This is day two of me living in the national youth service camp for the next twenty-one days, and I'm already convinced that women do not deserve to be in a place of power, at least not Nigerian women.
Don't get me wrong, this isn't a post against women in general, but a post about my personal experience with women in power and how poorly and wickedly those creatures can be when they want to.
Again, I hold nothing against women; I just keep suffering from them. In the past I've written about my school days and how the non-academic staff, who are mostly always women, made life hell for me.
Well, fast-forward to the present time, and it didn't even take them more than two days to remind us of how wicked some of them can be.
What happened was that basically, on your first three days in camp, you would have to go through a verification process. If you're among those who came to the camp on time, you might end up getting registered quickly.
I did arrive at the camp on time, but someone at the gate messed up the procedure, and rather than giving out the numbers sequentially, he had mixed it up and ended up giving me a number very far away. So I spent the whole of yesterday doing nothing but just waiting around for them to get to my number so that I could begin my registration process.
That ended up not happening, so I rushed there early this morning and spent the entire day there too. Sometime around 6pm this evening, I was eventually done with most of the process and was at the last stage; that was where I met this lady.
The same document I had passed around to every other official, and they accepted this lady looked at it and decided she didn't like it. She asked me to go get a new one, which she knew would cost me money and time, but I went anyway.
By the time I got back, I noticed there was now a fresh group of people standing right in front of her table, waiting to be attended by her. But seeing how I was there already and she was halfway through with my papers, I had thought she would push me to the front and just get done with me.
But instead, she had asked me to get to the back of the line and wait for my turn. If this wasn't important, this was the time I probably would have walked away from the whole thing, but this was indeed important, and there wasn't any way for me to walk out. It was, after all, a camp, and the gates were sealed for the next three weeks.
So I went to the back of the line and waited for my turn. But luckily for me, a man who also happens to be her boss had walked in and saw me at the back of the line. It surprised him because he knew when I first walked in and how long I've been waiting (this was more than an hour ago of me waiting), so he had asked the lady to bring me to the front and attend to me.
The moment I heard that, I was livid, but to my surprise, after she went through my files one last time, she murmured under her breath that if her boss hadn't asked her to let me go, I would have gone to reprint another file again because for some reason she didn't like the way the other one looked.
Of course I aid nothing, wrote down my names, completed my verification and walked out of there as quickly as I could before she changed her mind and decides to continue tormenting me.
