Asaya camp was a beehive of activities when we arrived. The taxi we boarded drove us from the kabba bus stop down to camp. I and jane joined the box-carrying new corp members to head to the registration point to begin the registration.
The Orientation Broadcasting Service (OBS) was playing songs through the several public address system hanging at the camp. Once in a while, an announcement will be made or a message passed.
We were searched and processed, then a KGN given to us (kogi number): we used it to sign for foam and headed to the hostel to drop our things, get a bed space and wardrobe and then proceeded for the actual registration.
The registration was stressful to say the least. Standing on a queue that wasn't moving, just because a second queue of pregnant women and nursing mothers was being attended to.
My phone rang and I managed to bring it out from my pocket amidst the tugging and pushing in the line. It was Oge. I was standing close to one of the public address systems blaring on loud songs. I couldn't hear her very well so I ended the call and sent her a message that I was doing registration.
She inquired about my exact spot and I informed her. Few minutes later, I saw her searching for me like a lost coin and I called her attention.
She asked why I didn't call her when I came to camp.
"I was waiting for you. I'm almost done with registration, just to write my name in the book of life".
-which wan be book of life again-
Oge helped my with the registration. I found out I was queued on the wrong line with people that had gone two stages ahead of me. I was yet to get my callup letter endorsed, which was the first step.
She almost shouted at me when she learnt I was yet to photocopy my document. She was really upset and reminded me that she asked me to do it while she saw me at school.
We had to leave the long line and head to the photocopy centre. Prices at camp where aimed at cutting your throat! Photocopy for N50 per page, using their stapler to staple your document cost N20, you pay for tip-ex, marker, office pin etc.
She helped me arrange the documents how they were supposed to be, I payed and we left.
"Next time I tell you to do something, you do it", she said angrily after learning how much I payed for each document photocopied.
I couldn't help but wonder why she was treating me like her younger sibling. Although it was fun, I really found it fascinating. She grabed the file and walked away angrily.
"Come with me!", she muttered.
"Yes ma'am", I said as I followed suit. She stopped, turned to me and smiled. She reached for my hand and held them as we both walked back to the registration point.
We both succeeded in completing our registration same day. I was grateful for reporting to camp at the opening day. It was late when we finally got our kits.
"You are in platoon 2", oge must have seen my KG number: 0422.
"Yea, what of you?", I asked.
"Seven", she said as she showed my her number; 0097
"I wish we were in the same platoon", she said.
"Me, I wish we were in the same hostel", I joked and she laughed.
"I wish we were sharing the same bonk", she added to the joke. "Are you staying up or down?" She added immediately.
"Up",
I replied. I don't like down bonks. I was a border at secondary school and the experience thought me that your corner mate will always have friends who, when they visit your corner, would prefer to sit on your bed down bonk, while their own foam rests peacefully up the bonk.
"I prefer the down bonk", she said. "I feel I may fall of the top if I sleep there", she said.
"So you stay down, I stay up. Wouldn't that be nice?", I tried flirting.
"Yea, then at night?", she asked.
"You have a corrupt mind", I said jokingly and we laughed.
"Thanks for helping me with registration", I said. "I want to show some appreciation, let's go find something to eat".
She held my hand as we walked to the mami
We will be telling the story from Mazi's Bunk Mate point of view next time
Stay Tuned
No comments:
Post a Comment