6 Things People Who Attended NYSC Camp Can Relate To

To the people who haven’t been to Camp yet, you’re in for a treat. To those of you that missed it, you have my sympathy. To the rest of us that did go, make we reminisce for a bit.


What toilet? What bathroom? All of you who went to camp up in the North probably won’t be able to relate to this because I heard sanitation was on point there. For the rest of us? Utter rubbish. I don’t even think I ever came near 2 metres of the place. You see the bush? You will come to appreciate the bush. The bush is your friend. But the soldiers on duty will be so hell bent on making you catch some new, unchartered disease by forcing you to use filthy cubicles & toilets from the Dark Age. So you can only visit your loving bush patch at odd hours of the day to relieve & clean yourself. It’s a wonder we didn’t all get UTIs or bitten by snakes.



I swear that everyone I went to camp with left with toned biceps & triceps. Reason? The water pump. If you didn’t know, the water pump is the sacred tool which issues that life giving water you will depend upon for survival throughout the duration of camp. There was always a line at the pump as people were constantly paying homage to it. So you would have to wake up AGAIN at ungodly hours to use the pump to fetch water. All this only for someone in your dorm to steal both your bucket & the water in it. Don’t worry too much about that. Just steal someone else’s. Everyone must be united in suffering.


The highlight of camp basically. Market during the day, Night club during the evening. Trust that Mama Nkechi has cartons of Moét stocked at the back of her shop, ready for purchase by yahoo boys during every night party (yes, expect to meet G-boys & Runs Girls). Mammy market also had lovely spots where you could drop your phone batteries to charge while you were away at drills. Because, of course, there were no working electric sockets in the dorm rooms. God help you that you go to pick up your battery, only to discover it has already been collected by your ‘friend’. Stories that touch.


There are 10 platoons in total & the platoon you’re assigned to determine how serious you’re planning to take camp activities. For example, Platoons 1 & 2 are always regarded as the best platoons while Platoons 9 & 10 are just there for chills. By some twist of fate, I was assigned to Platoon 10. Our motto was ‘We Can’t Come And Die‘. Even our Platoon Commander gave up on us eventually. But there were occasions where we would band together to bring down those cocky rascals from Platoon 1. The rivalry was so bad that frolicking between the 2 Platoons was forbidden. Betrayal was never tolerated.


Love was sweet at camp. All those options made readily available. Guys and girls of every shape and size, packed together like sardines in one location. Hormones raging everywhere. To all those that professed their undying love for their camp boo, only to ghost them 2 weeks later after camp had ended, I hope you’re doing well. You know that saying, ‘What Happens At Camp, Stays At Camp‘? Tattoo it on your heart. It’s just 2 weeks. Hold yourself. If not, you’ll end up cutting grass as punishment because you ripped a girl’s edges off after you saw her kiss your man.


After a long session of announcements & prayers at 4am in the morning, you have morning drills to look forward to. I personally didn’t mind this, but it annoyed me how almost everyone seemed to know the drill songs and I didn’t. Like I don’t get. Did you guys practice the songs secretly at home before coming here so that you could show off? And then, there was always that one person that was unnecessarily hyped at that time of the morning. That person that led the drill songs & shouted random quotes like ‘Good To Go?!‘ and ‘Are You Ready?‘ I’m definitely ready to go back to bed. Nonsense.

Even still, I wouldn’t give up my camp experiencefor anything. Made a lot of good friends along the way. Cross River for the win.


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