Oisin Brogan from Tralee, Co. Kerry, Ireland spent 6 months volunteering in Nigeria and shares his story with us:

I suppose I should start from the start.

Sometime in late 2007, I decided 14 years will be enough. After this year, it was time for a break, time for a change. Time to do something else with my life.

The change I sought was away from the classroom. I was about to enter 6th year, and college was the obvious next step for someone in my shoes. Well, I decided, not for me. I wanted to try a different way of learning, another form of education. Get out, see the world, learn by doing and all the other cliques.

You might think I was a bit young for such a change. Thankfully, my parents didn't agree with you, and with their support I started to plan what was to become my "Sozialesjahr". (Mum's German.)

So, for the guts of nine months, I lived outside Ireland. Outside Europe. I bag-packed around Peru and Ecuador for three months with a group of North Americans, marveling at everything I saw. These were a wonderful 12 weeks, but looking back now, they were training for the main event.

After Christmas with the family, I packed my bags again for Nigeria. (This proved to be my first mistake. I packed the same items as for South America, and let me tell you, volunteering requires different things then trekking) I was heading off with EIL, whom I had found through an internet search of "volunteer abroad".

Why did I choose Nigeria? There were a number of different reasons. I had always wanted to go to Africa, and when else would I get a better opportunity then this? The projects EIL offered in Nigeria also seemed more in my line of interest, which was working with children in a sort of play environment. More practically, I had spent weeks trying to learn Spanish in South American. I didn't want to spend a similar time learning a native African language or worse, French.

I spent the plane journey over to Nigeria worrying. I was terrified. Not about a new country, or about the plane crashing or anything like that. (Though I'll never forget the burnt out planes left by Lagos Airport's runway to greet people to Nigeria) No, I was desperately worried about volunteering. Or, more to the point, my preparation for my five months of work ahead. What had I done? I had a list of nursery rhymes, and a few games to play with kids. What was I going to do?

These feelings were given brief respite during orientation, when I had to deal with new sights, feeling and people. The local staff did their job well, taking it easy on the facts and language course, knowing we'd still be getting used to everything. The city tour they arranged for us was spot on, giving a taste of what being out and about an Nigeria city was going to feel like, while still letting us "do the tourist" for awhile.

However, once I got to my actual placement, the feelings returned. Don't get me wrong. The people of Ilesa and Living Hope Care (the NGO I worked five months with, LIHOC for short) were all wonderful and welcoming. Everyone went out of their way to try make my transition easier.

One of those kindnesses, however, was the thing that really scared the pants off me. Ms. Fakande, both my host Mummy (as she was called by all her staff) and boss, sat me down on my first night in her home and outlined what LIHOC did, and how I might be able to help in those endeavors. During the talk, she kept using phrases like "if you wanted you could ..." and "it's up to you ..."

Unfortunately, this was exactly what I didn't want to hear. Feeling ill prepared, I was hoping for a set task, laying out exactly what was expected of me, so I could learn and eventually (with luck) excel at that job. Instead, Mummy told me I could help "in any way I can." To make matters worse, LIHOC was very different from my expectations. In my mind's eye I saw myself working in an orphanage. As Sanya, college and friend told me later, that's not how things are done in Nigeria. LIHOC acted more as a facilitator and service provider for the children they worked with. Feeling at a total loss, I smiled and went to bed.

Tossing and turning, I left culture shock for the first time in my life. It was all do big, all too difficult, all too different. I longed for that classroom. At least I knew I was good at that.

A long story short, I managed to deal with that feeling. There were highs and lows along the way. For the first three weeks at LIHOC, I was left with little to do, not being offered any long term job, as promised. Those three weeks, looking back, were just the right thing for me. At the time, I was frustrated and scared, that this would how it would be for the rest of my stay. In reality, Ms. Fakande and LIHOC were giving me time to find my feet and my own way to go.

My breakthrough came in the form of Kidz Klub. This was a once a month meeting held in nine different sites across Osun state. It was one of the few times LIHOC staff had direct contact with the children, and involved skill building and informal learning, plus a few games. Over the five months, I ended up adopting the running of one of the Klubs, and tool an interest in all of them. I was often, towards the end of my stay, jokingly referred to as the "KK adviser."

Of course, once a month meetings aren't enough to keep one occupied. With the date of the Klubs circled in my calendar, I started to look for work around LIHOC.

I joined the Project Management Team, which oversaw all of LIHOC's activities. This meant I knew all of what was going on, and even got to have a say in some of it. I became the local computer expert, which led to my later task of digitalising our database of the children. I generally tool up any work I thought I could handle, including interviewing caregivers of the children for microcredit loans, among other things.

This "do work as it comes" attitude obviously leads to occasional lapses. Some weeks were slow, some weeks flew by. I needed a daily job. This came in the form of a teaching assistant. I worked in Ife Oluwa (Love of the Lord) a local primary school as a general helper to the teacher of Primary Four. I taught mostly Maths, but also dabbled English, Home Economics, Science and even Religion, which I thought a bit ironic given my own views on the subject.

The people at the school were wonderful. Not only did this give me my chance for daily interaction with children, they were the most flexible employers imaginable. Work at the office tool preference and, as I said, came and went. Sometimes I wouldn't be able to come to school at all. When I returned, apologies ready, they wouldn't even bat an eyelid. Merely ask what I had brought back from my travels for them.

As I'm starting to go a bit over limit again, I guess I should write about the two most important things I found out in Nigeria. I could write about countless other things, such as goats and chickens, Premier League soccer matches, the weather, stomach ulcers or Michael. Maybe I will, another day. But right now, I should stick (loosely) to the "few paragraphs" limit I was set.

Unsurprisingly, of the two, one was about Nigeria, and one was about myself. When I arrived to the country, I had a picture in my head what a 3rd world country should not only look like, but feel like. It should look dusty and run down, with lots of shanty towns and rusted iron. It should feel poor and hopeless, as though every day was a struggle. There should little if any happiness and certainly no optimism.

However, that's what I found. In spite of my "geography textbook view" of the country, optimism was in abundance. I learned quickly not to call Nigeria a "poor country". Acknowledging it had problems, that was okay. But no Nigerian I met accepted that Nigeria was poor. If only the government sorted itself out, everything would be fine. It sounded like anything you heard back at home. Even the poorest of the poor, the kind that needed LIHOC's help, didn't regard their life as a struggle. They have problems, a malfunctioning health system, meeting fees to keep their children in bad schools, finding work. But still they had a spring in their step.

The eye opener for me was when I met Kuti, a farm laborer, interviewing her for a micro credit loan. I realised, halfway through the conversation, that she was one of the farmer you hear so much about through Fair Trade, etching out a living on less then $1 a day. Yet she seemed so happy. She spoke positively about her planned catering business, telling us "school kids already came to her for kuli kuli." After the interview, she even offered us some fruit she had picked while farming that day.

The discovery was a more gradual process. It dawned on me, towards the end of the trip, that I had occasionally, throughout my stay, taken the initiative on things. I had taken on the running of a Kidz Klub. I founded a soccer club in the local primary school (one of the things I couldn't write about) I had gone out of my way to visit people. Me! Visit people, with no invitation. Something I wouldn't have thought of in Ireland. I have never considered myself a go getter, as they say, someone to get up and do something. Set me a task, I'll do that for you. but taking the initiative ... Nigeria forced that out of me. Now, it wasn't a complete turn around. I haven't started my own Ngo upon my return to Ireland. But before I left for home, someone who did (set up an Ngo, and now spends most of his time in Nigeria) commented that I had been "one of the most active volunteers who came to Ilesa." That show I'm making some progress, at least.

And, when I did get home, to no summer job (again) I somehow ended up volunteering in an Enable Ireland charity shop.

Volunteering, it seems, is a hard thing to shake off.

P.S. This is my second attempt. On my first try, I realised I had gone far over Anton's "a few paragraphs" suggestion, and I was still writing about orientation. I will send along that version later. (if I ever finish it ;)

P.P.S. I will be in Dublin for the EIL gathering on the 19th of this month. Looking forward to seeing you. You don't know where I could get yam in Dublin by chance?