Hiiii… We are getting the final part today. Enjoy!
. . . Shiii gets real
I got back into the studio and realised that people were ACTUALLY leaving (FOR REALZZ) and sh** became real for me. I was probably never going to see any of these people EVER again! The emotions I didn’t feel since the previous day started seeping in. Anyway, I figured I might as well start looking for my ride to Obi LGA. I was accompanied by, Mr Joe (bless him), a really good person, who helped me co-look for the ride to Obi LGA. I was focused on finding the woman, while he found a bus for corps members posted to Obi. After a frantic search, I finally found the lady leaning on a sweet black car. It would have been a grand ‘jackpot’ for me if she was from “Royal Academy”. She wasn’t, guys… she wasn’t. So, I carried my disappointment back to where Mr Joe found a public transport headed for Obi.
AMAZINGLY, three other people I knew were posted to the same LGA. From Lagos, I came with Nike and Seun. The third person was a girl who was my roommate (we didn’t really speak, though). I felt calmer seeing them. I was asked to bring my bags down, so, up the hill, I went AGAIN. Thankfully, Seun (bless him) volunteered to help me carry some of my things down. I’m really appreciative of the much help I had even without asking. Things were starting to look bleak, but those kind people helped brighten my mood.
I said what would most likely be my final goodbyes to most people at the studio, and we headed down the hill lugged with my ‘load’. After a while, many buses started leaving. I sat for a while, getting really agitated and wondering when we would leave already! I realised I had misplaced my jacket then. I went back up the hill to look for it, didn’t find it, and came back down REALLY ANGRY. The POP ended at around 12, my bus didn’t leave till around 4. That I felt so angry is an understatement. I also felt sad, scared, betrayed, and I really wanted to go home. Where was my adventurous spirit?
. . . The Not-Exciting Torture
My mood didn’t improve when we were finally told to pay 2,200 Naira as t-fare. It didn’t even improve when we left the camp ground, proudly the last bus to leave camp. In fact, add any other negative emotion to the one I listed above. We spent more than 3 hours on the way. More than 3 hours. The journey was made even more torturous by the thought of the unknown. I didn’t want to live in a hut! (although, seeing the inside of a hut would be cool). I didn’t want to live in a place surrounded by bushes where I would most likely see a snake! I was prepared to hate my school and was already thinking of ways to get reposted to Oju (the location of that radio station), or at least somewhere in Makurdi (where I knew someone).
. . . Some Mood Boosters
When we got to the NYSC secretariat (we were accompanied by our Local Government Inspector), the welcome was actually really really cool. We were welcomed by members of NCCF, and I kept hearing ‘uraba’. I later found out it means ‘welcome’ in Igede (the major language spoken in Obi LGA). I really felt welcome, and even smiled a bit. The LGI addressed us and told us to come back to the secretariat at 8 am the next day for documentation. The NCCF members helped us with our luggage; conveyed in a wheelbarrow and by hand, and we began our journey to the NCCF corper’s lodge. I was glad the environment was not bushy. They actually had tarred roads and (get this), a ROUNDABOUT fully ‘furnished’ with a statue! LOL. I was actually surprised to see one (shallow). I saw actual shops, houses made with cement… my imagination had been on overdrive.
Well, my relief was short-lived, as the ‘interior’ was surrounded by (you guessed it) BUSHES! The horror. Okay, so, thinking about it now, it’s really not that bad. If you stay in Lagos, imagine how developing areas in Ikorodu look. Obi is basically the same, except for the flashy houses. Anyway, the NCCF lodge made me feel just as welcome as the people who lived there. We were shown our rooms and provided with water to take our baths. After settling down, we were given food to eat. Okay, things were getting better.
. . . WELLLL
Fast-forward to the next day. We had to wake up at 6 am. My sour mood came back, plus, I was still exhausted. I really really wanted to leave. However, some thoughts of ‘maybe I should stay’ started dropping into my head. We headed to the secretariat at past 8 for the documentation. I remember being told both at camp and by well-meaning corps members not to allow my principal to sign without confirming every single detail of my employment. We were assured by the LGI that some of our principals would come to the secretariat to convey us to our schools. I was relieved by this. Soooo, my principal arrived with an okada (a motorcycle). Yes. Basically, every family in Obi owns a motorcycle and a wheelbarrow. It is also the major means of short distance transportation. This is actually cool. I didn’t think so then, though. I simply didn’t expect it (well).
To cut this looonnggg story for the gods short, I got exactly what I wanted; a surprise, and I sincerely absolutely hated it. I stayed in the NCCF lodge for about five more days. I spent the first day being angry and sad and calling people to get me out. On the second day, I started enjoying myself and even played some board games… I was still calling people, though. On the third or fourth day, I had a phone call with a friend of mine (bless him for listening), and I was able to speak on the list of reasons I decided to stay in Benue at all (another story). That made me realise that I simply had to stay put in Obi. One problem was that I had already pushed certain buttons, I couldn’t just ‘unpush’. So, I was faced with the challenge of reversing the major decisions I made regarding going out of Obi. I am not some crazy impulsive chit (or maybe I am), but, sometimes, I could get so overly emotional that I forget my perfectly logical reasons for certain decisions made by me. In other words, I tend to overreact (I’m perfectly human. Don’t you judge me).
. . . Signing out
Anywayyyyyyyy, I left Obi for Lagos about two weeks ago. I would be going back real soon, and I am excited about what Obi hold for me. Yea, and I don’t have a confirmed PPA yet. *shrugs.
Thank you for ACTUALLY reading this. If you skipped straight to the end, thank you. If you didn’t read at all, thank you.
Olamide.
For context, I only call me “Olamide” when I want to scold myself or be really serious in general. Don’t call me Olamide if you’ve ever called me Lami. As for this story, that’s how it goes! As I explained in #59, I ended up not going to Obi, but served in a city called Ibadan (the best place ever).
These are 500 words (or more ?)! Talk to you tomorrow!