I started in my place of work with some positive feeling; the only thorn in my side was that I had not been told exactly how much I would be paid, all I was told was that they were negotiating on the amount of N10000 a month. For those of you who think the amount of N10000 is a lot, in conversion it is about 45 pounds or 70 dollars a month, this when my transportation cost in the month came to N15000.
So I started work in April, but before I could start work my parents suggested I move to a family member’s house which was closer to my place of work, but more on that later. I was very angry having to make this move, I mean, the imposition on this poor people, and you know people do not do things for you in naija that you do not have to pay back someway. Anyways, most of my work for the first month was a disjointed mixture of what I call ‘going crazy slowly’. I could not do anything worth while so I took to bothering people to give me something to do, for my sins I became known as someone who was willing to work and do the job well, but this did not protect me from one of my greatest battle on the frontline of the organisation. GETTING PAID.
Now according to my employers, my pay day is the last day of the month, so the faithful day, I arrived at the HR office like a good little worker ready to get my pay, only to be told that ‘our organisation does not have youth corpers’. First I smiled, then I got mad, first of all over the last month I had to put on with so many indecent proposals from co workers, Demi Moore had nothing on me. I faced insults from useless Ajegunle type people who because they feel insecure about their position in life only felt vindicated when belittling others. When all is said and done, do I not deserve to get paid for the work I have put in, and do I not deserve extra for all the other stuff, well I knew the extra was not going to come, but at least GIVE ME MY MONEY
Despite all of this, I persevered and after many hours of shouting and being alternately sweet and bitter, I was told when they checked out their records that guess what, yes they had youth corpers. The problem it turns out was that they had not determined a figure of pay and that this process would take a few more days. So I waited, not for one day, or two days, instead I waited 3 weeks to get paid. I kid you not, I was pissed, royally, I was asking myself, “how you can negotiate on such a pitiful sum when the owners of the organisations carry this amount of money on them as change to dash to the poor slobs who litter their surroundings”.
I had had to humiliate myself just to get paid repeatedly going to the HR office asking about the process, nobody telling me anything, by the time I got paid I was broke before the money arrived in my hand. I mean I had to pay back all the money I had borrowed from people, I had used all my savings and I was hanging on my last N500. In fact I had already written a ‘letter oriburuku’ telling the whole useless lot of them what I thought when I got the call that my money had arrived, you should have seen sprint, Carl Lewis could not have caught me. At the time, I was close to slapping one person who was like ‘well why don’t you ask your parents they sent you to England they are rich you do not need the money’. If not for the good manners my mother raised with me the person would have been looking at me from the flat of their arse.
My employers were not the only ones negligent in their role to corpers, the NYSC (unsurprisingly) are as bad as my employers regarding pay. While I had on good authority that the corpers money for April came in on the 2nd week in April, I was not paid for April until the last week in May. At one point I was so broke, I had to walk nearly three miles to get from my home to the bank because I could not afford the transport fare. (This would explain my new svelte look, suffering agrees with me, in fact I was told I reeked of wealth at the height of my suffering)
All of this was going on while I was trying to get the NYSC to pay me and relocate my community development assignment. My LG had decided to give me a CD on the mainland, this while having been assigned a job, having had to secure a house and leaving my friends and family to move on the island. This meant that once a week all the money I had saved from moving to the island was spent going back to the mainland to complete my CD, I think by now you know my mantra, Yes I was Pissed, mad as hell.
This was not the end of my woes, no, once a month, corpers are meant to go and clear themselves, but the funny thing is there is no set day or week in which this is to be done. No email is sent out, no phone calls made, the only way you know you are meant to clear yourself, is if a friend lets you know that it is taking place, it is basically a good old fashioned heard it through the grapevine.
Now let me paint you the scenario, over 1000 young people who have rushed out of whatever job they are doing, to come to the LG scrambling on the floor trying to find their files (The floor is the NYSC’s filing cabinet). Once they get their files they are forced to queue under the sun to get the file checked out and verified, this is then followed by another verification in a room about 12 by 12. Now do not let this get you down, you and about 70 people are squashed into this room, trying to get re verified, while the rest are standing in the sun getting cancer from the rays. When this is done, you then have to get your CD card signed, another queue in the sun, my May clearance lasted 5 read it 5 hours, why, there is no organisation.
Now don’t get me wrong, others were in the same situation or worse, but how any institution can claim success when every moment frustrates your customers is beyond me. Over 60% of youth corpers who pass out cannot find jobs and to make matters worse the money which is meant to sustain the service is being stolen by officials. All of this is happening while the same officials stealing the money are asking for bribes from people who have little to nothing.
I say youth corpers of Nigeria revolt; let them know you will no longer take bad service, bad food, bad manners and horrible organisation. Let them know that you know you have the power and are not afraid to use it, tell them to shove the blasted certificate up their collective arses. Having said this nobody wants to put a poker up the NYSC’s arses because they are afraid they will not get their passing out certificate, and after suffering this way for the last year, I can understand that, but the system is redundant, produces no results and is rife with corruption. THERE HAS GOT TO BE A BETTER WAY THAN THIS.
Well that is it so far for the daily grind of being an Eko Corper, but this blog is not just about being a Corper, it is also about surviving in Lagos, and let me tell you, there is more to come. If you thought you lived in the Ghetto (Geeto), or know what the ghetto is, you need to come to Lagos, the whole city as a Geeto, even the Lekki’s of the world as a friend of mine said is a rich man’s ghetto.
This is not the end of my NYSC experience, or even my Lagos experience, watch this space for more on what happens in my nigerorbust experience.
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