JOStified part 1 by Ephraim O.

Ephraim was among the many who made the trip to the NCCF headquarters at Jos, for the national conference which marked the organization's 30th anniversary. Unfortunately, I was unable to be there. Below is the first part of his account of the experience:

Exhilarating best describes the feeling. You could sense it in the songs chanted in unison, the smiles, jokes and comedy bouts, history told by comrades, knowledge shared in the midst with accompanying affirming knuckles and hi fives given to him/her whose statement you best concurred with. 

It was my first 18-hour trip (I wasn't alone in this novelty of a trip) heading from Osun to Jos in a Toyota Hummer bus packed filled with corps members and their luggage. Consequently, considering the spate of insecurity in this part of the nation, our decision to make this death-defying, terror-shaming trip was birthed from a passion for upgrading our spiritual O.S.

We stopped at almost every state we got to (for annoying reasons best known to the drivers) and soon we had exhausted the limits of our vocal chords, with tiredness setting in, we began to take differing anatomical positions for what we could make out of sleep. With the exception of the lady that had fallen travel sick, and a few of us that burdened ourselves with knowing our location on BlackBerry map and occasional sign-posts, most of the other fellas had fallen prey to sleep by evening.

                                       

War against hunger wasn't as fierce as imagined. Light feeds, small chops and soft drinks came in handy, keeping the mouth busy and hunger at bay. The tactic was to avoid any attempt to greet the bush for "piss offerings" or any other form of offering. 

Briefly we waited at Kaduna for two buses from our convoy of seven that had lost their way somewhere around Keffi in Nasarawa state. We were lucky to get a Mallam who sold a miserable meal of sun baked bread and over-salted omelette at about 11:39pm for dinner.

                                      

I learnt two critical lessons from my sight-seeing trip to Jos. First was what I choose to brand not as foolishness, but trust and a unique way of life in that traders left their oranges and Irish potatoes shaded on the high way with no fear of theft. Wow! That wasn't fairytopia, I saw it live in Kaduna and in Nigeria.
Beware; do not try this in Lagos, Benin or Onitsha.

The second was that we had always found slight condemnation for our Foladele friend who always held small chops in her bag. But on this very trip I discovered its relevance and so rescind my decision. Choosing to rebrand the action, 'Hunger back up'. 

To be continued...

PS: It's a town, not a village! :P

House of the family by Ephraim O.

Yes, the guys help out...every now and then

I've been meaning to dedicate a post to the NCCF family house, my second home in Iwo, but I keep procrastinating 'cause it feels like one of those posts which would require a day or two to put together. I fear omitting important details as there are endless things to write about. One day, though. One day.

In the meantime, Ephraim, a former housemate, has put one together. Check it out:

Stolen times could be pleasurable especially when it is from the thick of a headache-inducing chore. On this particular day at my workplace, it wasn't a classical case of increased workload but boredom from the routine. Immediately the call came, I didn't bother getting the details from the caller. "Excuse me Ma'am, I've got an emergency situation to handle," I muttered hurriedly, creating an atmosphere of urgency.

Ten minutes later, I was done. It only required penciling down my name and signature. I gazed at the bare floor like an old man afterwards, submerged in thoughts of what to do with the next thirty minutes. Returning immediately to work wasn't an option. The atmosphere of angst still needed to be retained at work by a little delay. Then the thought hit me like a hardball, 'House of the Family!'

When we first got to this town, it was the only place we could call home. And even after most of us have found our various houses, it's still the place we can call home outside our home. The NCCF (Nigerian Christian Corpers' Fellowship) family house. The place Housemate Emma Blu nicknamed 'house of the family', and it stuck like glue. 

And true to my expectations, the house bubbled with excitement and pomp of corpers, not a few. We had 'Bobo' or OmoBOLANLE, as she prefers to be called. Despite her lively nature, she has the knack for defending her beliefs with relentless passion. You want to see the full glare of her gesticulations? Engage her in a debate or argument.

Also present in the house was the cake making trio of DiDi, Rabbi (in trousers) and Kenny. This DiDi guy teaches ladies cake making and other wedding accessories. Though Iwo may not boast of a single fast food joint, a well baked cake from this trio combined with one chilled Chivita. . .who needs Tantalizers or Sizzlers?

The ever conventional Nonso, popularly referred to as 'Uncle' was also present. Hmmm! I can say volumes of him and not be bored. He is a passionate fellow. You may not fancy his persona at first, but you can't deny his importance. I'll describe him as a bone that can neither be chewed nor swallowed.

Emmanuel AKA 'Emma Blu' was also present. Hilarious, principled, unassuming, give him a pair of drum sticks and you have won a spot in his heart. 

What can I say of this enigmatic icon. Folz, Dele, 'Aunty', the names are endless. I'm still yet to find a razzer LADY (note the adjectives and the emphasis) than this. Hardworking, caring, sharing, a good cook, playful, serious (Folz, don't edit any part of this article). She's been a wonderful friend since our first step on Iwo soil. 

The list of housemates still includes the likes of Gerald, Pastor Patrick, Ogbeni of the Federal Republic of Family House AKA Olusegun, Super Shy Mama Eunice, A.Mama Grace, Favour, etc

I had to leave after sharing shouts, songs and teasings with folks present. House of the family…hmm! The only sane place in Iwo with many 'insane' people.

Iwo; its pluses by Ephraim O.

Recently, my friend, Ephraim, who's also passionate about writing, and I were talking about the joys of Iwo. It was actually this conversation that birthed my last post, 10 things I like about Iwo. So, I asked him to write a post, sharing some of his favourite things about the town, too. Below is his piece:

We hopped from the bike cladded in our khaki pants and crested vest that showed we'd just been dispatched to discharge our national assignment, and offered him what we thought was fair for our short trip. A trip from the market to the place where we would call home for the next couple of weeks but with the most genuine smile, he kickstarted his bike and said, "Don't worry". 

"Amazing! Where in Naija does this ever happen?" In Benin, where I come from, you'd wait till your patience turns into longsuffering. We turned and looked at each other, trying to certify our disbelief before walking to our destination. This experience was our swan-song for the next couple of days that followed. This happened on my first day in Iwo. 

If one is a happenstance and two a coincidence, I wonder what name the dictionary would use to accomodate a more than three, four or five occasions of the goodwill and kindness these folks express on a regular basis. For instance, a friend told me of how one of their landlords offered them accomodation at no charge. This is a three-bedroom flat built to satisfy modern taste. How many landlords would do that in lagos or in Benin?

I wouldn't forget hastily that prices for goods and services are valley-deep cheap here. Yes! Some would argue that this is so because Iwo is a town but so what? In the town I am from, prices there would favourably compete with those of Enugu, Ibadan and Onitsha. A N50 trip on a bike here in Iwo is equivalent to N200 or N250 in lagos. Slippers that would cost N1400 in Benin was sold to me at N550 here.

One lasting impression Iwo leaves in my memory bank is the fact that folks here old or young, none stands to receive greetings. Both the greeter and the greeted go down when they exchange pleasantries. Respect being mutual and cordial. I hope my egotistic, money-conscious city fellas get to learn from these folks.

And like I had told a friend the first month we came here, "Iwo is not a mistake". It indeed has been a blessing. 

PS: It's a town, not a village