webnovel

The Endurance Trek

I remembered the ugly one saying something about being soft on ladies. If only I had used that a'r'se when I had the chance! I told myself over and over.

I was tempted to go back to where the car was parked. But I ignored the thought. I know what awaits me; I won't see the car, nor will I see Chifawu, so I'll become even more agitated.

I attempted to use my phone. Perhaps it has regained some energy and turned on. It did, and when it was finished booting, I noticed the new text message icon.

When I opened it, there were six of them inside, one from wangu and the other five from chifawu. I scrolled to one of Chifawu's messages and attempted to open it, but the phone went dead again.

I found my charger and plugged in the phone, then tried resting my head for a few minutes before turning it back on. It morphed into a deep sleep.

After a deep sleep, I awoke very early that morning. It was 3:15 a.m. when I checked the time. I must have slept for an extended period of time.

I went to the outlet, unplugged my phone, and plugged it back in. That night, the ugly one did not sleep in the hall. In his place was another guy I hadn't seen before. I returned to my bed and scrolled through my messages.

I must have missed one because I now have seven unread messages. I read the wangu one. She wanted to know where I was and what I had planned for the evening. She clearly wanted us to hang out that night.

I read the first chifawu's messages. "Your phone isn't connecting.  I'lnnl meet you later." I checked the time sent; it had to have been while I was still waiting for her in the hall. The following message reads..:

"Where have you gone? "I'm currently here at the backstage." "In case you get this message later, I'm still waiting at the backstage," the next one says.

Oh, no!!! Almost all of the messages were the same, until I read her final message. "You abandoned me here and returned to your hostel." Goodnight.”

Why don't you go zamfara, Asaya?

***********************

Monday-- Day 20.

***********************

That morning, I waited a few minutes before calling Chifawu. When she asked what happened to my phone, I told her it had died.

"Where have you gone?" I inquired to ensure she did not go with the Nestle manager. "the hostel of course." She responded. I told her I'd love to see her at the parade ground that morning.

. She paused for a moment, saying she was tired and needed to rest, but eventually agreed to meet me. "I'll return after the endurance trek." She stated.

I had forgotten about the endurance trek session that morning. I was relieved she didn't choose the guy. I blamed myself for abandoning her.

I should have waited and stayed back; I should have trusted her more! We gathered at the parade ground for the morning parade, and after the devotion, we were informed of the endurance trek formalities.

Pregnant women and nursing mothers were asked to leave the camp, while the rest of us hiked out of the camp and into Assaya and its surroundings. I was gisting with Sanni and other team members while others sang Man'o'war war songs as they trekked.

The nysc ambulance, police escort, military vans, and a few buses were approaching from behind. "Hello, Mr. Smith!" Sonia joined us, I heard from behind.

She'd bleached her hair a gleaming golden color, shaved her brows, and replaced them with a long, thick line drawn with a sharp eye liner.

Her brows were thickened by the mascara, and I noticed she was wearing more ear rings than usual. Her wedding ring was nowhere to be found.

I was wondering if she actually made up for the morning endurance trek or if it was leftover from the night before. "You look good," I said merely to be polite.

As we walked, she held my hand. She was upbeat as she waved the hand she was holding as we walked. "How did you spend your night?" " I inquired. 

“Great.

Are you still looking for the ideal scene for our play?

" She inquired, smiling with her face bright. “No. "I gave up looking," I told her flatly. Then, she looked hurt and upset, she looked up to me and asked, "Why?"

"Well, I can't seem to find a perfect scene here at camp," I added as an afterthought. "I assumed you'd bleached your hair green and black."

“Why?

" She inquired. "That's the official Etisalat color," she said, then paused, as if she had just matched on $hit. "How come you're saying that?" " She inquired.

"You know why," I said, attempting to free my hand from her grip, but she was firm. "Remember, it's just an act; don't turn it into a drama and make scenes." She expressed herself using terminology from her field. 

After a few seconds of deliberation, I made my decision. "I found a perfect scene for the act," I told her, and she smiled back at me.

It was a long shot, but I had no choice. I'm going to need the ugly one's help again. He had all the connections I needed, and two of them are now available: his photographer friend and his military friend.

"So, what are we going to do now?"

" She inquired. "I hired some stage managers to decorate the stage and install some stage lights; it should be ready today," I told her.

“Perfect! "Bring your 'A' game," she instructed.

After the endurance trek, we reconvened at the parade ground. The nysc buses were packed with corpers who had grown tired of the trek and decided to board.

There was no morning parade because my platoon members and I had a meeting with Ms Enoh. She told us about the procedures for collecting callup letters and other things.

As everyone waited for her to speak about the money we had won thus far, it was clear that there was an elephant in the room. She announced that she will send some of the money to us through me so that we can use it to supplement what we already had.

My platoon members were dissatisfied with the anonymous response they received. They demanded that she tell us exactly what she was going to give us. Following the rows of yells and complaints, I called them to order.

I explained to them that it was a nysc tradition that the money belonged not just to us, but to the officials who looked after us; specifically, the man'o'war team assigned to us, the military men assigned to us, and a portion of it for the nysc official, our platoon officer.

I begged them to give the officials the benefit of the doubt and to believe that I trusted them to make the best decision. As ms enoh left, beckoning me to follow, they were satisfied with my speech.

While I had a brief meeting with Ms Enoh, I asked the financial team to read out the income and expenses to the platoon.

Chifawu slipped into the group from behind. Ms Enoh told me that she had recovered N80,000 so far. Others from state officials remained outstanding. She stated that she intended to give N10,000 to the man'o'war, N10,000 to the military, and N10,000 to herself.

She would give us N50,000, but if she could recover the other funds, she would add them to ours. It was a reasonable offer, and I accepted it.

As she walked away, she pulled out the N50,000 and handed it to me. I returned just as the finance group was finishing up their analyses. They had some money left over.

They were all pleased when I presented them with the N50,000 that Ms. Enoh had given me. We had more than enough money for the night thanks to the N50,000 and the money left over from the accounts department.

The night would be the campfire night, the final night in camp. It was supposed to be a platoon display, followed by a cooking competition, before all platoons converged to entertain themselves.

We came to an agreement on what to do with the money. We will hire a photographer who will photograph us in groups; drama, dance, volleyball, and all other contestants will be photographed with us. Then we can do things our own way.

Each platoon member is entitled to two free pictures, which will be covered by platoon funds. The remainder will be used to make food and beverages and drinks. The boys yelled, "Excess drinks!" We had more than enough money to have a good time.

I motioned for those who had made us proud to come forward as we applauded the drama group, Ms Big and Bold, the volleyball team, and finally, the football team.

We have a lot of volunteers, and some guys will join the ladies who will go to market to help carry it around. Then there are those who will cook the food, those who will buy and chill the drinks, and so on.

We dispersed after the lengthy meeting. Wangu was among those going to the market, so she went with her group to prepare a concise list in order to get money from the financial team to whom I had given all of the money.

I ran into Chifawu as she was being surrounded by my platoon members, hailing her! "Miss Nysc!" "Ms. Nysc!" I stayed back and let her enjoy the moment while everyone congratulated her.