Memoirs of a Nigerian Youth Corps Member-Episode 1

When I got my letter, I was confused. Where on earth was I posted to? The name looked so strange that I had to ask God which sin I committed to get posted to such an unfamiliar school...Community High School Bataki Idiya, Ido Local Government! What kind of name was that? I was hoping to see Nigerian Breweries, NNPC or some tush name for that matter not CHSBI! I asked a superior corps member if he knew the school and his response was the least encouraging. The first thing he said was “ViiillAAge!!!” (stretching the word in a loud voice). Then he went further without trying to make me feel better by telling me there was no telecommunication network, no power supply, and the place was far from civilisation. 

We went to the Local Government lodge, did all the necessary formalities and I got a place to stay in the corpers’ lodge of my Alma Mata, Command Secondary School Ibadan. When I told my roommates the name my PPA, they gave me more pathetic stories about using guns and setting traps to hunt for meat (when I thought what I was told earlier was the worse). They told me that people posted there usually do not show up and advised me to do the same. (The other people posted to the school had made up their minds not to work there.) I tried all I could to get redeployed. I even went to my Alma Mata and pleaded with them to take me. I also went to NYSC secretariat to see a woman that I was directed to by my ex-Chemistry teacher. But they all said the same thing, ‘’we need a rejection letter from your PPA’’. I got fed up with the whole thing, and I wasn’t willing to tell the slightest lie to get my way.

In frustration, I headed to the strange land I was posted to. Even the journey was not encouraging because those I asked for directions kept saying “igbo” (meaning village, hope I got the spelling right). It got to a point where I had to take a bike because buses were not plying that route at that time.  The bike ride seemed like forever, I kept asking myself when we would get there. Then we got to a Y-junction, the left arm the tarred road continued while the right arm the red sand began. We went from the tarred to the not tarred road (red sand to be precise).

Then I began to cry...To be continue