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Allawee | Zikoko!
  • Ways You Can Use Your Allawee In Agbado Era

    Although ₦33k could do a lot more in 2022 than it can do now, the NYSC allowance still remains ₦33k. Considering different plans or situations, we advise these wise ways to spend your allawee in the year of balablu.

    Blow it on food

    Feed your stomach. Even if you perish, you won’t be the first. Or do you really need us to remind you that food is king?

    Spend on your boo

    You have no business singing songs like Ego Oyibo by Chike, Spending by Johnny Drille or Olamide’s Jinja if your babe doesn’t eat from your money. A lover that’ll blow salary on their babe, it’s from their allawee  will find out. This isn’t an option for the singles, but your crushes aren’t exempt.

    Keep some for detty December

    No matter how stifling the agbado plantation gets, there will always be a way and time for some end-of-the-year enjoyment. There’s life, why won’t you chop it?

    Do community project

    You don’t have to wait until God touches your heart before you decide to build a school or dig a borehole for the place hosting you. See it as a way of immortalising yourself.

    Get your travelling visa

    You’re already tired of Naija and you’re only doing NYSC so daddy and mummy can let you rest. Our advice? Save the money Nigeria’s giving you to get out of Nigeria.

    Save till service ends

    God that created children has provided what children will eat and drink. ₦396,000 (minus the ₦2k state government pays) isn’t small cash to sponsor your wishlist. Just keep your account fixed till the end of your service year. Travel, club, invest, dash, donate.. do whatever you like, my G.

  • “My Life Ended When I started NYSC” — A Week In The Life Of A Tired Youth Corps Member

    A Week In The Life” is a weekly Zikoko series that explores the working-class struggles of Nigerians. It captures the very spirit of what it means to hustle in Nigeria and puts you in the shoes of the subject for a week.


    The subject of today’s “A Week In The Life” is a youth corps member currently without a place of primary assignment. She talks about the bleakness of her days, being frustrated by the NYSC scheme and the ways she sparks joy in her life.

    NYSC

    MONDAY:

    I feel like my life ended when I started NYSC. First of all, I didn’t get mobilised with my mates because my university was playing with my certificate.  I had to wait for the second stream. 

    When my posting came out, I ended up being posted to the north. As if that wasn’t bad enough, my redeployment to Lagos failed. After camp, I spent two months in a totally different state with no housing or family members. When I finally redeployed to Lagos, no PPA. And thus began the next two months of my life hanging in limbo doing nothing, waiting in uncertainty and listening to NYSC officials say the infamous, “just keep checking your NYSC dashboard for your new posting.” 

    The first thing I do when I wake up this morning is to open my NYSC dashboard to check my PPA portal. I’m met with the familiar disappointment of a blank page, so I log out. 

    It has been five months from mobilisation to redeployment, and I’ve not done anything significant. But that’s not the most annoying part. The worst part is that other people wake up with a clear idea of how their day will go and then there’s me who just, well… wakes up.  A large part of my day involves figuring out how to occupy myself until everyone returns from work at 4:00 p.m.

    Sometimes, I sleep or read a book, or just stare out into space. Nobody tells you how slow time moves when you have nothing planned for the day. 

    Another thing that frustrates me about the uncertainty of my situation is that I can’t get a side job. Every company I’ve interviewed with wants some measure of commitment, but I’m scared of taking a job, getting a PPA the next day and having to deal with clashing schedules. So I find myself declining jobs and waiting for NYSC to sort me.

    Today is gearing up to be a long-ass day. I can’t believe it’s just 10 a.m. My initial plan was to scroll mindlessly through social media, but everyone online looks like they have their life together — and that’s just going to make me feel bad. 

    I can’t do NYSC, can’t do a side job, can’t scroll through Instagram. All I can do is wait for 4 p.m.

    TUESDAY:

    I find it ironic that I had more fun outside Lagos than I’m having in Lagos. Although NYSC chopped my eye for redeployment on the last day; I still had a swell time in the north. The camp was fun and I got to meet interesting people.

    Now, my life is far from fun. My days are monotonous, and they repeat themselves. The only reason I remember that today is Tuesday is that I’m receiving a delivery for my sister whom I live with. Another aspect of not having a job is that I’m the designated “always-at-home-to-receive-a-package-person.” Sometimes, I feel like I’m part of the house and will soon merge with the furniture or the house itself.

    By mid-afternoon today, tired of sleeping, I call my contact at the NYSC office for an update and he goes, “Why are you complaining? Are you not just sleeping and waking up?”

    I’m speechless. 

    In terms of how great my life could have gone, things haven’t gone according to my plan. I’m not only humble, but I believe that I’m now a cautionary tale. People are now like “If NYSC posts you outside Lagos, don’t redeploy. *Yinka redeployed and now look at her life.”

    At this point, I don’t mind working for free; as long as I can just start working. 

    Wait, I mind working for free. Lagos is too expensive for that behaviour pls. 

    WEDNESDAY:

    En route to the Secretariat for monthly clearance today, one policeman shouted “corper wee” at me. I felt like coming down from my bike to punch his silly mouth because who is smiling with him. 

    This NYSC period has been full of only stress and frustration for my life. If not that allawee is tied to monthly clearance and monthly clearance is tied to wearing the NYSC uniform, where will people see me to be shouting “corper wee”.

    In all honesty, even the ₦33,000 allawee is not enough to survive on. Before NYSC, I used to comfortably buy Chicken Republic Refuel Max, but now, my motto is that there is rice at home. I can’t believe part of the reason I left the north was because they didn’t have Refuel Max, and now, I can’t afford to buy it in Lagos. 

    Today, I find myself very grateful for my benefactor aka my older sister. If not for her financial support, I’d probably have died of starvation. As a way of extending my stay in the house, I make up for my lack of earnings by doing domestic work.  

    I clean, cook and do everything in between. 

    If my sister asks me to run an errand, I do it with no questions asked. How can I protest when a carton of Indomie is now ₦3800? 

    Once I remove money for data, transport money from running around to sort NYSC runs, there’s almost nothing left to spend from the allawee. 

    My mentality now is that if any activity is going to remove from my ₦33,000, I’m not doing it. I’m going to politely decline, stay home, eat rice and do the dishes after. 

    THURSDAY:

    I wake up with this bout of sadness and an impending sense of gloom. I don’t want to talk to anyone around me; at least, not for a few hours. 

    I feel like the last five months has made NYSC a core part of my identity, and I’ve given it more power than I’d like. It has become an integral part of my conversations with people. 

    Friend 1: “How far your PPA?”

    Friend 2: “Can’t you do the NYSC without PPA?”

    Family and friends: “Why is this happening to you?”

    Me: “I don’t know…”

    I miss the old me. The fun me. I remember enjoying things like musical concerts, book shopping and watching plays. I’ve allowed life and NYSC take those away from me. But I can’t continue like this. 

    Today’s operation is to spark joy in my life. I’ll kick off the day by watching season 2 of the series, Ted Lasso. Then, I’ll listen to the Hamilton soundtrack and scream along when they say “how do we emerge victorious from the quagmire”. After that, the soundtrack is over. 

    By then, the day would be perfect for taking both Zikoko quizzes of the day. Finally, I’ll end the day by listening to Zikoko’s Love Life and that one will spark endorphins that’ll carry me for at least 30 seconds. 

    Less worrying and more enjoying. 

    FRIDAY: 

    If there’s any lesson from this period, I’m struggling to see it. But today is not the time for plenty of questions. I’m packing a bag to one of my friends’ houses where I can binge TV and let someone else worry about feeding me. 

    I could do with the company and distraction.

    When my NYSC service is over, I’ll throw a party. Then I’ll tear my uniform. After, I’ll frame and hang my NYSC certificate because I’ve suffered for it. 

    I lied when I said I didn’t have any lesson from this experience. I do, and it’s that life doesn’t always go as planned. If you had given me a thousand guesses, I don’t think I’d have guessed that five months into NYSC I’d still be struggling to be posted.  In my head, I thought that I’d be saving money from PPA [the subject has paying PPA options] alongside my allawee for jaapa. Then I’d also use the opportunity to build up hours for my minimum work experience. 

    All my planning is in the mud. 

    My prayer now is that when I wake up on Monday morning my PPA has changed.  God pls. 


    Editor’s note: The subject in no way seeks to tarnish the image of the NYSC scheme. She simply wishes to share her experience of/with the scheme. 

    Check back every Tuesday by 9 am for more “A Week In The Life ” goodness, and if you would like to be featured or you know anyone who fits the profile, fill this form.

  • NYSC Diary Day 18: You Learn To Value Freedom In Camp

    Everyday by 12pm for the next 21 days, I’ll be telling you what life is like at NYSC Camp. I was posted to Borno State, but the camp holds in Katsina state due to Boko Haram insurgency in Borno. You can read all the stories in the series here.

    7:15 AM

    Today is my last Friday in this camp. Waking up, it is no different from the other Fridays I have spent here. But it feels different, and when the soldiers come banging at the door, my friend F. says that very soon, all this gra-gra will end. I can’t wait for it to be over. I really can’t. At this point, the soldiers do the most. Being forced to come and parade in the evening, forced to social nights, forced out of the rooms. This morning, they have added a new strategy to chasing us out: they pour water in the room. Sometimes I think that this camp feels like prison with a tiny slice of liberty. Each time I think thoughts like this, I understand the importance of freedom, of owning your time and doing with it whatever you want, the importance of dressing up in what you like, eating what you desire, going where you desire.

    NYSC camp is the place where you learn to value your freedom.

    10:15 AM

    Because it is the last Friday, we close the SAED skill acquisition program and do an exhibition of the things we have made in our various classes. The people at plumbing exhibit a shower with running water; those at makeup do a live face beat of a model; event planning/management exhibit a couple’s spot in wedding; agro-allied, a hen and some eggs in a crate. Those in tailoring exhibit a long gown, short gown, a kimono, and a dashiki. In leather works, they exhibit bags and slippers that I consider beautiful. My SAED class, Food Processing, exhibits cookies, cakes, salad cream, punctured and non-punctured doughnuts, glazed doughnuts, cup cakes. We also exhibit some tools of the trade: cookie cutters, measuring spoons, etc. I assist in decorating the cup cakes, putting sprinklers atop them, and fetching water to clean the utensils. After the exhibition, I leave for the OBS studio, exhausted.

    2:30PM

    Lunch is rice and beans. It is delicious, I must admit, but the fish is small and it is fried so deep it has become tasteless. I am about to finish the meal when I hear that they have started paying allowee. That excitement!

    I finish up, clean my plate, keep it and dash to the Accounts Section. A crowd is there already: Nigerians, we too like money! The allawee is N19,800, forget that talk of it being increased to N31,800. To get it, you need to present your NYSC ID card. It is unlike the transport allowance of N1,800 which you need to present your meal ticket for. The Bicycle Allowance is N1,400. In total, you get N23,000 in cash from NYSC at the end of your 3 weeks in camp. I have collected my transport allowance. And it’s not even enough for transport anyway. I spent nothing less than N10,000 from Lagos to Katsina, so N1,800 is like a drop out of an ocean. I am yet to get my N1,400. Each time I go, I am told a new story—”Come back, come back, you keep coming at the wrong time.”

    As soon as I get my allawee, I pocket it and find my way out of there. It’s just like someone said, “Some people go leave this camp with three allawee, you go see.” 

    E no go be my own allawee, biko.

    4:27PM

    The cycle continues: we are forced to the parade ground where we sit on the floor while the soldiers ferrett out those who are hiding from parade and marching. When they are done with their witch hunt, they let us go, but even then we don’t have freedom. We head to the football field or perch by the roadside or sit under the pavilion. We cannot go back to the hostel, we cannot go to Mammy Market, not even to get water. 

    I am tempted to complain, but then I remember that there was one time I prayed to God to help me go to NYSC, help me wear the white white and the khaki. Now that this prayer has been answered, why complain over what I specifically requested for?

    1:20 AM

    Yes o, 1:20 AM in the midnight. This is the time I head back to the hostel to sleep. We just finished with the Miss Camp/NYSC and Mr. Macho competition where my platoon came third for Miss NYSC. Look, I am not siding my platoon or anything now, but the judging was not fair. Not fair at all. Anyway, God in heaven sees us, and I know that we will be vindicated, because I know that you don’t believe me.

    But see ehn, guys do the most. To be fine boy no be by chest alone o. You must get something for upstairs.

    After all the groundnut oil that the Mr. Macho contestants rubbed on their body, to answer questions became a war. One guy was asked to name the president of the United States and mans couldn’t. Another was asked to sing the NYSC anthem, and he took it from 0 to 1,000 in a second. But the one wey pain me pass na this guy. He was asked to list two countries bordering Borno state. Guess what he said?

    China, South Africa.

    This, ladies and gentlemen, was how everything burst.