‘Divisions are to march past in order of divisions at twenty paces interval.  One Division leading. Divisions, move to the right in threes – right turn!’

We had been standing in the sun for over two hours at attention. From time to time, someone would get pass out from the exertion required to keep still. The Red Cross, ever ready would move in with stretchers and remove the unconscious person. The person immediately behind him would step forward and take his place. We called it covering up.

It must have looked like torture to the onlookers but not one of us had thoughts of disobeying. Only our eyes moved – no talking or scratching. You were expected to stand still even if a snake bit you in some tender spot.

I had been contemplating falling over but I knew I would only get punished because I had no way in mind for it to look real. The hard sizzling tarmac wasn’t too tempting – I didn’t want my head to hit it when I pretended to faint so there was no hope. Besides that, naval officers waited behind the lines, batons ready.

I was beginning to get dizzy when the command came to turn right. I was in Division Four – Four Division in navy lingo. We had trained especially hard for this – simply because we were welcoming the FOC East – Flag Officer Commanding Eatsern Naval Command – to our school. We had to show discipline until he arrived so we stood like statues in our white uniforms, nobody daring to disobey.

For six weeks we had been drilled by sadistic lieutenants in all aspects of marching. It had been hammered into our heads that failing to qualify for the elite marching team meant something close to death.Only some people had been excused. Those who didn’t get on the team were weeded out and punished. Military justice.

We turned in sync and began to march. My limbs just performed mechanically even though my mind was far away. Even when we were out of sight, we kept up the march until we reached a dispersal point.

When I was offered admission to the Nigerian Navy Secondary School in Port Harcourt, I had been happy and sure of where I was going. On getting in, we had been given some “special” treatment for two weeks before the real discipline started.

I learned to jog – we called it double – towards a superior when I was called.

My mom was shocked the day she paid me a visit and I walked into my XO’s – Executive Officer - office without even a glance at her.

I saluted smartly and requested permission to carry on with speaking to my own mom before I could talk to her. Any thing other than that would have earned me a suspension from school for two weeks with some pleading from my parents.

I became used to carrying out orders without questioning them and some people remarked on how cruel it must have been for someone my age – I was only ten then.

The good side was that I was transformed from a rascally, hot-to-handle fellow into someone who kept very much to himself. I became almost entirely passive, succumbing to peer pressure and a lot of other things  I do not wish to mention.

I got transferred to a different school – the illustrious Suleja Academy (now Federal Governement Academy) – and experienced a rapid change in how I respond to things. I always look back at my brief stay in the Navy School with mixed feelings.