What happens when you add a 6feet 7 inches event planner, a Kano man from Turkey, an upcoming Nigerian Artist, an Average writer, a fair lady, a Queen, an ex-fit fam, a content creator, a foreign p.c.m and a wild card? You get one hell of a good time! My name is Omotuyi Oluwapelumi and this is my story in bauchi untold.
I woke up around 3 am that faithful day with news about NYSC posting saturating the air.
With my heart in my mouth I proceeded to check my dashboard for my posting, immediately I saw Bauchi my heart ceased so I did what any normal Nigerian would do: I went back to bed.
Now for strangers who are not familiar with the modus operandi of Nigeria, there are what we call danger states I.e. states previously or presently ravaged by the notorious jihadist group Boko haram, and to us westerners that includes most northern states.
Everyone I told made it seem like I was engaging on a moribund journey and I made matters worse I asked people for their opinions which only terrified me.
According to google the state was about 18hrs by road which if you are a Nigerian you know that’s give or take +5hrs, and with the recent kidnappings traveling by road wasn’t an option.
The Journey to Bauchi
Noteworthy tales happened in the second half of My journey, getting to Abuja my flight was booked for 11.15 am and for some reason only known to God I missed it I thought “is this a signal from you God do I just go back”
Sadly I booked another flight going to Bauchi that evening which also got delayed at this point I just wanted to see my mummy.
The flight was smooth but I kept wondering how would I get to camp if I am arriving this late p.s (it was about to 8 pm) hardly looked around or noticed the People around me.
The arrival (Bauchi untold)
I arrived at this strange state with mixed feelings, “is this how I am kidnapped kind of feeling?”
Leaving the airport I met “THEM” well most they were all shaking in their boots worried sick except for 6’7 and wild card who were surprisingly calm.
I kept thinking I should have paid attention to my Hausa teacher in secondary school what I would give to understand Hausa right now.
Maybe it’s the tribalist in me but upon seeing 6’7 I felt happy I thought he could speak Hausa I mean the man was dressed in their outfit.
We split into groups and got a cab.
The driver was nice and extremely helpful gave us a bit of what to expect helped us with a bus going to camp, gave us his card in case we needed assistance later.
The bus driver that took us to camp wasn’t driving he was flying!
We asked him how many mins more he said 15 mins,45mins later we were still flying people started panicking when we saw a sign with Maiduguri on it.
I was calm, still I thought 6’7 could speak Hausa, finally, we arrived at the camp around 10 pm I remember asking 6’7 angrily why he didn’t explain to the driver in Hausa.
“What! I’m from Edo fam,” said 6’7 at this point I felt stupid why didn’t I notice his hairy features “Edo people are usually hairy na ode,” my inner voice said to me.
It was lights out by the time we got to our allocated
rooms cells I was thirstier than a camel, I was sweaty, I was hungry and jaded.
I stayed outside for fresh air until I saw flashing torchlights closing in and saw my fellow
corpers inmates running so I joined them which was smart.
I saw 6’7 trying to explain to the soldiers that he just arrived and he needs to get some things I chuckled Edo people are also stubborn.
While on my
bed brazen I noticed what looked like an old man struggling with a bag it was the Kano man he had an interesting walk and he sounded different he took the next bunk to me and slowly unpacked.
I asked him for two things he couldn’t provide any I thought he was going to be useless.
Luckily a stranger gave me water and “impulsively I said to him if you ever need anything in camp please ask.”
The next day I was looking for wild-card we entered the cell together but now he’s gone.
We proceeded to continue our registration which was demanding, but I got to see these people in daytime.
Upcoming Artist was reserved you could tell he didn’t want to be here I mean all of us didn’t want to be there but he reeked of desperation he just wanted out
The girls were also present, camp gave them a rugged look.
Wild card finally showed up, he met with his friends and went to his much better hostel #sly
Exploring Bauchi camp
We all got posted to different platoons and some of us were more involved than the others not to brag or anything, 6’7 joined the broadcasting unit (o.b.s) in an attempt to ditch the parade ground.
Kano man always had connection and strings I’m sure he felt like a Genie, he was also devoted to his religion it was through his strings that we moved from prison to a hostel in a situation he handled not so well.
He also had this air of mystery he doesn’t say where he is going he just says I’ll be back like the terminator I found him bashful.
Wild-card was always appearing out of the blues he felt like an estranged twin we had similar thoughts on things.
He also had a devil-may-care nature never really thinking things through these were our fundamental difference.
Queen also couldn’t wait for the nightmare to end she had tired written all over her face.
She was from my state and this was a refreshing reprieve at times, wasn’t too chatty.
Ex-fit Fam and fair lady were part of the elite parade group to welcome the governor.
It was nice having a conversation with them they had big dreams the bigger the dream the better.
I didn’t know foreign p.c.m or Content Creator at this point our paths crossed much later.
Met some interesting personalities in camp, one was a bad boy chef who had tattoos of his visited countries.
Quite an impressive collection he also spoke about four or five languages and was a family man.
What was I doing you ask? Well, a bit of all, I joined the March parade after several embarrassing trials.
I later joined the drama unit (turns out acting wasn’t my thing either) .
Got handpicked by the platoon officer to be their macho man.
I tried my best to learn Hausa listening and asking random people to teach me a phrase (they were eager to teach).
Eating was my favorite part of the day it was where we would all meet and tell tales of our conquest and we had our little spot.
Now came the hard part just when I was settling in and starting to get my jam on.
We woke up to a quandary that we were all going home after just 1 week out of a possible 3 weeks, is that sadness!! I sense I asked myself?
I should be feeling exultant, I mean I am finally out of this prison and I never get to hear the annoying bugle at 4 am or feel the blistering night cold.
The plan was to pass the night in the camp that day and set off for the town the next day but it was foiled, we were asked to leave immediately, this was when I met content creator and foreign p.c.m.
Okay a little back story during a social night content creator leading his platoon sang awesomely and also I had a conversation with him some time and he sounded smart.
But upon leaving camp with the entire crew, I slowly felt my self-going crazy he was vexing me without even trying from deciding that we should solely trust google map in finding a place to stay to the constant chattering I lost it.
Foreign p.c.m was pleasant, you could tell she wasn’t your average angry Nigerian.
I might have heard from 6’7’s incessant geekiness about her.
he always had something nice to say about her, to be young, dumb and in love p.s
The goodbyes were just like this story short, with no emotions and an abrupt end.