My NYSC Camp Experience (I)

I finally know what shege looks like guys...

May 19, 2025

“Caleb, where have you been? We are missing you.”
“Why aren’t you posting on Substack anymore?”
“Bro, you aren’t even responding to my texts, are you sure you are fine?”
“Are we fighting?”

My fans, no vex, I am back!

Feels good to write to you again, my chosen ones (and non-subscribers reading this). How long has it been? A month?

Trust me, my absence here was very much planned. However, I regret not letting y’all know beforehand.

What prompted this absence, you might ask? Well, I was preparing to obey the clarion call (NYSC).

For those who don’t know what NYSC is about, click the link here to read about it.

I have never been the type to enter new phases of my life unprepared, and I wasn’t about to enter the ‘NYSC phase’ confused.

Personal preparations for this scheme started early this year; asking questions, reading articles and books, listening to podcasts, and most importantly, praying.

Sometime in April, my call-up number dropped, which meant the orientation camp was approaching.

However, I was in a quandary before I saw my call-up number.

In the country, people usually work their posting (direct posting) to avoid being posted to insecure states or states where there are ‘no opportunities.’— The call-up number is used to do so.

To me, that defeats the scheme’s purpose and is also against my convictions.

Notwithstanding, I had the choice to do this direct posting or accept any state I would be posted to.

It was tough, and one of the things I was praying for during that period was for the will of God to be done.

When my call-up number came out, I chose not to take the route of direct posting, which my parents shockingly agreed to.

Fast forward to the 20th of April, our call-up letter dropped. I woke up at 5 am to check what state I was posted to, and the first letter I saw was ‘B.’

I closed my eyes in fear, scrolled up and down, took a deep breath and decided to read what I saw completely.

I didn’t even know what to feel; excited? sad? angry? relieved? I went through multiple emotions at once.

It wasn’t until a few minutes in this state of emotional turmoil that I remembered to give all Glory to God that the B wasn’t Borno state (iykyk).

On the 24th of April, I packed my bags for the orientation camp at Boro town in Bayelsa state.

It was a lot for me, honestly.

First off, that was the first time I would be travelling alone to another state. Secondly, that day happened to be my birthday.

I would spare you the details of the journey, but I would advise that if you don’t like stress and have money for the flight, please don’t bother travelling interstate by road.

Oh yeah, and don’t travel on your birthday, too.

I arrived at the orientation camp past 9 pm that day, with officials asking me stupid questions at the gate.

“How many condoms did you come with?” asked an official with a relatively straight face.

In my head: Ah ah, they didn’t tell me they used to have orgies here o.

“None, sir, I am a child of God” was my response as I smiled sheepishly.

He made a remark that I didn’t take note of because all I wanted to do at that moment was to sleep.

“What about glass bottles and sharp objects?” he asked again.

…break in transmission…

I found myself in a room filled with like a 100 bunks.

“God abeg!” was the first thing that came to mind.

I had to spend a minute or two locating the bunk space I was assigned. Upon sighting it, I was disappointed.

A mattress as flat as pancakes lay on the top bunk (where I was to stay). I had to touch it to be sure there was still foam inside it.

I didn’t climb immediately as I needed to shower and unpack.

Then came the task of looking for the bathroom to shower.

While on this ultimate search, the lights went off. I was sore confused, then I remembered what I saw when reading about the NYSC orientation camp.

By 10pm there is always lights out.

Not gonna lie, that was when I knew that I was in for it.

“So, for 3 weeks, I would sleep without light?” I thought to myself.

I returned to my bunk to get my phone to use as a torchlight. I eventually located the bathroom, but there was no water. I needed to go downstairs to fetch water.

Guys, the water coming out of the tap had me in awe. I thought water was supposed to be colourless? 😭

Thank God for antiseptic sha.

After bathing, I climbed onto my ~~pancake~~ mattress and felt an object throbbing on my back. I thought I was lying down on my power bank or a random object, but I was wrong. It was the bunk frame I was feeling. *tears*

Because I resumed late, I had to start registration on the same day as the swearing-in ceremony. This meant that while the swearing-in ceremony was happening at the parade ground, the latecomers were kept in the pavilion to think about their lives.

However, one of the soldiers said that the others will “swear for us.”

The registration process, which shouldn’t take more than 2 hours at most, literally took a whole day.

Anyways, why am I surprised? In Nigeria, suffering always precedes glory; anything easily gotten is abnormal.

For Christ’s sake, we are in the ‘tech era’, why use paper and ink for regist…..

I’ll stop here for now…. Part 2 will come out soon.

By the way, while I was away, I got this in my mail 🥺