Yobe.
I looked incredulously at the document on my phone's screen. The Nigerian government, in its infinite wisdom, had deemed it fit to send me to the "far East" to fulfill my duty as a member of the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC).
Yobe.
It had yet to compute. Where was Yobe even? The extent of my knowledge of Yobe was exhausted when I recited its capital in the rote way we had learnt as toddlers. Most of us still have to recite it to remember states and their capitals. (It's Damaturu, by the way.)
How do I even get to Yobe? By way of Borno perhaps, so I could be sure the government was out for my blood. Turns out, you get to Yobe by way of Kano, then ride in a Sienna (which may or may not have bed bugs) for 4 hours to the NYSC camp at Dazigau, near Potiskum. (No, I did not make up this name).
Let's even back up a bit.
Before I could embark on the great Northern Sojourn, I needed some documentation to legitimise the government using me for cheap labour. I spent almost an entire week running around Yaba, from the Lagos University Teaching Hospital to the University of Lagos to sort out said documents. The inefficiencies of Nigerian institutions are mind-boggling. I also made stops at Tejuosho Market to buy supplies for NYSC, including a ridiculous amount of white clothing.
Eventually, I had to reschedule my flight to Kano from Thursday the 12th to Sunday the 15th, despite the day to officially report to camp being Tuesday, the 10th of November, 2020. On arriving at camp on Sunday evening, I could not have imagined that I'd be walking out the gates again in less than 48 hours on exeat.
After the morning parade on Tuesday, in which I was so cold my numb hands were turning blue, I went to the camp clinic because I had the beginnings of a cough. The doctor took a quick look at me and asked if I came with a medical report and any medication. I answered in the affirmative and was asked to retrieve them from the hostel.
Apparently, due to my pre-existing medical conditions and the fact that I had developed sinusitis in my short time at camp, the doctor insisted that I be allowed to return home. As "home" is Lagos, that wasn't very feasible so instead I headed to Ngalda, a small town in Yobe, where my dad's best friend is a pastor. He had been posted there a few years prior by his church. What are the odds you ask? I ask too. (Btw, the North is hella big fam! Just land everywhere! Potiskum to Ngalda is ~80km!)
After a few days of the pastor and his wife's hospitality, I left for Abuja by way of Jos. Here, I made a pit stop to visit my mother's friend, whom I affectionately refer to as "Mummy number 2". I shall be heading to Abuja to join my mother tomorrow morning, thus concluding my tour of the North… for now.
See you soon, I hope. Peace and lots of Moisturizer.