After managing to get to my orientation camp and finally getting a room to lay my head in around midnight, I was woken up at 3 a.m. to begin the day. Day one was here already, and I was super excited that I was only able to sleep for three hours after such a long day travelling across the country. There was no sweeter feeling.
Entry two for my Diary of a Patriotic Corper and I am writing about it two days after. Why? Well, because they are after my life here, and it's in the little space I get to breathe that I get to remember my life.
The inner Tarzan in me has no choice but to be summoned. From my observations the first night, I only "thought" it would be a simple experience. But now, after many hours of different colours of palavers, I just have to remember the survival skills I acquired from being in a military school because I am back to that life again. And so it begins.
The first morning was exhilarating, in the sense that I first had to hustle for water to bathe. I was woken up at 3 a.m. not by soldiers to get my arse to the parade ground, but by everyone getting up and out to get water for themselves.
Getting outside and finding such a long queue, like we were in secondary school again, was a surprising surprise to me. I was surprised to find that we'd have to hustle for water that morning, and then I was surprised that I felt surprised by that when I should have expected it.
I eventually had to fetch water from a leaking tank from up above when the water in the taps stopped running. I was thrilled to feel this again—the hustle mentality—after I had gotten water anyway.
The dreaded registration
I had heard my peeps at different state orientation camps talk about how much of a hassle the registration process was, but I didn't expect it to be as intense as it was for me.
I started the process at 7 a.m. and fortunately ended it at 8 p.m. In between those times, however, were multiple moments of frustration.
It is possible to make this process seamless and feel less like we are registering for the university all over again. Instead, we were all waking up like homeless cows and standing around for hours like jobless camels. I couldn't have been any happier.
The registration process is to end with one getting the documents finally submitted, after the due procedures have been followed, and then receiving dress materials.
Fortunately for me, I was the last person to get a uniform in my platoon for the day. I would have been pained to have to resume the next day to continue the struggle. I felt bad for those after me.
What I realised after getting back to my hostel, was that the dresses were as wide as a swimming pool and would need critical adjustments. I can never be caught unfresh, so it's mandatory for me, the one and only Olujay.
Running for my life!
I retired to my hostel eventually, settled in, and got myself tucked in, hoping to have a good night's rest. Something that I didn't think would happen is being drilled at night by soldiers. We were punished for something that was ridiculous and hilarious by the next morning—and not that night.
It was around midnight, and everyone had fallen asleep, but I was still awake on a phone call when the ridiculous thing happened.
"Blood of Jesus! Blood of Jesus! Blood of Jesus!"
Startled by a nightmare or surrounded by snakes, I wasn't sure why this guy exclaimed those words, but the atmosphere changed in a split second.
The next thing that happened was that people woke up from their sleep and started to run. The entire room of seventy people turned into a race track, with people running for their lives. That's when. I thought there was a dangerous animal or something. I joined in to run for my life as well.
Most of us were not accustomed to the hostel, and so we were all running without bearing. It's as dark as we couldn't see, so many of us landed in rooms that had dead ends and then had to run out again to keep finding the light at the end of the tunnel. Eventually, we got outside.
As guys, we should have handled the situation and not ran like kids. Instead, we let our African instinct run even without identifying the threat. However, it was dark. We all couldn't see the threat, and whoever started running made the rest of us run because we felt it must have been dangerous.
The big problem, and why we got into trouble with the soldiers, was that nobody seemed to know who shouted and got everyone scared. And, therefore, we got punished because no one spoke.
Moving on...
After such an exciting night of adrenaline pumping, I have come to the conclusion that anything can happen here at this orientation camp, and I should keep my eyes peeled and my Tarzan awake.
There are bright sides, actually. Meeting new guys and gals, sharing experiences, and doing activities together has been interesting. Let's see how this diary turns out. Thank you for reading!