Service, friendship, growth
They say life is in stages- I agree. But if I hadn’t passed through the challenges that came with NYSC and made it to this point, I’d probably still be in comatose, asking God “Why me?”
Before graduation, my friends; Lucy, Kyen, Melody, and I, discussed where we’d love to be posted for service. We’d done the entire four (technically six) years of university together, so it only made sense to plan to do life after school together, or at least close enough. We compared dreams, and they basically aligned. Little did we know.
You know, when you’re in a particular stage of life and preparing for its end, the only logical thing to do is to dream of better, to stay optimistic, because faith, among other things, teaches us to believe that there’s always better ahead.
Camp was the experience. I’d attended boarding school and even gone to camp as a junior cadet back in secondary school. I remember an endurance trek we went on one morning that nearly rendered my legs immobile afterward. Still, nothing prepared me for the punishments under the sun or the early morning parades in camp.
I’ve since heard that all NYSC camps have a curse hovering over Platoon 10 because there’s no logical reason why our camp commandant chose to torment my platoon when all I wanted to do, every time we were out of the hostel, was find the most suitable position to sleep. We were punished even during our afternoon rest hours! I ran for dear life- joined the OBS instead, even though I’d dreamed of participating in the final parade. Choose your battles wisely.
After camp, the real challenge began. I’d been waiting to get accepted into my fantasy city of service. I never thought that instead of joyful stories, I’d be writing testimonies instead. Did I forget to mention? My friends and I didn’t make it together. I don’t want to say our dreams were shattered, but in layman’s terms, they were.
I was posted to Kano alone.
The first week was all about survival and adjusting. But as is typical of me, before anxiety could find me later on, I kept my fantasies alive. The first day as a Kano corper was dreamlike or rather, the first morning, because that day didn’t end the way it started.
I remember being in the vehicle alone that cold harmattan morning, shivering from the biting cold. I would have shaken harder if not for the irresistible views. I’d always been a small-town girl, so the width and depth of Kano impressed me. The landscape, the grand historic buildings; mosques, royal palaces, and more were a welcome sight to my hungry eyes. I almost cracked my neck trying to keep up with the beauty and grandeur around me. It was a long drive, but I’d set out early, so I had enough time to soak it all in.
My life has always been a demonstration of good luck. In fact, my mum never stops reminding me that I am a child of luck. Maybe that’s why, instead of leaving me to the cold hands of loneliness, I was blessed, first with my dear friend Chat, and then with a girl I’d randomly met at the Secretariat on my first day of registration. Funny enough, I didn’t even call her after collecting her number that day. Our paths crossed again at the Gwale Secretariat, and right there, I knew she was going to be part of my Kano story, one of the few bright spots in my service year.
Settling in took forever. Back in university, my friend Kyen had always guided me through every registration process- sorting my course forms and receipts so I was a little spoiled. The frustrating process of opening files, submitting papers, and getting a PPA almost drove me mad. But after a few weeks, I made it through. Then came the strangest battle yet.
When you think you’ve chosen the right thing for yourself and later discover it’s the least favorable among all your options, it takes an incredible amount of strength and determination to keep going. But again, I believe that when you begin every stage of life with God and the right intentions, nothing, no matter how devilish can truly break your spirit.
My PPA tested that conviction. I fought battles I never imagined, and honestly, in all my daydreaming about service with my friends, we never made room for horrors or unforeseen challenges. We were too optimistic and that was our biggest mistake.
But even in that storm, I found light.
Every morning at my PPA, as I watched the children in their classes, some laughing, some shy, some stubborn, all curious, I fell in love with their innocence. Day after day, I watched the process of learning unfold before my eyes. How you come empty, and after a while, are filled with something new and life-changing. Their growth was slow, sometimes chaotic, but always beautiful. It reminded me that learning, just like living, is a journey, and that even in the hardest places, something pure can grow.
And in that same place, God showed me mercy again by posting Wandoo, the girl I’d met randomly, to the same PPA. Because of her, my battles there were bearable. She made even the hardest days softer and the toughest moments brighter. Looking back, I can’t imagine that experience without her friendship.
Through that one year, I went through many stages within that stage. But as I said earlier, I am a girl of luck and somehow, a girl of insane faith and determination too. Along the way, I kept true to some of my goals: seeing the city of Kano and exploring its beauties.
The markets, just as I’d hoped, called to me and I answered. I expanded my business, adding abayas, jalabiyas, and thrift loafers and sneakers to my stock. It was tough, but it strengthened my resolve to chase greater success.
One Year After
Looking back now, NYSC wasn’t just a service year- it was a mirror that showed me who I really am. It taught me endurance, patience, and resilience. Most importantly, it reminded me that even when dreams scatter, purpose still finds its way through the cracks.
If I learned anything from that one year, it’s that no experience is wasted. Every delay, disappointment, and detour has a lesson. Today, I stand stronger, proof that growth often hides behind discomfort.
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