THE CLARION CALL
Copyright © 2025 by Amadi C.O.P.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
Published by:
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Published in the Federal Republic of Nigeria
CONTENTS
DedicationAcknowledgementIntroduction
Chapter 1The Clarion CallChapter 2Journey from the SouthChapter 3Camp WailoChapter 4The PPAChapter 5Life at the Games VillageChapter 6StrandedChapter 7₦19,800 Allowee?Chapter 8The SummonsChapter 9The Long NightChapter 10The Clarion Call (Finale)
EpilogueAbout the Author
DEDICATION
To everyone who wore the khaki with hope in their eyes and courage in their hearts - this is for you.
To my parents, who taught me the value of humility and service.
To the friends I met along the way - the laughter, the fear, the faith - you made the journey worth it.
And to God, who turned every dry season into a testimony.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
I am deeply grateful to all those who made this memoir possible.
To my fellow corps members in Bauchi - thank you for sharing your stories, your laughter, and your resilience. You were more than colleagues; you were family.
To my supervisors and mentors at the Ministry of Health, your patience and guidance reminded me that impact often begins in small, unseen acts.
To my friends and loved ones who encouraged me to write, rewrite, and relive these moments - thank you for believing in the beauty of memory.
And to every Nigerian youth who continues to serve with dignity despite the odds - this book is your reflection, your courage, your voice.
INTRODUCTION
When I received my call-up letter, I imagined adventure - a new world of friendships, service, and purpose wrapped neatly in khaki and pride. I had rehearsed the anthem, pictured the smiling faces, and believed the stories that said the National Youth Service Corps was a bridge to maturity.
But as the months unfolded, I learned that service was not about uniforms or slogans. It was about people - real, flawed, beautiful people - and the unplanned lessons that life taught in dust, heat, laughter, and silence.
The Clarion Call is not a story about perfection. It’s about becoming - about how a young man from the South found himself in Northern Nigeria, learning that faith, friendship, and resilience often grow where comfort ends.
In Bauchi State, every day carried a lesson. Some were loudly shouted through chaos, politics, and fear. Others came quietly through the kindness of strangers, the stillness after long nights, and the shared laughter that outlived hardship.
This memoir is for every corps member who ever stood in line under the sun, wondering if the system still cared. For every youth who looked beyond the cracks and saw possibility. For everyone who has served or will serve - not just a nation, but humanity in its rawest form.
Because at the end of the year, the anthem is no longer just a song. It becomes a memory - a promise kept, a test survived, a story worth telling.
This is my story. This is our story. This is The Clarion Call.
1
THE CLARION CALL
“Keep quiet!” Reverend Moji’s voice exploded through the room. His finger jabbed toward the door as if it were a weapon.
Amadi froze. He had walked into the office seeking fairness, maybe even mercy. Instead, he got humiliation.
“Go seek spiritual deliverance for your misfortunes,” the Reverend sneered, his lips curling. “Because I was kind enough to let you in here, you think you can argue with me? Small boy like you. Get out!”
Amadi wanted to shout to let his rage spill across the room and silence the arrogance that sat behind that desk. But his chest betrayed him. The sound he managed was no roar, no thunder. Just a shallow sigh, swallowed by the air.
***
Whispers That Burned
They said he was too proud.
They said maybe he wasn’t so holy after all.
Some said he should beg or bribe.
Amadi heard it all - the mockery, the false sympathy, the gossip whispered in corners. Words that felt like salt on a fresh wound.