Day 7 - Monday
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I was awake before they blew the biggle. I lay on the bed having a recount of activities of the past week. Its been a great week; arriving camp, doing registration, making new friends, getting intimate with them. . .and lots more.
This new week was supposed to be filled with activities, as we were told; morning parade, lectures, games and some other social activities, evening parade and so on.
I tried to get my mind ready for the new week. The ugly one was sleeping peacefully on his lower bunk. It was amazing that after one week, no one was able to claim the wager. I really under-estimated him. I didn't give him a chance at girls, I made a fast judgement on him just because of the first impression I had about him.
Whoever said that first impression mattered should be having a rethink now.
The ugly one proved me wrong in all areas. If not for the small stunts I pulled, he would have beaten me in my own game.
At least, I've learnt some new things; the un-ending power of money.
I was ready before the biggle for morning parade was blown. The ugly one still lay on the bed. He wasn't in a hurry to leave the hostel as were others running up and down at the sound of the biggle. He had his medical papers, I wondered why someone would fake medical papers just to exempt himself from camp activities.
I joined my platoon and we lined up at the parade ground as usual. My platoon was to lead the morning devotion session, but when the two guys that were supposed to say the christian and muslim prayers got to the centre, they were sent back to the platoon.
"What happened?" I asked umar, the muslim guy as he returned to where we lined up.
"I don't know fa", he said. "They said something about a report against the flatoon leader and the assistant".
A report against me and wangu? What was happening?
The official in charge for the day announced that platoon 3 should come and lead in morning devotions.
So this is real!!!
I searched around for wangu and found her at the back line. I went to her to ask if she had any idea of what was going on. As I tried to negotiate my way to her position, the man'o'war guy shouted rather angrily at me.
"Will you go back to your spot!" He shouted at me with a barking voice.
Everything is not alright! Something is wrong somewhere.
After the morning prayers, the nysc official made announcements as we all listened. I tried to see if I could get a hint of what was wrong, but I couldn't.
Then she announced that platoon 1 will do the man'o'war special training this morning, while platoon 3 will do theirs in the evening. This was not the original arrangement, platoon 2 was supposed to do theirs in the evening!
Something was definitely wrong.
"What's happening?" Chifawu whispered to my ears from behind. I tried to smile at her but my facial muscles couldn't extend past the frown stage.
"I don't know. But we will soon find out."
The Rsm took over as we recited the anthems and pledge.
Then enters the Camp Commandant.
All the military men stood at attention as he approached the stage. The Rsm made some introductory salutes and handed him the microphone.
His speech was short and on point. He reiterated the need for us to obey camp rules and regulations at all times. He stressed it that the result of disobeying camp rules was punishment.
"I will use platoon 2 and the two leaders to set an example this morning. . ."
As he made this announcement, a group of military men surrounded my platoon. Every member was panicking as the platoon 1 and platoon 3 members close to us moved away from us sharply to create a distinct boundary between us and them. My heart skipped in multiple proportions.
I pinched myself to see if I could wake up from this nightmare.
I didn't wake up. . .
Now this is real!
The military men took us in files to the centre of the parade ground. The commander ordered us to sit on the air!
It was a tedious punishment. You sat like there was a seat under your a'r'se, but its just the air you are sitting on. All your body weight rests on your thighs, and within moments, it can't stand the strain any longer and it starts to buckle.
Other platoons did their morning drills while we sat on air in the middle of the parade ground.
There were falls and cries of pains as the thighs gave up and bodies slumped around the ground. The military men where behind us with their whips should we fall and remain in the ground. You are expected to resume your position after you fell down.
Up until then, none of us knew why we were being punished. You dare not question a camp commandant. All we did was just to obey his commands.
"Oya, frog jump all of you," he roared again and the military men where at our bags with whips. We frog-jumped the entire length of the parade ground and back.
After sessions of frog jump, my legs where buckling, so was that of my platoon members. Some of the girls were crying, the ajebota children.
"Oye, lie down", he commanded.
The style of lying down was different. We were to hang our bodies on the air using our hands, like you are actually doing a press-up. We stayed that way for another 45 minutes, falling and getting up while there were cries around.
Other military men around us watched and ensured everyone was doing the punishment. The morning drill was over and the matching and parade was about to start: but the commandant was not through with us. Other platoon members watched as we were rolled on the floor by the military men.
The girls where really crying and the guys were murmuring to themselves. Everybody was in pains.
"Oya, frog jump!"
That was it, I couldn't take it anymore. I remembered the speech I gave at RCCF yesterday; I leader has to lead and part of that is a selfless service, even if it means being the scape goat to be used as sacrifice.
"Excuse me sir!"
I called out from the group as I stood up and walked up to him.
Other members of my platoon stood up too. It was evident that no one was ready to take it again.
He looked at my like Goliath looked at David before crushing him (or was it david that did the crushing).
"Sir, we will like to know what we did wrong". I said to him.
The reaction from my platoon members indicated that they were in support of my request. They echoed 'yessss' in concurrence.
"Who are you!" He roared at me. It got the attention of most of the corpers getting ready to commence the marching. Some two military men stood behind me, like they were awaiting their master to give the command so they can deal with me.
"I am the platoon leader, and will like to know what we did wrong, so as to avoid doing such next time."
It was a fair request.
"Where is your assistant," he asked and wangu came up and joined me.
"Why didn't your platoon clean up the camp yesterday that they were on camp duty?"
Mtchewwwwww. . .
So that was what this was all about!
"Sir, we appointed people for that", I tried to explain to him.
I informed him that we grouped people for kitchen work and sanitation work.
"But that was not what your platoon commandant reported!" He screamed at me.
"He said you both did not assign anyone for the job, and that was why it wasn't done."
"If we did not assign anyone, then how come some of us did the kitchen job?" It was Wangu speaking calmly to the commandant.
"Give me the list of those that where supposed to clean up the camp".
I was sure wangu wrote down some KGN of those we assigned sanitary work, I did not want to implicate anyone. I and wangu exchanged glances, she was thinking what I was thinking.
"We don't have a list for that," I told him.
"Then you all will surver the consequences". He shouted angrily at me.
"Next time you assign duty to people, get their KG numbers". He said angrily.
Go back you two fools!
We returned to the group, wangu by my side.
"I have that list", she said.
"We don't need it. He has punished all of us for two hours already, there is no need making a selective punishment for a few people now".
"Oya, sit on the air", he roared again as he all murmured.
The military men behind bounced on some people still standing and forced them to suspend their nyash in the air.
After few minutes, I said to wangu.
"Faint".
'What?" She managed to ask.
"Faint, and we will carry you to the medical centre".
I found out that a corper can be exempted from virtually everything as long as his or her reasons is medical.
You can be exempted from morning parade just with a written note from camp clinic, you can leave camp if you have medical papers, you can be re-deployed to your state if you have medical papers.
Wangu understood the plot as she slumped on the floor. We were at the front of the group, directly facing the commandant. I motioned one of the platoon guys to help me.
Almost immediately, he rushed to her and we both carried her to the direction of camp clinic.
Before we could move further away from the parade ground, two more girls slumped and were carried by the guys. Before you could say jack, it became a fainting spree! Girls were fainting with smiles on their faces and guys were rushing them to the clinic.
The entire parade ground was filled with laughter as other corpers watched the movie my platoon was acting. The commandant was dumbfounded. Some military men took part in the laughter session.
After that, my platoon was nicknamed the 'Fainter's platoon' and became the popular slogan for us in camp. . .
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If the platoon commandant did file a report against us that wangu and I were the reason the platoon failed to do their duty, then it means he was working hard to set me up and make my stay miserable in camp.
How long will it be before I start getting subsequent treatment from other military personnel at camp. I have to find out why he was bitter with me, and I was sure wangu was hiding something. . .
I was sure going to find out from her. . .
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