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Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 4

The Land of no going back

I spent nine months at the Nigerian Army

recruitment Training depot Zaria and I survived it.

I went to hell and returned. I was in the Charley

Company, the yellow Company. My head was

shaven and it was taboo to allow hair grow on it.

All my belongings were separated from me, I was

given some pairs of military uniforms and sports

wears, and every other material used there was

made for the Army, from basic utensils to

toiletries.

The torture and suffering at the depot was

incomparable. We were reduced to nothing by

the military instructors. We were flogged like

Cattles whenever we erred, if a Man derails

during the training, all members of his team

suffer for it and one Man’s victory is equally

everyman’s. That is why you do not insult or

assault a Soldier in public because every Soldier

within the vicinity will fight for him. The weather

did not help matters, when it was cold; it was

extreme and when it was hot, was like a furnace.

It was nine months in hell, I had no visitor from

home, even though I expected none, I secretly

wished for a surprise visit from my Mother

especially when other recruits receive visitors

that bring them Garri and Kulikuli (Baked

groundnut) I had learnt to manage hunger right

from Child hood because I was brought up in

perpetual want and need. But I never missed my

meals at the depot, I do not do anything that

would make me to forfeit my meal and I take it

personal with any member of my team that

causes any situation that would make me to

miss my meal. Some recruits skip their meals

and use the period to rest since they have

alternative. I could not afford that luxury.

My mind was just fixed on the P.O.P day. I knew

the phase would pass someday. Many of us

could not cope with the rigours of the “land of

no going back” as the depot was tagged. Some

ran away while some left on medical grounds. I

could n not do either as I had nowhere to run to,

as long as there were still some recruits who

could endure this travail to the end, then I must

be amongst them.

I fell ill about four times: the first was as a result

of blood clot in my ears, we were made to sit on

our heads for three hours, some instructors

stood by with Kobokos in their hands flogging

and kicking anyone that falls down back into

position, the position is like this, we were spread

on the parade ground, the ground is made of

coal tar and gravel chippings so it is rough and

jagged. We squat with our palms on the ground,

the we tilt forward and plant our shinning heads

on the ground, we then raise up our buttocks

using our hands for support till we form an ”A’”

shape, then we stretch our hands backwards

behind our backs and clasps our palms together

consequently the weight of the upper body is

shifted to the head, in a couple of minutes we

begin to shake all over sweating profusely and

wailing, it is even made worse when we are

compelled to be singing while under such in

human posture “Go and tell my Mother that I am

doing well” is the ironic song we normally sing

under any punitive situation.

At the end of such session, it is common to see

some of us rush to the M.R.S (Clinic) to pull out

chipping from the head or to clean up blood

dripping from the Nose or ear, there is also this

disconnection between your lower and upper

body that you need to lie down for some time to

allow the normal flow of blood through your body

system. It is also a very common sight to see

recruits with plastered head or bandaged joint in

the depot. We lost eleven recruits to incidents

during my set at depot. Some fell from height

during the obstacle crossing exercise and broke

their necks, some died out of exhaustion and

dehydration while trying to run the almighty

twenty Miles marathon race, some also died as a

result of infectious diseases contacted in the

depot.

Majority of us had infections at different times,

wearing of Boots for almost fourteen hours daily

both under rain and shine led most of us to

develop foot rot or Athletes foot as it is called.

The odor that oozes out from our Boots when we

pull it remains indelible in my memory; the supply

of foot powder given to us could not help.

Scabies was another infection that was rampant

at the depot. I contacted it because I could wear

an under wear for days without washing it,

though my Khaki uniform was always clean

because physical appearance mattered a lot, you

have to look smart always even though you could

be soaked in a pool of dirty water any minute, I

was always itching, whenever my hands goes

into my trousers pockets, I scratch till It hurts, I

had blisters all over me, the whole of my back,

my buttocks, my crouch, I had sores all over me.

My worse moments were when we were on

parade ground at attention and the itchy

sensation begins, my Gawd! You dare not move

while at attention, and my balls and buttocks are

itching crazy, it is better experienced than

described.

On completion of the five miles marathon race, I

lost the use of my limbs for four days, I was

given a set of Crotches with which I limped and

attended to other activities, about twenty of us

got Crotches after that race, some refused to let

go of their crotches even when it was evident

their legs were okay, some insisted they needed

to go home for alternative medical attention,

while some had their Crotches taken away while

they were asleep at night, naturally they started

using their legs again.

Another incident that took me to the Hospital

was food poisoning. Fifty percent of the recruits

were defecating and vomiting after a meal of

Beans and yam at night. It was an emergency

situation as there were screams from every

quarter of the Depot, it was a very terrible

experience, I never knew a stomach ache that

painful, it was excruciating, and I was defecating

uncontrollably like a tap of water left running. We

were rushed to the Hospital in batches as all the

Staff and Soldiers of the Medical Corps were

summoned to work that night, by morning we

lost five recruits to Food poisoning. The panel of

enquiry set up by the Army to investigate the

incident came up with the fact that the beans

we ate that night was still fresh with the

chemical used to preserve it.

After nine months, I had added five inches to my

height, I was lanky and gaunt, I had learnt how to

smoke cigarettes and Igbo (Marijuana) I was not

addicted to Igbo though and that was because of

the consequences of smoking with an empty

stomach. I never had food in my Locker, I only

depended on food served us at the Canteen so I

only smoked before meals time, the good thing

about Igbo was that it makes the Mountains in

your life become valleys, after smoking some

joints together, we begin to reason together and

justify the hardship in the depot as a means of

toughening us, we began to plan on how to deal

with any bloody Civilian that messes with us

when we get to the real world. That is why it is

common to see Soldiers soaking Civilians in

Gutters or giving them Frog jump drills whenever

they have such opportunity. The summary of all

we learnt at the depot was to kill. That’s all!

Every training was channeled towards how to kill

an enemy either you are armed or not.

The D day came and we graduated. The Passing

out parade was very colourful and awesome. We

were posted into various units across the

Country. I was drafted into the Signals Corps and

was posted to the 82nd Division with HQ in

Enugu. Sixty three of us were posted to the 82nd

Division; we were conveyed by two Army

branded Coastal Buses from Kaduna to Enugu, a

banner with the inscription “Beware! Hungry

Dragons” was tied to the front of the First Bus.

We belonged to the Dragon Division.

Everywhere we stopped en route Enugu, we

wrecked havoc. With ugly bald heads, blood shot

eyes; we grabbed food stuffs from Hawkers and

gnawed without paying for the Items. Even when

we stopped to refill our Gas at a Petrol station,

we ordered the Driver not to pay a dime to the

attendant, we were Government Children!

“Government Pikin” we stopped at Lokoja to eat,

there was a cheap Brothel by the eatery, we

entered the Brothel and took advantage of the

unsuspecting Prostitutes, they were throwing

stones at our Bus and swearing at us as we

zoomed out of Lokoja like Rebels. We drank

cheap hot drinks and smoked all the way to

Enugu. Freedom is a sweet thing to experience, I

was eventually free or so I had thought.

We reported at the divisional HQ for detailing

and debriefing by the colonel G.S. he welcomed

us into the real military world and gave us

orientation on the scope of operations of the

Division. The division covered the whole of

eastern and southern Nigeria including the

middle belt. We were further posted to various

units within the division. I was retained in the

capital City under the command of Colonel

Asemota the Commanding Officer of the Signals

Corps.

All I had in life was in the “Ghana must go” bag

that I carried to the depot, it was returned to me

intact at the end of the training at Kaduna and

that was all I had as I settled into the two room

Apartment given to me in the Barracks. I was

happy to have a roof over my head, a real house,

not the patched mud house I grew up in at Esa

Odo. I had a toilet and a bathroom and a Kitchen

all to myself! Free of Charge! No bills to pay, it

was like a dream, I wished not to wake from this

dream, I pinched myself hard and it hurt, then I

knew it was not a dream, I screamed out loud

then I knelt down and said a prayer to God, I did

not pray throughout my stay at the depot but on

this day, I was sure I had survived. I thanked God

for his protection and I begged God to forgive all

my short comings. I prayed to God to keep my

Mother safe for me, even though I was sure she

was on her knees praying for me at the same

moment, at times when I had wanted to pray at

the depot, I imagined my Mother was doing same

on my behalf so I used such time for something

else.

With the little allowance I had with me, I went to

the mammy Market and purchased some basic

house hold stuffs, especially cooking utensils. I

could not buy a mattress so I made do with my

Military Blanket on the floor. I was waiting for

the payment of our nine months salaries

accumulated while on training. It would be paid

in bulk to us so we can start life with it after

which we would rely only on our monthly

salaries.

After a week of reporting to Enugu, I was

granted one week pass to go home and see my

family, I did not have enough money on me so

my R.S.M lent me the sum of five hundred naira,

and it was a huge amount as at December 1990.

I travelled home to see the only one Person in

my life, my Mother.


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