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Excitement took over my mood as I printed my call-up letter for my one year National Youth Service. DT/UNN/2014/238826. That was my call-up number and the DT meant I was posted to Delta state. The Niger-Delta region of Nigeria with so many stories of unrest; kidnapping, illegal oil bunkering and militancy. It was the second time I would be travelling to this part of the country, but the particular community of service was probably going to be new. For a second, the thought of life in a strange and potentially harsh environment sent a cold shudder to my spine. But I was consoled with the fact that I had experienced a part of the lifestyle of the locals in the robust city of Warri where I visited before. Anyhow, I set out to my community of primary assignment hoping for the best. While on the way from the local government headquarters, my mood was lowered again by the sight of tick forests and scanty village settlements till we arrived at the premises of the school where I was posted to serve for one year. I am certainly not serving in this community was the expression written all over me as I peeped from one corner of the bushy area to another. The security man at the gate sneered back as he suggested people had served here before me and left successfully. While I strolled to the lodge on the tarred roads that connected the capital town of Delta with Sapele, I noticed the locals had begun cultivation even though it was in the middle of winter. The ground was soft with a mixture of sandy-loamy soil while some soils at some areas looked white. In all, the vegetation looked healthy enough. I smiled at the prospect of engaging into farming should I eventually stay in this community. The sight of the lodge relieved me in a bit, but the interior which was littered with bats droppings irritated me. While life in this community was not exciting and lively, the locals here were supportive and welcoming. Periodic gifts of plantain, cassava flakes and smoked fish always came from them. Despite the earlier notion that mingling with the female folk was dangerous as one could fall victim to the locals who may be their spouse or fiances, the womenfolk seemed to cherish mingling with me as much as I tried to avoid them. Life eventually went on to be fun in this little strange community. I would later take up some pieces of land to farm and also go fishing with the locals in the community. I was in awe of their natural gift of fish of different species which were perhaps washed by the floods from the river Niger. No river was at sight in the particular forest we went fishing in, but hand dug ponds and excavations caused by the uprooting of big trees by erosion served as habitat to these big aquatic creatures we went in search of. While a lot of species of crops were not common in the community too, I introduced them through my farms. Cucumbers, Water melon and tomatoes and even ground nuts. When my one year of service came to an end eventually, I noticed I felt hard leaving. Though my spouse and family were long expecting my return, it became obvious that I had been at home away from my home all the while.