I had a conversation with an outgoing national service personnel. She did a great job at her post and was nursing the ambition of being given an opportunity to stay on. She managed to secure a two or so month extension. It wasn’t what she had hoped for, but was needlessly grateful as it helped in keeping her mind away from boredom while she hoped fortune smiled at her. She knew it was going to be tough, but didn’t allow that to occupy her mind. After all, she’s got something going for the interim, albeit short. Her focus was, therefore, to keep going until the wheels came off, if I am to put it that way.
Then one fine morning, after getting into the office and logging into a server to begin the day’s activity, she got an email from the Human Resources (HR) division of the company. The message was directed to those who were asked to stay on; your last day at work is so so and so date.
She read the first line and brushed it off. She forced herself to think it was a mistake; but unfortunately, it was real – her time was about coming to an end, and she had to think about the next move. The truth is, no job was waiting for her even if she was given additional days to put herself together. I texted her on WhatsApp and told her: “Everything will be fine”. She responded: “Hmmmm”. Her situation was not new, and not limited to any specific batch that had to complete the mandatory service exercise; but it is an issue that should engage our minds as a people.
I did my national service in Cape Coast on the University campus (and I must say I never received my per diem for the period I served, and haven’t received a pesewa to this day), and never had any sleepless nights of getting a job, so I thought. I had done campus radio, reported for some of the major media outlets in the country, built some profile for myself and was optimistic of landing a job.
I thought the jobs will be coming to me with the snap of my fingers. I was also teaching English, social studies and arts at a community school. The latter was pro bono and I was excited to do that. So on the account of what I considered to be a brilliant portfolio, I knew one leg was already at the job market. I was just waiting to finish and add the one remaining leg to it, then take off with a smile.
With one way ticket on the STC bus, I said goodbye to Cape Coast and headed off to Tema, where I was then living with my elder brother. I also came back with only GH¢100 in my wallet – it was good money back then. Now back home, I rested for a month. I occupied myself with radio and books, any other thing had no space in my life. I was single and didn’t care much about going out to ‘toast’ a woman. After a month of rest, I walked into an office I was sure a job was waiting for me. I was asked to bring my resumé and was scheduled for an interview.
I did the interview and was given the usual “you will hear from us” line. I had a SIM card but no mobile phone; the best way was for me to go and check on my application. This was after two months of not hearing anything. I went in and right after the front desk I was told to go home and come back later. I waited for another month. I went there for the last time, but no one bothered to see me. After a while – I think about two or so months – I stopped going there. The little money left had been spent on transportation. I was broke.
I began looking for work. I landed one with an NGO but after two months, I left. The environment was toxic, with colleagues undermining one another in order to win the heart of the boss.
The salary I took at the end of the month had finished. I needed to find something. There was a bookshop in the corner where I lived; so to kill time, I would go there to read. With time, I became friends with the owner who offered me a two week sit-in as a bookseller. After two weeks and jobless, I went shopping from place to place, looking for work. For almost two years, I went on a search for work. I wanted a job, not just any job. However, my circumstance did not even merit the right to have a choice, so far as job availability was concerned.
An encounter with a friend around the now defunct Busy Internet changed everything. I was back and running as a newspaper reporter. It did not take long before foreign freelance gigs started coming my way. And it came with good money.
The first gig fetched me US$2k and it was for two weeks. Then international travels for work, all paid for, followed. My work got me recommendations, and visiting foreign journalists found it comfortable working with me. They also paid me well. Travelling opportunities soon followed.
From the beautiful Italian coast of Sardinia to Paris, Oslo to Copenhagen, Bonn to Johannesburg and more, I became a resourceful professional colleague, and they became my biggest blessings. There were also the few Ghanaians who lifted me up with words and cash when my economic knees started getting weak. I shared part of my story with her (national service person) with the hope it will inspire her to shake off the anxiety and confront the uncertainty with courage.
I assured her everything was going to be alright, though it was not going to be easy. Her world is not the same as mine, so I did not expect her to take everything in. I, however, told her not to “stand still”. For starters, I told her not to despise any job that may come her way, even if the pay wasn’t great.
I also advised her to ignore voices that may ridicule her for whatever job she may be doing, so far as it is legit and decent. An American businessman man with a rag to riches story to share will advise one to first have a foot at the door. You need to be in the open space to be seen, and it may not always come easy but it is a good path to take.
It is unfortunate but as a country and as individuals, we need to begin to have a rethink about what we are looking with regards to national service. I always see service personnel desperately pushing to be placed at company A or B, even when the environment does not offer them any meaningful platform to improve.
It is common knowledge that most service personnel have been turned into food vendors at their post – a situation the Speaker of Parliament, Alban Bagbin, expressed worry about. But the question is, why are service personnel not willing to travel outside of their regions, say to villages or low income communities, where they can be productive?
Imagine service people willing to take up the challenge of going to communities affected by the Akosombo Dam spillage, for example? They will make an impact. But are those running the scheme willing to support those who are willing to offer themselves for such an exercise? Are they willing to pay the personnel a decent incentive that can help them rent a decent accommodation and ensure their upkeep? Until we are prepared to make the necessary sacrifices, our service scheme will just exist in a name.
Countries are getting a lot from their citizens through the scheme; can we say the same about ours?
