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I am currently reading NSGs book and even though i am on page 15, I started getting some funny flashbacks… NSG IS Naija Single Girl and her book is called 29,single and Nigerian. Which is an hilarious book btw. The first chapter of the book is about NYSC which made me remember a post I wrote about my first day in NYSC camp at Akwa Ibom state Nigeria. I literally had to dig this out from the archives of my old blog. which is almost 10 years old!!!!

look at that date

WAIT!!!! 10 YEARS OLD!!!!!! Whaaaaaaatt!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

lol  yes I am shouting!!!! I have been writing and mostly stalking blogs for almost 10 years. My first blog was called BEWILDERED, my first post was published in February 2010 and if I remember correctly, I opened my blogger account in 2008 but just used it to comment on blogs.  I also had an active Tumblr before then… but Tumblr was just confusing…. it still is.  My blog was my diary!! of course I knew not to share everything about my life then but I’m glad i wrote what i wrote then. it was my outlet to complain about my lecturers and boring classes in my stuffy private uni. I also struggled a lot with depression and it was an outlet… just logging in would make me happy!!! Ofcourse I was anonymous. Every time I got a familiar looking comment on the blog, ill shut it down and migrate my posts to another blog. I DID NOT WANT TO BE FOUND OUT!!!!

sweet memories. lol.

One of the reasons I used to do this was because I was scared of getting popular.. I actually had a phobia for fame… another thing always happened, ill be writing consistently for a month or 3 and one of my posts will get a lot of attention and ill just freeze. This unexplainable writers block will set in and I wont be able to write again.. ill start to think, omg!! people will know me.. and maybe laugh at my stories in real life. In  part was a fear of failure: like I want to be able to beat that record and because I didn’t make the last post blow on purpose, I wont know what to do to make the next one blow too and Ill be stuck in an endless loop of comparism, unnecessary judgement and stupid panic. I still feel this anxiety till today. Can anyone relate?

This is one reason I like NSG.. she’s an anonymous blogger and she makes it work. I know eventually everyone has to come out of their shell in this digital connected world but I kinda like this shell.. There’s a pillow and a blanket in here. 🙂 . I remember when Linda referenced my piggybank post here, at first I was happy but one call from a friend and I nearly died. I called the piggybank guys to take it down immediately!!!! lol. I am so dramatic.. and quite glad they didn’t.

anyways, back to the main reason for this post..

Read about my first day in NYSC camp story from my first/second/third blog.. apologies if you have to read twice to get it. I tried to keep it as i wrote it with minor edits. I had that typing in short hand disease that everyone who had a blackberry in 2012 had. I also had no regard for spellings and punctuations.. but read and enjoy!!!!

oya grab ur popcorn nd try not to sleep.
ill try to summarize my 3 weeks of camp.
let me start with day 1… as my experiences will fill up a book.

my going to camp could not have come at the wrongest time, cos i had to write an exam which i wasn’t prepared for in December. and i was going to be in camp for the last 3 weeks in November.

well my camp was approx. 13 hrs from Lagos, so going by road wasn’t even an option for me.

big otondo like me decided to carry her books with her to the airport (bigs gals tins abi… just wait na)
big mistake.. my books alone weighed 10kg.. nd i was told to pay almost 10grand naira for extra luggage
(ehn kilon jebe?)

i sha patched patched d books with my hand luggage nd i started  carrying it up nd down d airport o.

then my bestfriend who was already there gave me d call of life..
“babe hope u are not carrying a big box o”
“nne y?”
“cos I’m in camp already nd u have to carry ur box on ur head b4 u can pass through d gate”
“O_O   OO”
“see this 1 o, u think say i dey joke? if u like ehn bring d whole Lagos come here… u re on your own o”

(end of conversation)

what did i just do to my self?
i looked from my bag (the hand luggage which i waz still struggling to carry), to the airport tent (where my heavy box was chilling, already checked in.) and i started pitying my self.
(who sent me message o)

lord y oh y did u make me so tiny nd all.

well i managed to get rid of d books 1 way or d other (dnt ask me how)
and some hours later i found myself in nsit-atai, a rural rural village in Akwaibom state Nigeria.

hmmmn. my friend wasn’t lying o.
the security man at d gate wasn’t smiling atall.
i begged, pleaded, almost even bribed him to let me go through d gate without carrying my box on my head.
oga no gree o.
infact he started chasing me away sef….

i knew babes were not smiling when i saw some Brazilian hair wearing babes with their boxes nd buckets on their heads.
apparently i was d only  who got didn’t get the memo. 🙁

1 man sha helped me tru d gate only sha.

now i was in.

if u had seen d queue for registration ehn. ……. lemmy not go into that, just not now.

then they started checking our luggage for contraband nd all… u should have seen d way d policewomen started laughing when they saw d amount of grub (provisions) i brought along…

now after u re searched for contraband items.. u go on to meet the military men, who will tell u to frog-jump, sing, dance and run with ur box STILL ON YOUR HEAD….
i mean… isn’t it a wicked world we live in?

the evil men started laughing and making jest of me when they looked at me nd my box.
in front of every1 o….
trust me u dnt want military men to make jest of u… it can pain.

God bless d angels that held those tears back for me.
i became the comic relief for the Corpers on d registration queue already.

it waznt funny o…
there was nothing i did not form, asthma, ulcer, death….  they didn’t let me go o.
i must have spent like 1 hour there for a 15 mins drill.

i sha trieed nd tried nd tried nd reached 1 stage sha … until 1 ishewu (Goat headed man) who wanted to start to chyke me now let me go.

*sigh* ill never forget that day…
i just registered in my mind  “I DON DIE”

I did part of my registration that day, hustled for a room, hustled for a bunkspace nd hustled for a mattress. i almost had to hustle for my life too.
oh nd by hustled i mean i fought tooth and nail (literally) with matured, beard growing, muscular Tarzan looking women who had leg yams the same size as my thighs.

(not all the babes in camp were like this o… b4 they find me and….. )

this was still day 1… no day 0….
trust me after all these… i still hadn’t seen anything.

well let me stop here for now.
i had so many experiences, i actually kept a diary. (i stopped filing in after like 10 days)
i saw the good, the bad and the ugly…
and as d spirit leads.. ill update u guys more….

but nysc camp was ok.. i met a lot of fantastic people…
and if u ask me….. (in omawumis voice)

i think theres something seriously wrong with our educational system cos a lot of people in camp could not speak correct English, some couldn’t even communicate well and d mentality of some people…..
trust me.. only d lord can have mercy nd save them and i totally say this with all seriousness.

im grateful to be back home to my family ,unstable electricity(cos I couldn’t call what we had in there electricity)  Lagos traffic, a w.c toilet, even the tiny ants under my bed now.
experiences like this make u grateful for little things we take for granted everyday.

until then enjoy peace, joy and afang soup.

oh oya take a look at ‘baby corper’ (i dnt know y people call me that everywhere i go in my uniform)

First days and Last Days of Camp.

I was called baby corper:

  • cos my bestie and I were the youngest in our camp..  Yes we checked. There’s this book of life you have to sign in there and you get to see how old everybody is. Who remembers filling that in.
  • I am obviously a baby girl..
  • people are just haters…

This over packing issue ehn.. No be today for me. I have a special ability to pack nonsense whenever I am travelling. I also lost my diary of NYSC experiences so I didn’t write anything again.

Lol.. I kid. This was a fun post for me. I remember writing it then and it still made me laugh today. I honestly love write even if its just my todo lists I write nowadays. I need a paper and biro with me every time but blogging has a special place. There’s something about posting what you write that’s just makes you feel awesome!!!

I honestly do not love blogging today as i did because of the analytics and all the work it takes to write, edit, publish and promote a post. I wish back  for the dairy style blogging again.. no schedules, no canva, no google analytics, no tainting your personal brand (lol as some of the things I wrote then could have gotten me kicked outta school and church but thank God for mercy.) But Change can be a good and bad thing, it just depends on you.

I have been roaming the blogosphere for 10 years and I haven’t built house in banana Island like linda but that’s fine. I don’t regret all the time and data spent. I noticed a lot of my blogger friends are overwhelmed and discouraged because of the way things are and I have also been but its fine.. everyone’s purpose is different even on here. Comparism is the thief of joy as I shared in my struggles with social media.

Pulling myself out before entering advisor mode, this is not my NYSC horror experience as I had worse experiences… this was just the story of day 1… but, my NYSC year was one of the best years of my life… and I know everybody who actually went through it has a horror story. who wants to share theirs in the comment section?

Hi, Im Yevandy.


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