If Sherlock Holmes were a corps member posted to Benin City, he would have immediately redeployed after his first encounter with the NYSC office signpost. Why? Because the signboard is less of a guide and more of a riddle wrapped in shrubbery.
There it stands – the grand entrance to national service bureaucracy – proudly announcing itself as… “NYSC… something… OFFICE.” The rest of the message? Well, that depends on how many hours you’re willing to wrestle with the two bodyguards posted in front: one coconut tree on probation and one overzealous Christmas tree that refused to retire after December.
Forget fingerprints and magnifying glasses; you’ll need a machete, binoculars, and possibly a UN peacekeeping force to decode the remaining text. NYSC should honestly consider turning this into a qualifying test for corps members: If you can find and read the signboard, congratulations – you’re ready for Nigerian public service!
Of course, some locals insist it’s not really a signboard anymore – it’s an environmental experiment. Others whisper it’s a metaphor: just as the letters on the board are hidden, so too are the true intentions of NYSC hidden from all who serve. Deep.
But the real comedy is in the everyday struggles:
A new corps member, clutching his posting letter, circles the area three times before asking a passerby: “Bros, abeg where NYSC office dey?”
The passerby squints, points at the foliage, and says: “Na there – behind that forest. If you reach the palm tree, you don pass am.”
If the sign could talk, it would probably say:
“Look, if you can’t see me, maybe you’re not yet ready for this journey.”
In the meantime, Google Maps just shakes its head, drops you by the roadside, and says: “Oga, you’re on your own.”
So next time you’re in Benin City, don’t bother looking for the NYSC office signpost – just look for the two trees in a romantic embrace. Behind them lies the entrance to your year of service, hidden in plain sight.
Centre for Nigeria Progress 