#MyNYSC Ten Cents of Gossip…
The Philosophy of Time, Place and Everything In-Between
When the wound cuts deep, remember the shit can either be black or brown either way it gets messy.
These were the words of an Egyptian sage to Oz, two thousand years back before he embarked on an assignment to the universe of madness.
It was on the 7th of April, 2022 right at the NYSC orientation camp Passing Out Parade ceremony the quote came to life as parting words.
And while the Platoon leader, Alonge Joy, a Covenant University erudite was lost, for she sought meanings to this ancient quote, I cried out, ‘uhmm… deep, word, word! What must we do to be wise, oh sage?!
I’m sure Joy is still lost, sadly this article is not about her but while at it, let me tell you something I found out.
Time is fleeting. People are memories.
I was talking to Yomi from one platoon like that (forgive my memory) when I concluded this in my usual philosophical self.
In our little talks, he hinted that he didn’t take pictures with people that mattered most to him in camp. He asked me — who was visibly tired of standing under the scorching sun and slightly bothered about the outcome of my relocation — to ask if that was normal.
Well, you can guess my response. ‘Time is fleeting, people are memories. What is most important is that your heart doesn’t forget what you shared with them,’ I said without much thinking.
It was the last day of the 3-weeks NYSC orientation camp.
While many were trying to capture the last moments on their phones and make memorable videos, others were sulking on the experiences. It was at that time it dawned on me that time is truly fleeting & people are memories.
We may have all at some point counted down to this last day. And when it arrived from a long dusty journey, standing before our very eyes, our hearts waned cold, for we realized how much we’d be missing those we’ve become fond of.
But, ‘na lie, everybody wan comot abeg’.
The last days were quite emotional for many people, not me though. I am an independent observer and unlike some others, I didn’t find a camp lover, so they will be fine.
This is true except for the part where I made friends and got fond of them.
There were lovers who had in three weeks found solace in each others’ arms, holding onto each other. Roommates and platoon members exchanged contacts for possible post-camp networking and others agitated about the outcome of their PPA postings & relocation submission.
On the night before our departure, my platoon members had planned a mini-picnic under the tree at the parade ground where everyone had the opportunity to introduce ourselves beyond the white fowl label we carried. It was that time to network and talk about life outside the camp.
The highlight of that night for me would be when one of the NYSC officials went fully Dolores Umbridge, the Hogwarts Headmistress, on two lovebirds.
Like Umbridge who used her wand to separate two students kissing, he scattered the white fowls who seemed to be making out (kissing) behind one of the trees at the multi-purpose hall.
The woman who accompanied the male official while laughing hysterically kept saying “iwoyi ola, won ti ma fi posting (PPA) tu won ka. Efi won le.”
Meaning: This time tomorrow, they would have scattered them with their various Primary places of assignments. Leave the white fowls alone.
Na the guy I pity sha. Dem don go spoil parole for baba.
‘What will you do when you get home?’
I asked someone unfamiliar whose name I later found out was Dorcas. She said with so much drama, “Mo ma koko sun fun bi 27hrsssssssssss. Ti n bawa ji, ma wa ni fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk, iya je mi!”
For Comfort, a much more familiar person and friend on camp seemed to be more concerned about making deliveries to her customers who had ordered her hand-made comfortable soles while she was at camp.
You can view her catalogue here, and send her a DM for your footwear.
I hope Dorcas slept for 4 days and woke up well to have her bath and eat. Thinking about it, I don’t know her but she looked like needed it.
Now that would make it look like a Lazarus story, but you get what I mean. She won’t read this, I didn’t get her contact. Oh please, I am not a bad person.
The part where I drive you to the beginning.
I know I had dreaded the NYSC orientation camp and the scheme. I mean, I still don’t like the processes and the suffer-head that comes with it but the people make it worth it.
I had come with the mindset to take a break from all I was going through, which I thought was quite overwhelming. I was also very much aware it wasn't vacation time, but events and occurrences sometimes are what you think they are, believe them to be and most importantly what you make of them.
In any case, I believe myself, Abiola David and Molayo were one of the last set of people to leave camp and we definitely didn’t see Alonge Joy. I wonder where her search for meanings to the Egyptian wise words must have taken her to.
You should at least stay with me.
It may seem like you have reached the end of the journey, but I think we would have to travel back in time. About 430 hours back. We will stop at different bus stops to buy Akara & bread.
If you are done reading and you think the title is too deep or doesn’t correlate with this masterpiece, don’t be angry. I usually like to pretend like I have sense.
And don’t go looking for what is not lost like Joy, because up next is my #NYSC Twenty Cents of Experience:
