DIARY OF A CORPER — EPISODE 16: MORE THAN A CORPER

I resumed work on Monday morning.

As soon as I got to the office, my last embarrassment flashed through my mind, but I quickly pushed it aside. I was returning with a positive mindset.

To my relief, Chioma was there.

The three weeks she spent at NYSC camp made me realise how attached I had become to her.

The office was still the same—the serious, busy environment the director had created since he arrived.

We had a brief general meeting that morning. I avoided the director as much as possible. I didn't want any eye contact with him.

After the meeting, I exchanged pleasantries with some people in my department.

Mr. John stopped by my desk and asked if I had enjoyed my break.

Thank God for that man. From giving me permission to travel home to cutting me some slack whenever I needed it, he made life in that office bearable.

I was at my desk when Chioma came over and gave me her usual gist about everything that had happened in the office while I was away.

Later, she returned to her department.

I thought it was going to be another normal day of files and errands.

Then, at noon, Mr. John came to inform me that the director was asking for me.

I froze.

The director was asking for me?

Why?

"What happened?" I asked, confused.

Mr. John only smiled and walked away.

One thousand and one reasons rushed through my mind.

Did he know I travelled?

Did he want to complain that I had been skipping work—which, to be honest, wasn't completely false?

When he first resumed, I was on sick leave. Then came Femi's accident, and now I had just returned after spending two weeks at home.

Hmm.

Dewa, it seems you are in trouble.

When I got to the director's office, the outer office door was closed, but I didn't bother knocking because Chioma had already told me his secretary was away. So I opened it and stepped inside. His office door, which was next to the secretary's desk, was open.

Mr. John was already there.

"Good morning, sir," I said, expecting the worst.

"Good morning. Sit," he said without looking at me.

I sat beside Mr. John, cautiously facing the director, my palms already beginning to sweat.

"Mr. John said you're good at writing."

He finally looked up at me.

I blinked.

What was going on?

It turned out that the director needed someone to help him prepare a speech he was to deliver at a summit the following day.

His secretary had already gone on maternity leave, and Mr. John had casually mentioned to the director that I had once helped him transcribe a long audio recording and had also taken minutes during one of our departmental meetings. He believed I would be able to handle it.

I was sure the director only agreed because he had no other choice.

After all, to him, I was the "unserious corper."

He explained how he wanted the speech to be structured, gave me a few points to include, mentioned some statistical records that needed to be added, and told me it had to be ready before 10 a.m. the next day.

I returned to my department and got to work immediately.

I rewrote the draft several times.

It was a long speech because he was the keynote speaker. The speech had a serious tone, but I wanted it to be slightly engaging while still maintaining its official nature.

It wouldn't be nice if people fell asleep halfway through.

I know how it can be. I have attended quite a few events where I wanted the speaker to just shut up. This was not going to happen on my watch.

I put in my best.

International Relations taught me many things, but writing had always been the one thing that came naturally to me. Long before NYSC, long before this office, words had always been my safe place.

I finished writing, read through it again, and felt satisfied with what I had produced.

I hoped the director would feel the same way.

I used the computer in my office to type the speech, printed it out, and neatly arranged it in a file.

Before closing time, I was done.

I walked to the director's office and knocked.

Without waiting for a response, I stepped inside.

He looked up from what he was doing.

"Do you need something?" he asked.

"No, sir. I'm done."

"Done?"

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

"Yes, sir."

I walked closer and placed the file on his desk.

He picked it up and began reading.

For a while, the office was very quiet.

Too quiet.

I sat there, wondering if I had missed something or made a terrible mistake.

Then he looked up.

"You wrote this?"

"Yes, sir."

"What did you study?"

"International Relations."

He looked at the speech again.

"Interesting."

He continued reading, occasionally nodding.

After a while, he smiled.

"This is very well written."

For a second, I wondered if I had heard him correctly.

"I really love what I'm seeing. Even I am captivated by it, and I'll be the one delivering the speech."

He looked at me again.

"Well done."

Those two words meant more to me than he probably realised.

He called Mr. John into the office and showed him the speech, openly expressing how impressed he was.

I quietly excused myself and returned to my department.

By then, it was already closing time.

Bassey and Chioma were waiting at my desk.

As I packed my things, Chioma asked what I had been up to. 

I explained everything.

"Seriously?" Chioma asked, her eyes widening.

I nodded.

"Awwn, I'm so happy for you," she said with a smile.

Bassey chuckled. "So you've been hiding this talent from us."

I smiled before turning to Bassey.

"Has Femi gone?"

Bassey nodded.

"Yeah. He left not too long ago."

"Oh."

Femi would just disappear as if we didn't even live in the same lodge.

Before I could think much about it, Mr. John walked in and handed me some money.

"The director said I should give this to you for your transport."

Before leaving, he added, "Since his secretary isn't around, you'll temporarily take over some of her duties. That means running official errands and assisting him with administrative work."

Bassey and Chioma exchanged excited glances.

Chioma clapped her hands. "Dewa! I knew something good was going to come out of today."

Bassey smiled.

"See our director's secretary. Just don't forget us when you become the deputy director o."

I laughed.

"I've not even started, and both of you have promoted me already."

Chioma grinned.

"Maybe they'll even put you on the government's payroll as the director's secretary."

Her excitement was enough to lift the roof.

Ideally, corpers were rarely placed in that kind of position.

"You can even get retained," Bassey added.

Hmm.

I wasn't sure.

Did I want that?

When I got home, I looked down at the money Mr. John had given me and counted it.

Five thousand naira.

Wow.

I couldn't believe that the same man who had almost driven me to tears was now giving me a reason to smile.

And strangely, I wasn't just happy because of the praise or the money.

I was happy because, for the first time in a long while, something I genuinely loved had spoken for me.

Perhaps I had come to Lokoja to be more than just another corper.

End of Episode 16

To be continued…

 

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Next: ➡️Episode 17: You Can Tell Me Anything