest mami baller you know?)
As interesting as things became, I wasnt the only one counting down to when the 3weeks would be over.
When i say intersting, The Miss NYSC contest wouldnt be the least to mention not even when my Omalicha Nwa; Amaka made the 2nd runner up.
Just as the end of the orientation camp days had drawn lip-close, the carnival was one handful of memory to cling unto.
All corps members transformed from white fowls into rather ragged bants, dancing all over the parade ground.
Turning my white vest into a ragged design too and wearing some makeup wasnt a small business. That was an entirely different me behind the mask.
CAMP FIRE NIGHT
In spite of the threats by our Oga Soldiers that the event might not hold, the bundle of sticks that i saw erected at the mami market meant something would happen.
I could feel the heat from the distance i was, watching excited corps members danced round the fire.
As the carnival was aimed towards exhibition of different cultures, i could tell that the camp fire had a certain significance too.
Life changing significance of the end days at the camp which might be exchange of vital contacts or hot romance!
I went nearer to feel the heat too. Truly the Nysc camp is the only place in Nigeria where the rich meets the poor…
PS – The tail end has drawn really close on this series. I hope you enjoyed it.
Source: Sa’eedah Wits