Guess who’s going to be done with NYSC in a couple of days?
You guessed right! woohoo! In your face COVID-19, and your attempts at a
threatened extension of the service year.
While I’m happy that this phase of my life is about coming
to an end (cos’ let’s face it, I’m tired mehn) despite the drastic change in
normal life as we know it due to the pandemic, with programmes and events being
halted or postponed till further notice in an attempt to curb community spread
of the virus, I’m also filled with a lot of angst and anxiety as to what’s next
from here; Because while the pandemic didn’t halt my POP, it did bring to a
pause all other plans I had for after NYSC which had already been set in
motion.
The perfectionist in me with borderline OCD and “control freak” tendencies does not do
too well with uncertainty and lack of carefully laid out plans, cos’ you see, I
like things going according to plan and by plan, I mean, how I have it all
thought out in my head. You can imagine that the compulsory “sit at home” has
been giving me a run for my OCD.
But every now and then, something, someone or even a series
of events will remind me how vain my struggle for complete control is cos’ let’s
face it, are we ever truly in full control?
While I don’t pride myself in being an overly religious
person, I’d like to believe that I have some sort of personal relationship with
the “Big
Man up there”.
So as I come to the end of my NYSC year, thankful that it’s
over while also anxious as to what’s next from here onwards, with all that’s
currently going on, I’m taken on a trip down memory lane, to the beginning of
NYSC year, at a time when I was in this same uncomfortable space, with the
crippling fear that comes with uncertainty hovering over me and how the “ Big
Man up there” showed me for the one millionth time that stressing and
always trying to be in control never helped we mere mortals.
When I arrived Abuja, after having relocated from Ekiti (I did
3 weeks of camp in Ekiti state), I felt I had everything figured out, with the
help of my parents of course. If you’ve already completed your service year,
then you might understand some of the struggles associated with getting a
decent PPA (primary place of assignment). But like I said, I already had it all
figured out. I had a place of interest in mind and had gotten my parents to
pull every string they could just to get me assigned to that particular
institution. Before I even arrived Abuja, our contacts there had assured us
that all the necessary protocols had been taken care of and I was good to go as
soon as I arrived. You can imagine my excitement—new city, new job, new work
environment, reasonable pay, for NYSC anyway (I always say, corpers are used as
cheap labour everywhere); but on arriving Abuja, things weren’t the way I expected.
It was taking weeks to get my papers processed so I could
actually start working, and a lot of bullocks about “how I had to wait for so so and so to sign this or sign that”.
Still day after day, I saw other corpers resuming work, some whom I’m sure had
applied much later than I did.
In summary, I was
being thrown the “come today, come tomorrow” line for almost a whole month,
despite my parents and even some extended relatives pulling every contact they
knew that could help. Eventually, I got fed up and decided to go look for work
elsewhere cos’ weeks were running by, I was running low on funds (blame it on
UBER) with no job, and very far away from home.
Everyday I’d head out with a list of hospitals and other institutions
alike that hired corpers during their service year, and I kept working through
those lists day after day, coming back to my aunt’s place at the end of the day
with a little more “sorry, we’re no
longer hiring people” than I did the previous day.
Now, when I initially heard about the hospital I ended up
working with (that’s my current PPA), and asked other colleagues and friends about
the place, all everyone had to say was how I’d need some “major connect” to get a
job there, it being ranked as one of the major hospitals patronized by the high
and mighty of the society. Everyone had the same thing to say, except one of my dear friends, Vina, who
told me to ignore all of the crap talk and just give it a shot. She was right
you know?, cos’ I thought to myself, if I couldn’t land a job with my first
choice PPA, with all the strings and contacts my family tried to pull, then I guess
there’s no harm in trying with these other guys, I mean, I’ve pretty much got
nothing to lose.
So, I took my chances, went there and submitted my
application. Of course they said they weren’t looking to hire anymore corpers
but assured me that they’d call if anything turned up.
I continued my job hunt for about another week after that,
till that fateful day when I gave up.
I think it was the National Defense Headquarters I went to
and I legit entered all the offices of the different divisions—Navy, Air force,
Army, Defense, etc. One by one, they declined my application with an apology as
to how they were already at full capacity.
As I left that complex that day, I made up my mind that I’d
return home to Enugu and just scrap the service year entirely. I walked out of
that place, heavy tears rolling down my face, in the silly khaki uniform and
white sneakers which just made the hot weather so much more unbearable for me. I
was crying so much and walking on the road trying to find directions back to my aunt’s place. At some point, I remembered I had a pair of pams
in my bag, so I brought them out, angrily took off the uncomfortable sneakers,
and put on the pams. (Ps: if you know you saw any dark female on NYSC uniform
and pams, crying profusely and walking along that road opposite National Defense
Headquarters in Abuja on a very hot afternoon, sometime in August 2019, that was
me y’all—your unofficial cry baby).
All that kept running through my mind as I staggered down
that road, trying to find my way home, barely able to see clearly through the
tears that filled my eyes, was how I’d stubbornly fought my parents on the
issue of moving to Abuja for the service year and how I needed the change of
environment for a bit, because you see my parents baa? Had it been up to them, I’d
have done my service in Enugu, right out of my mother’s kitchen; and also all
the stress I’d put them through, with trying to get me relocated from Ekiti to
Abuja, and how it was all for nothing.
And it was in that moment, that I got the call.
To be continued…
xoxo!!!
Alma Rosenfield