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

    “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.

  • Yoruba Men Are My Kryptonite

    Yoruba Men Are My Kryptonite

    Dating a Yoruba man is something most people do to build character. Some consider this extreme sport as a cry for help and a means of inflicting self-harm. From the Tundes to the Femis, Yoruba men will leave you wishing you chose a life of celibacy. Today, I spoke to a 25-year-old lady who has been in 6 awful relationships, dated only Yoruba men and considers them her Kryptonite.

    Man No. 1

    I was 16 years old when I started dating guy number 1. He was twice as old as me if not older and kept pressuring me to have sex with him. This man was already talking about getting married and settling down with me but the whole thing was just off. I had just graduated from secondary school and now that I think of it, he was definitely a predator. I turned him down every time he asked for sex and broke things off when I found out he was 2 years older than my stepmother. We only dated for 6 months.

    Man No. 2

    When I realised that man number 1 was weird, I ghosted. I started talking a certain neighbour of mine who lived in the next street. He was 7 years older than I was, a med student as at the time and the first man I ever slept with. We dated for a while but it was on and off before we drifted apart. In the second year, we were only seeing each other once a year and things only got worse after I left my city to another state for schooling. 

    Man No. 3

    Shortly after I moved to a new state, guy number 2 stopped talking to me. We were still in a relationship but not really. I met guy number 3, he was such a lovely man. We started talking and one thing led to another and we had sex. Problem is, I got pregnant. I had just turned 18 and I wasn’t ready to be a mother. Deep down, I knew my life was going to be over if I kept the baby so I had an abortion. I didn’t tell anyone until after.

    Man No. 4

     This was my serious relationship. I met guy number 4 in my school. He was a lecturer for one of the general courses. This was one of the youngest I’ve dated as he was just 2 years older than me. He was fresh out of NYSC and this was his first job. I found him intriguing. We didn’t do anything until he left school, after which, we started dating.

    Our sex was phenomenal, he is the best sex I’ve ever had till date. However, the downside to him was that he was very manipulative, hot-tempered and he physically abused me. In the course of the relationship, he hit me about 4 times. 

    The first time he hit me, we had a fight and he beat me up. Omo, I left his house. This guy came to my house begging and crying. Also, he was fond of randomly breaking up with me every time we had a disagreement. I would want to talk thing out but he would act like his mind was made up.

    One time, I travelled to see my dad and he broke up with me. I took the next bus to Lagos to see him. I got to Lagos in the night and this guy left me outside his house until 3:00 am. That night we fought and he beat me up, I decided to just break things off. This was actually the second instance he hit me. 

    The fourth and last time he hit me, I smashed everything in his house. 

    My sisters were the only ones who knew he was abusive and they made sure I cut him off entirely. I was a little reluctant cause this was my first serious relationship and my family knew him and I loved him so much. In the end, I knew it wasn’t worth risking my life for. By the time he came begging again, I had already moved on from him. I was 21- 23 years old when I dated him.

    Man No. 5 

    I met guy number 5 during my NYSC days. It was just 2 months after breaking things off with guy number 4. Funny enough, I don’t think he was a rebound. He came into my life when I needed someone. I didn’t think I was going to find love after guy number 4. 

    The relationship was very blissful but I grew suspicious of him. My instincts felt a bit off about him. I asked if he was in a relationship and he told me he just broke up with his girlfriend. My suspicion grew whenever I was at his place because he would enter one of the rooms and be making calls. It felt like he was always hiding. 

    He didn’t let me follow him on social media so I decided to create an Instagram burner account to stalk him. That was how I found out he had a serious girlfriend. I met him in June. In July, he had his wedding introduction. It was on a Saturday, that Monday, he was with me. I didn’t even do all this research until December. 

    When I confronted him, he told me he didn’t lie to me, he just withheld information. 

    In January he told me he was getting married. By April, he got married. When I wanted to leave but he started weeping and begging and I really loved him. I don’t think I’ve loved anyone as much as I’ve loved this man. I agreed to stay with him. Four-month after he got married, we were still dating, it became exhausting so I ended things.  

    I still follow him and his wife on my burner to date.

    Man No. 6

    I met guy number 6 when he was a corper with me in NYSC. We hit things off and started dating. Thing is, guy number 5 came into the picture again and I couldn’t resist him so we started hanging out and having sex again. I have ended things with him for good. However, guy number 6 is non-commital to our relationship and it’s just off-putting. We live 20 minutes away from each other but since the lockdown, we’ve only seen each other 4 times. I plan on breaking up with him this week. 

    Recommended: Important Things You Should Know Before Dating Yoruba Men

  • How Many Of These People Did You Meet In NYSC Camp?

    You’ll never be exposed to a crowd of people as diverse as those you’ll meet in NYSC camp. Although the living conditions are appalling these people almost make the whole experience worth it.

    There are the ones who just came back from the overseas and will start stressing everybody with ‘that’s not how we did thing in the States’ and accent.

    Even the ones who went to Cotonou will have British accent.

    There are the ones who were only interested in getting exeat so that they could go home.

    They didn’t come to suffer with you commoners.

    The ones who just came to drink their destinies away at mammy market.

    But on a serious note, they might have actually needed professional help.

    Then there were the ones who belonged to the school of hard knacks and only came to have as much sex as they could.

    It’s just three weeks, it’s that how the konji is doing you?

    The ITKs that were always volunteering for everything.

    They didn’t rest until they became platoon leader.

    The ‘do you know who my father is’ people?

    If you don’t geddifok out of here.

    The ones who were somehow so excited to be in camp.

    Have you seen the toilets? What’s making you happy?

    We can’t leave out all those promise and fail soldiers.

    The ones that’ll tell you don’t worry if you march well you’ll get posted to the capital and you ended up getting posted to a village without light.

    The ones who were only there for the food.

    All the food sellers at mammy market knew them.

    The ones you are pretty sure were old enough to have been in the first ever batch of NYSC.

    They might have even been your father’s age mate.

    The ones whose life mission was to never step foot on the parade ground.

    They did whatever it took and were always in the clinic.

    There was the friendly soldier everyone liked.

    They didn’t have any wahala.

    And the one who was only interested in making people miserable.

    But who offended you?

    The ones who came to camp to find love.

    And they found it o.

    The ones who secured their exeat with doctor’s report as soon as they stepped foot into the camp.

    Only you asthma, cancer, bronchitis and HIV. Take your wahala and go.

    So who did we leave out and which one were you?

  • 14 Pictures Of Corpers That Are Too Happy To Be Done With NYSC

    14 Pictures Of Corpers That Are Too Happy To Be Done With NYSC

    1. This babe that sharply went to bake cake.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BLN8DgPD4HJ/?tagged=naijacorpers

    2. This guy’s transitioning is with immediate effect.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BLOBN9pAVrc/?tagged=naijacorpers

    3. This girl can’t believe it’s finally over!

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BLOGtwNAgmD/?tagged=naijacorpers

    4. From one president to another.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BLOFHBIB2um/?tagged=naijacorpers

    5. Her eyebrows say it all.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BLOIKnQA_-K/?tagged=naijacorpers

    6. Join us in clearing the road for them.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BLN4BPxBExl/?tagged=naijacorpers

    7. This lady’s joy is about to fly out of the picture.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BLN2uZ5A-Dd/?tagged=naijacorpers

    8. Say cheese!

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BLN4Foch6sc/?tagged=naijacorpers

    9. 3 Gbosa for her makeup game!

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BLN57YKBehR/?tagged=naijacorpers

    10. With love from Nasarawa State.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BLN_vo_jE0m/?tagged=naijacorpers

    11. You only ‘POP’ once.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BLN2q4hBg70/?tagged=naijacorpers

    12. One corper, two certificates.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BLN1QSeBjAu/?tagged=naijacorpers

    13. Her joy is very full.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BLOIQgdAmva/?tagged=naijacorpers

    14. A year of multiple blessings.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BLOUWOVhX2j/?tagged=naijacorpers
  • A Masquerade Flogged A Youth Corper in Kogi and He’s Really Vexed

    A Masquerade Flogged A Youth Corper in Kogi and He’s Really Vexed

    We’ve all had an encounter with those whip-wielding-masquerades in Lagos with all their wahala!

    But the masquerades in Kogi don’t play at all. This corper that was jejely going to the market got flogged by one of them.

    People just kept telling the guy sorry.

    Instead of running away, the corper was forming big boy.

    Because he thought masquerades only chase women.

    To double the wahala, the masquerade couldn’t even speak English…

    And couldn’t even say simple sorry.

    Now he has packed his load and even wants to sue them.

    Eh ya! We know we should sympathize with him, but this story got us like:

    Next time you see a masquerade, abeg carry your slippers.

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