I followed a friend to the park as he’s going back to the north for his national service year. As they queued to buy bus ticket I can’t but wonder how our lives are full of queues.
A man’s attempt to get a wife is paused by several toll gates. He asks her out and waits for days to get a response. He tries to beat queue with several surprises. Trying so much to surpass other suitors and when he finally gets her to himself, he believes the queue is over.
After marriage, he fires shots! Many don’t make it to the post; still he keeps up the good job till the target is met. So now the wife is pregnant, the real queuing had just started at the clinics. She queues from one birth process to the other, starting from the gate post. Yes the gate post! The driver of the car before hers had decided to have a chit chat with the gateman. Since tipping is going to be involved; the world could wait, who cares? Parking space is the next queue spot. Queuing just had to be very important.
She gives birth to this bouncing baby who is welcomed by queues. So many people want to see; some want to hold, some just peep at Baby. They take turns, they pile gifts; they watch him grow with the mother. They back him on queues. So he grows in years and pre-school had to be his first real encounter of ‘lining up’.
As he grows in age and moves from class to class, the lining up becomes very boring. Running errands informs him of the menace of queue. His rounds at the filling stations gives him first hand lessons in queue jumping. He finishes secondary school; sits for many jambs, waiting for the one admission, queuing up for his turn. It turns spiritual!
He eventually gets admitted and the long queue will not vanish. First year registration process can be killing, many gets sick. He breaks through all the varsity troubles, shedding off the departmental waits. Filling NYSC mobilization form took a full day; orientation camp registration couldn’t do less. From camp to clearance, CDS, etc the queues remain.
When he is finally free from the shackles of NYSC, labour market queue has no ending like the bottomless pit. He toils from one interview to another; queuing up. He wants to despair but how dare he? After all, he is not the only one living this life; even his parents had their fair share of the queuing life. He braces up; knowing there are many more queues ahead of him.
This circle of queuing is our life. Put a man in a small position and he will bring in queue. Don’t we just love it? And I perceive a queue in hell; don’t be surprised if it gets to heaven.

Capturing this journey called Life in text, frames...

Discussion2 Comments

  1. methinks there's a message you wrote for/to you in the paragraph 'breaking the shackles of NYSC'..re-read.

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