Chapter 5 Echoes of the Bugle

The bugle sounded before dawn.

Ameerah stirred under her wrapper, blinking into the quiet hum of the camp. The clock hadn't struck 5:00 AM, yet the female lodge was already alive. Girls whispered, buckets clanged, and slippers shuffled softly across the concrete floor.

She sat up slowly, unsure of what came next.

Should she follow the girls heading to the bathroom now, or wait? The uncertainty only lasted a moment. She reached for a provided bucket, adjusted her head cover, and stepped into the cool early morning air.

Outside, she joined the line at the large septic water tank, waiting patiently to fill her bucket. The air carried the crisp silence of early dawn. When it was her turn, she filled her bucket and returned to the crowded bathroom, where girls were already waiting for their turns at the shared cubicles.

Inside the bathroom, she moved quickly. The water was icy cold, but she endured it with quiet strength. Immediately after bathing, she returned to her room and changed into her white NYSC shorts and shirt, slipping on her white foam canvas shoes, the kind best suited for camp drills so you can easily wash it clean always. She love how fitted the shoes are on her feet. She quietly adjusted her dressing, smoothing her hijab over her shoulders. Everything felt a bit strange, but she reminded herself - this was just the beginning.

The bugle sounded just as she finished dressing - a rythmic call that echoed across the camp.

But before heading to the Pavilion, she knew what mattered most.

She made her way to the Masjid, drawn to the peace she knew she'd find there. The sky was still dark, but the quiet hum of others moving toward their prayers filled her with calm. She joined the other sisters in the mosque, performed her prayer with focus, and whispered her pray carefully and clearly, seeking ALLAH's guidance in this new place.

Only then did she rise, adjust her dressing again, and walk toward the Pavilion.

By the time she arrived, the space was already filled with corps members. Some stood alone, others in groups. Conversations floated in the air - greetings, nervous laughter, quiet jokes.

But the instructors and officials hadn't arrived yet. Everyone was still waiting.

She found a small space beside two sisters also wearing white hijabs and offered a warm smile. They responded kindly, and a light conversation followed - nothing deep, just gentle words to ease the silence of the first morning.

Eventually, voices began to call out commands.

The instructors had arrived.

They began directing corps members to line up in rows, according to height. Soldiers and Man O' War officers flanked the field like guardians of order.

Then the drills commenced by the director himself. It started with light stretches, followed by a slow jog, and soon, the entire Pavilion echoed with laughter when the Director began singing as the warm-up continued:

> "I do like this! I do like that! I balance well! I balance well!" And when the body is being shaken "Jiji the body! Jiji the body! I balance well, I balance well!"

The rhythm was strange but enjoyable with the jumping, waist swings and squats. Grown adults - some bankers, some engineers, some full of life experience - now danced and chanted like children.

Ameerah couldn't help but smile.

She didn't speak much, but in that moment, moving in unison with strangers, something shifted. The stiffness of the first day softened. Laughter rose like sunlight through morning haze. Even her discomfort about the dress began to ease.

Later, corps members were divided into platoons according to the first letter of their last name. Ameerah was assigned to Platoon 5. New faces, new names, new possibilities.

She stood there, surrounded by hundreds, yet held a quiet faith in her heart.

She was posted far from home. She was surrounded by the unfamiliar. But maybe, just maybe - she was exactly where she was meant to be.

After being shared to Platoon, it was already quite bright. There was no wristwatch at hand. They were told to go have their breakfast but to return for SAED lectures by 10 a.m.

She wondered if there would ever be an end to these gatherings, but looking at the podium and how massive the Pavilion was, she guessed not.

They were dispersed, and as she walked, she heard a voice call out behind her.

"Ameerah! Wait."

She turned. It was her bunkmate, Aisha-a dark, average-height girl with an easy smile. Ameerah waited as Aisha caught up, and they walked silently, observing the world around them.

It was fascinating.

A group of people from different tribes, cultures, religions, appearances, and skin tones, yet they all wore the same uniform: white tops, white shorts, white shoes, and white socks. Hundreds of people from both genders moving in one rhythm-serving their country.

When they reached the lodge, they grabbed their food flasks and green cards and headed for breakfast. Choosing a shorter queue, they soon saw the meal being served-bread and tea with a boiled egg.

This was new for Ameerah. She had seen people buy bread and eggs during her travels, but she never imagined it as a full meal option.

When it got to her turn, she was poured a cup of tea-not thick, not watery, just bland-and handed a small loaf of bread and a boiled egg.

She rejoined Aisha.

"Imagine this combination. This is quite funny," Ameerah said, laughing.

They continued discussing the food's quality as they returned to their lodge, only to find their bunkmates having the same conversation. Apparently, the surprise was shared.

Ameerah climbed to her bunk, peeled her egg, ate it with the bread, and drank the tea. She was full.

Then she lay back, closed her eyes, and tried to rest as the murmurs of the room filled the air around her.