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Passing Out Palava (Pt. 1)



After arguing and fighting with people for many years now, I can proudly say, and without regret that I love to sleep. The rigorous and unorganized schedule of camp didn't change that. It didn't matter to me if I had to skip parade - skipping parade sounds rather permissive, the right word being "duck" parade. I strategically hung my mosquito net and covered myself in my blanket in a way that my roommates had a hard time telling if I was on my bed, except of course for my bunkie who always complained of how much I shook the bunk, which I blamed on the age of the bunk, when in fact it was an indices of how much I was enjoying my sleep - talk more of soldiers who came into rooms to chase us out.

On the last day in camp, my bunkie, thinking he was doing me a favour woke me up by 3am!

"3am?! Common! You should've given me an hour more"
 was my thought, but my consolation was "It is the last day".

 The day all the fears that lingered in my mind when I ditch parade for an extra sleep would end; the fear of the officer in-charge of meditation calling my number randomly on the parade ground to recap what the speaker had spoken about, the fear of missing the platoon attendance ( not that it was useful), and most of all, the fear of getting caught sleeping on my bed while everyone was out for parade by a soldier.

 Quickly, I got off the bed, had my bath and finished the packing I started the previous day.

 It was 3:30am, I rushed to return my mattress, only to be welcomed by a long queue of people with their mattresses.

"By 3:30? Ahn ahn! Una nor sleep?", were the words that rushed out of my mouth, but being a UNIBEN alumnus, I was behind the first two persons in no time.

Waiting for the official-in-charge of collecting the mattresses and giving clearance was the next delay. I finally got clearance by 6am, two plus hours of waiting and struggling, which caused a good tear on my trouser (You know how fake that Khaki is).

Subsequently, and without hesitation, I hurried to the tailor stand with hopes to meet someone that early who could sew my trouser. The number of tailors I met amazed me, seeing it was the last day of camp.

 Most people should have mended their clothes by now, while those that didn't, may have resolved to wear them like that, but here were a multitude of willing tailors. if I didn't know better, i'd say they bribed the official-in-charge of collecting the mattresses and giving clearance, to make the process a struggle contest so that as many corpers'  Khaki would tear.

After fixing my Khaki at a rather ridiculous amount, I proceeded to the parade ground.

The parade ground was more rowdy than I had ever observed, then it hit me "there were many others like me, people who wouldn't trade their sleeps for fruitless exercises on a cold morning, they were only here today to collect their posting letters". We waited several hours for the Governor's representative to come before we commenced the parade.

 The parade ended almost as soon as it begun and I was glad it did. It was now time for the real thing.


Frankly, there was never a time as hilarious as this in my three weeks in camp. You could see the trepidation with which people walked to the pavilion to collect their posting letters. The air wreaked of dread and anxiety.

As soon as the platoon officer started calling out numbers and giving posting letters, a girl and her friend burst into prayers almost immediately, more than half my platoon members joined - they either had their eyes closed, their heads bowed or their mouths mumbling words. I wondered if the last minute fire brigade incantations will change a letter that was already printe.

I didn't know when I laughed out loud, a rolling eyes from my platoon officer gave me the come-back-to-your-senses pull.

I finally heard my number. I collected and opened the letter, it was everything I didn't want plus more. I was going to teach in a village I couldn't as much as pronounce, the more to it was, I would be teaching a primary school! For f***'s sake! A primary school!

Lost in thought, I heard an outburst of wailings. A lady nearby, she had been posted to a village after buying wine for an official to work her posting to the city, assuming it's just wine she gave.

Laughter seized me again, at least I didn't buy 'wine' for somebody.

All these while, I the heat of the posting palaver, I almost forgot about my day 1 camp babe.

She and i had a good vibe and i was beginning to take her serious. I got my phone out and called her.

Damn! I was mad!
She was posted to the city, miles away from me.
This service year wey I wan find serious babe, na im these guys just cast for me!

Anyways, I have relatives in town, I could see her anytime I visit.
Love finds a way, or don't it?

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