DIARY OF A YOUTH CORPER 3: Am not a Farmer

It all started very early in the morning of Wednesday the 28th of October 2015.
I woke up and remembered just 8 days down the line I had watched the much anticipated ministerial screening and a nominee said “I would like to not comment on the faceless group; bokoharm. Because, I still have a family to take care of” as I was reminiscing, my mother just came in “let us pray” she said. You know that kind of prayer where your mother would just show herself to God (refer to 30days in Atlanta for a clearer picture) as one who has forgotten that you told her that Zamfara is one of those peaceful places in the north. By the end of the prayer I understood better what that angel meant when he reported to God “Jacob did not let me go, until I blessed him” I love Nigerian mothers.
Checking in wasn't so stressful as I made sure I got to the airport on time despite the length of the prayer; the glow n excitement on my face seeing other guys going in the same direction, was just indescribable knowing I wouldn't be facing this journey alone.

Aero contractors at their wits decided to have their flight delayed for about 30 minutes again (this is becoming synonymous with them; Delay). At 4pm I arrived Tsafe camp, in Tsafe Local government of Zamfara state.  This is the place we are meant to camp without leaving the gates for 3 weeks “21 days!!” (My prison for the next 3 weeks I guess). Then I saw, closely after the gates “National Youth Service Corps Tsafe camp; FARMING is our PRIDE” I immediately asked myself “what have you gotten yourself into?”

Nevertheless, knowing fully well this country’s over dependency on oil and its recent decline in revenue making for the nation and seeing how it has immensely affected the country. I had a sense of gratitude to these ones who have stuck to farming since oil production dethroned them in the 70’s and not running to the collar jobs, they stuck to one of the few things that still had the potential to bring Nigeria together and generates extremely high revenue. With that been said, I believe I know people who would be better suited here than, tiny me… Lord why?!
I got through half of the registration process at about 8.30pm.... Everything was in analogue, so through over 2000 copers, I spent several hours (but still I pitied the ones after me as I left; they might stay till 10pm) 
I yearned for the bed like a baby craving its mother’s breast, I just couldn't wait to get into the room, but I had not eaten since Lagos. Then I was welcomed to the legendary Mami market; the place your cash is not your own.
All settled in, “Thank you God... The stress from today has been incomparable but at least I have had a nice cold shower, the bed was okay, the room moderate and the roommates all seemed cool. I hope this turns out well” I said to myself as I dozed.

A loud noise woke me up; it was the sound of a trumpet wrongly blown. And a clap of the hands of one whose palms weren’t normal, seems like one with no blood flow. I said to myself “but I just started this sleep” and “who the heck is that” then I remembered this is Tsafe. Here the military also farms.

“What have I gotten into, Lord!?”

More to follow

 Bystander: Sophina


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