If leaving camp felt like the end of a journey, then arriving in Ikere Ekiti was the beginning of a reality I wasn’t prepared for.
On June 2nd, 2024, I packed my bags once again and set out and this time not for a camp experience, but for a life I had to build from scratch.
Of course, it was still Sammie and me. From Aba to Anambra, and then from Anambra to Ado Ekiti, retracing a now familiar but still exhausting route. However, this time felt different. Where there was no returning after three weeks, this was it. At Ado Ekiti, we said our goodbyes. He was headed to his local government, and I to Ikere Ekiti and just like that, I was on my own.
Table of Contents
Starting From Scratch
The next morning, I boarded a bus to Ikere with everything I believed I needed to survive in a place I barely understood.
A new town, a new routine, a language I didn’t speak. What could possibly go wrong?
When I got to my flat, reality wasted no time in introducing itself. I had to clean, arrange my space, set up my kitchen, basically create a life out of empty rooms. However, just when I thought I could at least rest, I was told something that immediately tested my patience: There was no light, not because of a temporary issue but because the community had no transformer. You can imagine the frustration.
A Birthday I’ll Never Forget
After settling in as best as I could, I went to my PPA (Place of Primary Assignment) to inform the principal that I had arrived and would resume the next day.
Simple, right?
Except… that day was a day to my birthday and instead of celebration, I found myself alone, confused, and overwhelmed.
I cried.
That evening, my “pre-birthday meal” was biscuits and a drink because I still hadn’t figured out where to get gas or even buy proper food.
So, tell me, was this how adulthood was supposed to begin?
Adjusting to the Routine
By June 4th which was my birthday, I had officially started teaching.
Every day followed the same pattern, school, home, repeat. However, Thursdays were different. That was CDS (Community Development Service) day, a small break from the routine.
Gradually, something shifted.
After about a month, I found myself stepping outside more often, sitting with people in the community, talking, observing, learning and then, I met Mr. and Mrs. Ojo Akinyemi.
The People Who Became Family
If Ikere gave me anything truly special, it was them. A retired teacher and his wife, they took me in like their own daughter. They checked on me, guided me, and made sure I never felt completely alone. In a place that once felt foreign, they became my comfort and honestly, what is survival without people?
School, Students, and Small Joys
At school, I built cordial relationships with my colleagues. Anyways, it was my students especially the JSS3 class that made the experience meaningful. I didn’t just teach them, I connected with them.
They became like younger siblings to me, and in those moments, teaching felt less like a duty and more like a privilege.
But was it always smooth?
Of course not.
The Hard Days
I fell sick often, probably due to the change in environment, water, and overall lifestyle.
Despite that, nothing prepared me for the emotional blow that came next.
I lost my father and at that moment all I wanted was to go home but NYSC had its own plans, one that required approval from the LGI.
Mine refused and when I called, hoping for understanding, he said something I will never forget: “Are you the first person to lose your father?”
That moment stayed with me. It was painful, frustrating, and honestly, inhumane.
Still, I left because sometimes, you choose yourself.
The Beauty – Ikere Ekiti
However, it wasn’t all pain.
There were beautiful moments too, moments that made everything worth it. I made friends, I laughed, I explored. I even attempted to learn Yoruba… although, truthfully, I wasn’t consistent enough to master it.
I tried local dishes like pounded yam and efo riro, and slowly, I began to understand the culture around me.
Ikere wasn’t just a place, it was a story.
Culture, Myths, and Experiences
I witnessed masquerade festivals, each one unique, each representing something deeper. Apparently, every community had its own masquerade, appearing at specific times to display what many believed were gifts from the gods.
Strange? Maybe. Fascinating? Absolutely.
Then there was Orole Hill, a mountain with a story that felt straight out of legend.
They said it once protected the people of Ikere during a battle with the Oyo Kingdom rising from a small rock into something massive, forcing enemies to their defeat.
Myth or history? Who knows? But one thing was certain, Ikere was rich in stories.
An Experience I’ll Never Forget.
One shocking moments of my stay happened during a visit to the palace for a festival. We were told women must cover their hair, so we dressed properly in our NYSC uniforms and we greeted the king when he beckoned.
And then… He motioned towards me.
Now, here’s the thing, traditionally in Ikere Ekiti, if the king “marches” your leg, you automatically become his wife. So tell me… what would you have done?
I avoided it, completely.
However, that decision didn’t sit well with some people in the community. They called me ungrateful, even foolish andd that I do not like anything good in life, only because i reffused to allow the king choose me as his wife.
But let’s be honest, how do you marry a king in a place that isn’t even your home?
A Full Circle Moment
Months passed.
What once felt strange slowly became familiar. The roads I didn’t know, I began to recognize. The people I once struggled to understand, I began to connect with. Even the discomfort that defined my early days in Ikere started to feel like part of my story rather than a burden and then, before I knew it, it was time.
March 21st, 2025: my Passing Out Parade (POP).
That day meant everything not just because it marked the end of my service year, but because it reminded me of how far I had come. From the girl who cried on her birthday, confused and overwhelmed, to someone who had built a life in a completely unfamiliar place. I was happy, truly happy.
Not the kind of happiness that comes from excitement alone, but the deep, quiet kind that comes from growth, from endurance, from knowing you didn’t give up, even when it got hard.
Standing there, I couldn’t help but reflect: Was this the same person who was scared of Ekiti?The same person who almost didn’t come?
Life has a funny way of changing you when you step into places you never planned for.
Finding Meaning in the Chaos
Beyond all the ups and downs, Ikere taught me things I didn’t expect. I learned resilience, I learned independence, I learned how to exist outside my comfort zone, I bathed with well water for the first time (and hopefully the last). I adapted and I grew.
So, was it easy? No. Was it worth it? Absolutely. Ikere Ekiti gave me experiences I will never forget, some painful, some beautiful, all necessary and I can prouudly say, I didn’t just serve.
I evolved.
