EPISODE 3 Lumee was happily walking to his room to put his ‘escape from camp’ plans into motion when one of those his little friends from yesterday ran to him. “Brother good morning. Fetch water?”, the boy said, pointing to the bucket in his hand. Lumee quickly handed him the bucket “yes please”. He began to think of the small boy as a pixie or something. He always appeared when he needed help urgently. Even if he was leaving this camp, he had to take his bath, didn’t he? Lumee got to his room and saw that someone had dropped his luggage and a matress on the bunk beside his. Oh well, the room was designed for four people and they were all meant to share, at least till he got out of this hell hole. Just then his belly rumbled and he rummaged in his bag for some biscuit and juice. A few minutes later, his ‘room mate’ entered the room. The boy had probably not gone halfway with his registration because he was still dressed in mufti, which meant he had not yet gotten his camp kit. Lumee gave him a quick once over; the boy had expensive designer stuff on, from his wristwatch, to his belt, to his shoes. Lumee knew from experience that the boy was obviously from money, just like him. Now while he wasn’t overly proud, he wasn’t sorry that he was from an extremely wealthy home, and he didn’t hesitate to use the money and the family influence to get what he wanted, and when he wanted it. Hell, he didn’t know if he could survive if he hadn’t been born into money, what he knew was that he had money, lots of it, and he wasn’t going to apologise for it. The new comer said hi and introduced himself to Lumee as Temitope, five minutes later when he explained how he was going to go about the rest of his registration, Lumee decided that he rather liked Temitope. He reminded him of sanity and civilisation, Temitope spoke cultured English just like him, they probably had a lot in common. “So Temitope”, Lumee started in a conspirational tone “I bet you also never planned to find yourself in Kaduna, yeah?”. Temitope’s answer was shocking! “Actually no. But I was also prepared for Kaduna. I mean, my ma, she’s so fussy! She wanted me to spend my service year in Lagos, right under her nose. But I refused, and my refusal led to a big quarrel between us. I’ve always had, and enjoyed privileges, and I’m grateful for them. But this time around, I want to pretend to be an average Nigerian child who doesn’t have influential parents. They’d go wherever they’re posted to, right? I just wanted to have a feel of it, all my 23 years, I’ve never really been on my own or faced any challenge down on my own, my family always steps in. This time, I just wanted to leave it in Fate’s hands” Temitope finished with a laugh. Lumee was dumbfounded! Here was someone whose parents wanted to willingly runz his NYSC posting, and he turned it down! Temitope was the exact opposite of his own story. The dude was so confident about his choice, he was actually ready to take a chance and live the Nigerian dream (if there was any such thing). Lumee glanced at the phone he had brought out of his waist bag to call Aunt Bee, then he glanced back at Temitope. He couldn’t tell the chap that he’d been planning to run away like a chicken and boycott NYSC camp, he felt somehow…ashamed. He and the boy were from privileged homes, yet here Temitope was, daring to take risks instead of hiding in his mother’s skirts. Actually, what Temitope said made a whole lot of sense, the three weeks they were going to spend on camp was not even hardship when compared to other less fortunate Nigerian’s daily lives. His old man and this young boy held similar views on this NYSC thing, only that he had been more preoccupied with disagreeing with his pa, than trying to see the sense in what the man was saying. All he wanted was to have his own way, and even the compromise his dad made was still not enough for him. Lumee heaved a sigh and put his phone away. Maybe, just maybe, he could do this. If Temitope could, why couldn’t he? Thank God they were room mates, at least he’d have a ‘cool kid’ as friend. Who knows, they could actually end up enjoying the three weeks orientation excercise and rock the foundations of Kaduna camp. You never know if you never try. So for now, he was willing to try. His pixie showed up with his bucketful of water. “Name? Wetin be your name”, Lumee asked him in what he thought was pidgin English. “Abu”, the boy replied, grinning from ear to ear. The child was dressed in clean rags, his T-shirt had seen better years and had holes big enough to serve as a mail slot. His shorts were equally worn, while his pair of slippers were already as flat as a pancake. Lumee shook his head, he didn’t understand how this boy could be so happy, how did he cope? He paid him N200 and asked him to come back later. If he thought Abu was grinning before, he was wrong. Now the boy smiled so widely that Lumee feared his mouth was going to tear in two, the boy scampered away, hopping from foot to foot. Lumee carried his water and made for the bathroom while Temitope went to complete his registration with the promise of them hooking up later in the day. They exchanged phone numbers and blackberry pins so as to keep track of each other. Back at the entrance of the bathroom for the second time that day, Lumee didn’t turn tail and run this time, the braced himself and stepped in. The filth was unbearable but he chose a ‘clean’ spot and hurridely took his bath, there was no point dallying anyway. Bathed, smelling and feeling clean, Lumee changed into a pair of white T-shirt and shorts – the NYSC uniform for camp and a pair of white canvas shoes. The time was just 12 noon and he had nothing to do, he also had no friends, he decided to take a nap while he waited for Temitope. This time when he was roused awake, it wasn’t by those baboons called soldiers, it was Temitope who shook him awake gentle. “Sup man? I’m done with my registration. I’m tiiiiiiired!” “Sorry”, Lumee mumbled sleepily. “I think I’m hungry now even. What’s the time?”. Neither of them had explored the camp yet, but there were little signposts here and there pointing to different places. They decided to visit the infamous mammy market that was said to be the location for ‘happening’ things on campus. The mammy market was like a little village; small shops and stalls were scattered in organised chaos. The restaurants were on one side, barbing and beauty salons on another row, while those who sold other random stuff in stalls were littered along. One restaurant’s sign read MAMA NGOZI FOOD CANTIN. Brakefast: bread and egg, yam, porage etc. Launch: rice, pounded yam, semo etc with different assaulted stew. Supper: garri, rice, akpu etc. Lumee laughed till his sides ached “Temitope I would never eat here. Ever. I’m sure I’d die of diarrhoea if I try it”.Finally they found one SWEET TASTERESTAURANT, while he wouldn’t give them an award in hygiene, the place looked clean enough. Temitope ordered rice and chicken, while Lumee decided to try eba and the oha soup that his igbo friends usually praised to the high heavens. They dug into their meals with relish and Lumee suddenly understood why they praised the almighty oha soup so, it was really delicious. Just as he started to take a juicy bite of his chicken, he heard the shrill sound of the whistle and other corp members started scampering away. He looked at his watch and saw that it was 4p.m- time for afternoon drills, Lumee looked back at his piece of chicken and shook his head. These three weeks were going to be tough.
Posted on: Fri, 03 Oct 2014 11:14:59 +0000
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