CLARION CALL

By Talabi Tofunmi Timothy

CLARION CALL

member on parade ground (picture by Talabi Tofunmi)

Fizzy  stormed out of her hostel, followed by other girls. The bugle had been blown too close to her window and with a frown on her face, she swore loudly and smoothened her clothes. “One can’t have peace here”, she thought to herself. She dragged her feet and tried to stretch.

“Double up, double up. If you are walking you’re wrong.” She heard a soldier call in front of her. Other girls started jogging towards the yelling soldier. Failure to follow suit would make her do fifty hunches or frog jump as the case may be. “Who get time for hunches?” she said to herself and started jogging too.

She got to the parade ground and tried finding her platoon members. The place was filled with other corp members like herself. Dressed in the usual white shirt and shorts with the NYSC caps placed on their heads. In no time, she made it to her platoon members’ stand and whispered hello to a few and smiled at some corp members.

Making friends wasn’t on her mind, she was comfortable with the few she had met from the beginning of the service year and was still trying to know them. The orientation programme was to her a waste of time, it could have been fun if it had happened at the right time. But for the first time in the history of the National Youth Service Corps, corp members already posted to their places of primary assignments were brought back to camp because they didn’t have full 3 weeks orientation exercise; thanks to Ebola virus.

Ebola virus, a deadly epidemic that raided Nigeria along with other countries killing people faster than the dreaded HIV/AIDS disrupted the NYSC calender and thus, they had a week to register after which they were posted. The Federal government however promised to look into it and assured them that they would not miss out on the exercise. She shivered as she thought of the virus now, it was a specter.

Obeying the clarion call seemed to change her life, a call to serve her fatherland and make her own contributions as a citizen of Nigeria. Only those who have completed their degree programmes at tertiary institutions are eligible to answer the clarion call. She had looked forward to it her whole life, thoughts of being dressed in the khaki trouser, khaki shirts to match, NYSC crested vest, belt, cap and the jungle boots had flashed across her mind as a little girl. And when the chance to serve finally came, she received it with lethargy. She pulled at the ID card tag on her neck wildly. Everything was annoying. Being woken up at 4 AM for meditation and parade was something she told herself she could never get used to. The whole programme was regimented. You couldn’t even afford to go pee, there would be someone somewhere doing that same thing as you. She wanted her space, she had complained severally but was told one of the goals of bringing them together was to build their tolerance level. And the ration of food served in the kitchen…oh please. She rolled her eyes. She went to the kitchen once and couldn’t find the piece of meat served. She remembered chewing something as she ate the rice, but she thought it was diced meat. She was shocked to discover that was the main meat.

“Get down, get down”

She looked forward to see other corp members sitting on the ground. Her eyes popped out in amazement. She shook her head. “Are you kidding me?” she didn’t hear herself speak until he answered.

“Babe, sit down” he offered her a handkerchief to sit on. She took it from him, laid it on the floor then sat.

“Thank you” she smiled exposing her rabbit like front teeth. He nodded and smiled at her, looked her over, raised an eyebrow and looked away with a shrug. He folded his knees to rest his hands on them. She observed him for a few seconds then rested her eyes on something else. She made a mental note of things happening around her. A wild thought came to her mind and she giggled.

“Excuse me?” the gentleman beside her spoke. She turned her dancing eyes on him. She didn’t know what to say so she kept smiling.

“I’m sorry, it’s nothing serious.” She managed to say

“Humour me.” He quizzed, smiling too.

“It’s a crazy thought, who knows the different shapes of heads the caps we wear is concealing?”

He laughed softly and shook his head. “You are weird. Why would you think that?” he asked looking at her closely. She shrugged and looked away. She didn’t like the way his eyes bored into hers. It was like he could see down her soul. The sun shone on her face and her skin looked golden from the reflection.

“I’m Toftab" He said stretching his hand

“Fizzy" She placed her hand in his.

“So it’s official,” he smiled. “Since you want to see the various shapes of heads here, why don’t you start with mine?” as he took off his cap. Fizzy smiled as she looked at him. His features without the cap was pronounced and she swallowed severally before she managed to laugh at her own embarrassment. They got talking and before the end of that day, they were inseparable.

The days dragged and she had the time to know Toftab better. She liked everything about him. She got to appreciate John Legend’s ‘All of me’ more with him. She dreaded the much talked about lectures, but when they got to that part of the camp activity, she found out she was not alone. They held hands and she couldn’t doubt in her mind that she felt something for him. His fingers rubbed the skin of her hand and she stiffened. Her heart was racing, why was he drawing patterns on her skin? Is he aware of the reaction his action is causing? She turned her head slowly and looked into his eyes trying to find answers to the questions in her head. His expression was set and grim, he stared back at her, yet, he didn’t stop what he was doing. She swallowed hard, lost for words and afraid her body would betray her.

“Fizzy, relax.” He spoke softly. Although the hall was noisy, she heard him clearly. He let go of her hand and put his hand behind her chair. Using that same hand, he brought her head to rest on his shoulder. Different thoughts flashed through her head. What was it that she saw in his eyes?

They concentrated on the lecture and when it was over, she wanted to run to her hostel. He took hold of her hand and she stopped. “Lunch?” he asked softly. She looked at his dark face, well carved brow that shielded the most sensual eyes she had ever seen, his lips; perfect, compared to her own full lower lips and his jaw with the tiny beards gathered there.

“Lunch?” he asked again this time tugging at her hand. She moved uneasily.

“Nah, I’ll pass” she declined. They had shared lunch and dinner at Mami market several times so it wasn’t a big deal. But that afternoon, she wasn’t sure she could let his gaze burn her longer than necessary. She made it to the room and laid on her bed. She closed her eyes but couldn’t sleep, she wasn’t at peace. She plugged the ear phones into her ears and allow herself drown as Emeli Sande’s ‘Beneath your beautiful’ flooded her head. She got a sweet relief from the song and placed it on repeat. She couldn’t tell for how long she laid there, floating, when her bunkie tapped her to get prepared for parade. She touched up her makeup and smiled at her reflection. She walked slowly to the parade ground not knowing what to say to him.

Toftab was there, waiting. He smiled at her and urged her to join him. She obliged and he launched into a conversation targeted at helping her relax. She didn’t seem to follow until she felt his hand circle her tiny waist.

“Do I scare you? Do you think I wanna toil with your emotions” he had brought the topic up himself and she was glad he did. She heard herself speak and rushed up everything in one breathe. She wasn’t sure she made any sense at all. He spun her round to face him and her head reeled from the movement.

“Fizzy, I want so much from you. I’ve learned to love you like a friend, allow me to love you like my woman” he said softly. A guy passing by overheard him and laughed out.

“This one don dey love up o”

“Guy, waka pass, no burst my bubble” Toftab retorted without taking his eyes off fizzy. Relieved, she laughed and pulled his cheek playfully.

“Allow me to be the archaic lady. I like you already, but I’ll think about it.” She giggled.

“Fair enough.” He responded smiling. From that moment they were the platoon couple. They had so much fun together. The variety night came and the Miss NYSC and Mr. Macho were selected. Before they knew it, the three weeks orientation was drawing to an end. They were left with mixed feelings, the programme had molded their lives and had brought out so many qualities she didn’t think she possessed. She didn’t want to leave Toftab, they had different PPAs, they were from the same  tribes living in the different towns in Lagos  and she wasn’t sure what laid ahead of them. Being a crapehanger, she expressed her concerns about their star-crossed love. He understood and tried to calm her down.

The camp fire night came, she clung to him all through, afraid of letting go. The fire was so huge her eyes danced with excitement as she watched, Toftab couldn’t take his eyes off her. They had found a quiet place to sit. She looked flawless as she sat, pulchritudinous. He touched her then, moving his hand up and down the entire length of her hand. The hair on her neck were on tentacles. She could feel his breathe on her skin, hot, rash, short and laboured. He kept caressing her hand as he planted a kiss on her shoulder. He stopped when he noticed she responded to his sexual moves with equanimity. He didn’t want her to think of him as a sycophant, he thought he saw desire in her eyes. He must have read her wrongly. He rubbed his head in exasperation and stood, he looked at her poised even as she sat and walked away slowly. She went after him.

“Toftab" wait up, let’s talk” she said holding his hand.

“It’s okay, don’t say anything. You are not ready” he said not looking at her. He felt rejected. She moved closer to him and planted a kiss on his lips. That ignited the fire of passion within him. She didn’t know what her touch, tugs, smiles does to him. He was having a hard time keeping his hands off her. He had watched the mounds of flesh on her chest as she laughed, he had felt the hard, tout peaks of her breast as she hugged him. But kissing him, he wanted to explode as he felt his groin respond. He drew her to him and kissed her. Softly at first, then later fiercely. She had kissed him back wildly. He was starting to raise his hands to her breasts when she pushed him back.

“Wait, not here” she said huskily. “This isnt the place.”

This was torture, he had beads of sweat form on his forehead. How could she stop him now? “Let’s go to Mami then.” He said pulling her hand in the talked direction.

“What? Are you out of your mind? That is wrong. Look, I don’t want us to flout the rules here” she protested. He heard her whisper some things to him to soothe him. He only felt the ardor. He knew the implication of these things. The bugle was blown and everyone started dispersing. They heard the man o’war songs from afar yet they didn’t let go of each other till a soldier started coming in their direction.

“I’ll miss you…” her tears fell and touched his hand. He didn’t know she had been crying. Too late, the soldier reached them and he had to let her go. He was livid, he wished he could hold her to his chest that night.

The following day was passing out parade. Corp members scurried around. Bags were seen in every corner. The programme seemed too long for the eager corp members who wanted to inhale the air outside the gate. The air of freedom. Both of them were matching, he was behind her. He saw that she was dull and moody, not the radiant lady that made him break all codes and rules. He didn’t take his eyes off her even as they removed head dressing in honour of the governor. The NYSC anthem was sang depicting the end of the programme. She knew this couldn’t end this way. She sighed and joined in singing the last line of the anthem.

“Nigeria’s ours, Nigeria we serve”. Few minutes later, they were all ready to leave. She hugged Toftab tightly, she didn’t feel ashamed as tears washed her face.

“I promise I’ll find you fizzy, I promise.” He kissed her forehead as she allowed herself cry to oblivion. He opened her palm and dropped a chain in her hand. It was beautiful.