Baby, it worked!
My girlfriend was screaming and running to my direction.
It worked!
She ran to me with all smiles. She was breathing heavily, trying to catch her breathe. She ran all the way from the student affairs block A to block C where students of Engineering faculty were gathered up, waiting for NYSC call-up letters.
"Lasgidi things!" She screamed as she hugged me.
I was happy for her. This has been her dream, to serve at Lagos state. She was so excited that she started doing some etighi dance steps. Every student lined up for callup was staring, laughing and clapping for her.
"Why haven't they giving you people yet?", she asked.
I wish I had the answer to that. The old man attending to students from my faculty was so dull and lazy. It takes him closely 12 minutes to attend to a student.
"Clearance form", he will ask after he must have called your name. Then he will take 4 minutes comparing the names at the computer sheet with that in your clearance form, adjusting his big spectacles in the process.
"Photocopies", he will ask again as he takes more time to scrutinize the duplicate of your statement of result.
"I.D card. . ."
It was so annoying watching him spend eternity before giving you the call-up.
I don't know why they won't employ young, virile and smart young graduates to do some of these works. We complain of unemployment while the old men keep adjusting their ages to remain in public service. That man could be old enough to be my grand dad.
"Mechanical and Production Engineering!"
The old man shouted, beckoning on those that graduated from the department of mechanial engineering to come closer.
He was in charge of faculty of Engineering and Technology, and started in alphabetical order. After enduring the wait for Agric Engr., Biotechnology, Chemical engr and so on, it has finally gotten to my department.
I was restless, the sun had beaten me for six straight hours, amidst the tugging and pushing.
"Don't worry, it will work out, same way mine did".
My girl had an uncle who she said worked at NYSC office at Abuja. It was her idea for us both to serve in the same place, her choice was Lagos state. She had everything worked out; her uncle will help us get posted to Lagos state, her auntie at Adax petroleum will get us a company letter head requesting for our service, and just like that, we both will be working at Adax petroleum.
It was a great idea, only that I wasn't that enthusiastic about Nysc. It wasn't like this last year, not until I discovered I had an outstanding that was going to cost me an extra year.
It would have been wonderful if I was preparing for this service the previous year, when I ought to have graduated. My friends had all gone for service the previous year, people I was brighter than and smarter than. We were all looking forward to the service thing before I learnt of my extra year. It devastated me!
I was one of the best in my department. My colleagues respected me and even consult me for inputs on assignments. A semester to go and I had no outstanding or spill over courses. I just had to finish up with the remaining five courses and my project. One thing was worrying me, my CGPA stood at 3.42, I needed a solid 3.5 to make a dream 2-1 so I could increase my chances at the labor market: that was where desperation entered, and that was how I earned myself an extra year at school.
I had known my H.O.D's daughter for sometime now. She lives with her dad and comes to work with him every morning, after dropping the dad's bag, she heads off to her department. She was like a personal assistant to the dad, types his letters, reads and replies his mails. The few times I was at my H.O.D's office, I see her typing some documents or grading papers. We were just acquaintances, nothing more, at least, as at then.
I made strategic plans on how to improve my CGPA, I didn't dare join the crowd having 2-2, I thought, rather wrongly, that a 2-2 was a disadvantage and that a 2-1 will give me an advantage over my colleagues at the labor market. My first strategy was to study harder, quit some of my extra curricula activities and focus more on my studies. I tried this for most part of that last semester, but it didn't seem to be working. Most of my test scores came back within the same average mark. To crown it all, my H.O.D was handling two courses, with each one having 3 credit load. I has having difficulties grasping the course, so was all my other course mates. Those courses where the undoing of many previous students.
I didn't just want to pass those courses, I wanted to boost my CGPA, that's where desperation set in; I wanted a shut cut to that, that's where my H.O.D's daughter came into the picture, and that's where my dilemma started.
Standing on a hot friday sun that afternoon, I recounted the bitter ordeal my sexcapade with my H.O.D's daughter landed me into.
My girlfriend was screaming and running to my direction.
It worked!
She ran to me with all smiles. She was breathing heavily, trying to catch her breathe. She ran all the way from the student affairs block A to block C where students of Engineering faculty were gathered up, waiting for NYSC call-up letters.
"Lasgidi things!" She screamed as she hugged me.
I was happy for her. This has been her dream, to serve at Lagos state. She was so excited that she started doing some etighi dance steps. Every student lined up for callup was staring, laughing and clapping for her.
"Why haven't they giving you people yet?", she asked.
I wish I had the answer to that. The old man attending to students from my faculty was so dull and lazy. It takes him closely 12 minutes to attend to a student.
"Clearance form", he will ask after he must have called your name. Then he will take 4 minutes comparing the names at the computer sheet with that in your clearance form, adjusting his big spectacles in the process.
"Photocopies", he will ask again as he takes more time to scrutinize the duplicate of your statement of result.
"I.D card. . ."
It was so annoying watching him spend eternity before giving you the call-up.
I don't know why they won't employ young, virile and smart young graduates to do some of these works. We complain of unemployment while the old men keep adjusting their ages to remain in public service. That man could be old enough to be my grand dad.
"Mechanical and Production Engineering!"
The old man shouted, beckoning on those that graduated from the department of mechanial engineering to come closer.
He was in charge of faculty of Engineering and Technology, and started in alphabetical order. After enduring the wait for Agric Engr., Biotechnology, Chemical engr and so on, it has finally gotten to my department.
I was restless, the sun had beaten me for six straight hours, amidst the tugging and pushing.
"Don't worry, it will work out, same way mine did".
My girl had an uncle who she said worked at NYSC office at Abuja. It was her idea for us both to serve in the same place, her choice was Lagos state. She had everything worked out; her uncle will help us get posted to Lagos state, her auntie at Adax petroleum will get us a company letter head requesting for our service, and just like that, we both will be working at Adax petroleum.
It was a great idea, only that I wasn't that enthusiastic about Nysc. It wasn't like this last year, not until I discovered I had an outstanding that was going to cost me an extra year.
It would have been wonderful if I was preparing for this service the previous year, when I ought to have graduated. My friends had all gone for service the previous year, people I was brighter than and smarter than. We were all looking forward to the service thing before I learnt of my extra year. It devastated me!
I was one of the best in my department. My colleagues respected me and even consult me for inputs on assignments. A semester to go and I had no outstanding or spill over courses. I just had to finish up with the remaining five courses and my project. One thing was worrying me, my CGPA stood at 3.42, I needed a solid 3.5 to make a dream 2-1 so I could increase my chances at the labor market: that was where desperation entered, and that was how I earned myself an extra year at school.
I had known my H.O.D's daughter for sometime now. She lives with her dad and comes to work with him every morning, after dropping the dad's bag, she heads off to her department. She was like a personal assistant to the dad, types his letters, reads and replies his mails. The few times I was at my H.O.D's office, I see her typing some documents or grading papers. We were just acquaintances, nothing more, at least, as at then.
I made strategic plans on how to improve my CGPA, I didn't dare join the crowd having 2-2, I thought, rather wrongly, that a 2-2 was a disadvantage and that a 2-1 will give me an advantage over my colleagues at the labor market. My first strategy was to study harder, quit some of my extra curricula activities and focus more on my studies. I tried this for most part of that last semester, but it didn't seem to be working. Most of my test scores came back within the same average mark. To crown it all, my H.O.D was handling two courses, with each one having 3 credit load. I has having difficulties grasping the course, so was all my other course mates. Those courses where the undoing of many previous students.
I didn't just want to pass those courses, I wanted to boost my CGPA, that's where desperation set in; I wanted a shut cut to that, that's where my H.O.D's daughter came into the picture, and that's where my dilemma started.
Standing on a hot friday sun that afternoon, I recounted the bitter ordeal my sexcapade with my H.O.D's daughter landed me into.
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