SOUTHERN AFRICA 2023: DAY 26 — MOZAMBIQUE
When You’re Refusing to Bribe an Immigration Officer
And they make you wait for hours as a punishment
We’re leaving Zimbabwe. The country where number plates are optional and so are indicators or the use of them. But we’re also leaving a country we only wanted to transit through and ended up staying for three weeks. Yes, it was that beautiful.
We got up early today to hit the border in the morning. Leaving the chaotic city of Mutare behind us, we soon pass the long queue of trucks waiting to get across.
It's 8:40 when we are entering the immigration office on the Zimbabwean side of the border. They first check our covid vaccines before we can enter the building and then our passports and TIP (temporary import permit for the vehicle) get stamped out. In just under 10 minutes we're done. But this was the easy part of the border crossing.
We are entering the offices on the other side at 9:00. The 1st stop is a quick health check which took less than 2 minutes. They take our temperature and scribble some numbers on a piece of paper. They requested our vaccine status but did not really look at the paper.
The 2nd stop is the immigration bureau. The one that can and probably will hold us up for hours. There was no queue but as soon as we greeted the immigration officer, he requested if I had done an online visa which I had not.
We had researched and talked to other travelers who stopped us from getting my visa for Mozambique at the Embassy in Harare saying they aren't very helpful and it is easier and cheaper at the border.
Now, we get taken through the back. A runner is bringing us to a container where a private guy is applying for the visa for me. Since we don’t have network on our phones and no printer, this is our only option. He fills in the forms, writes the invitation letter and sends off the papers. Cost: 10 US$. I didn’t even haggle thinking we don’t really have another option.
Now, all we have to do is wait. Wait for the approval of the visa. Or wait until the officers feel like issuing me a visa.
Meanwhile, David goes through to get the temporary import permit done and pay the road tax. The same guy as earlier is trying to help him get the right papers but it really isn’t that complicated. He requested 20 US$ for his help but David refuses. I had read up beforehand that any fees for the permit got eliminated. So, don’t try to scam us.
Half an hour later we have all the papers, stamps and fees for the car. But we’re still waiting for my visa. With his Namibian passport, David just gets stamped into the country while I need a tourist visa.
11:00 am: Still no visa. No sign from the officers. Or smiles. We’re baking in the car in the African heat.
A beggar is approaching our vehicle and David gets up to wait back inside the immigration bureau as he does not feel like dealing with the guy. The man walks around the car and stops in from of my open door silently greeting me while attempting a bow. I reach back and grab two oranges which I put into his deformed hands. He puts them into his pocket and walks off.
He probably hoped for something different but if he was really in need of food these oranges will be great. They're nutritious and will hydrate him for a while because even though we're still above 1,000 msl, it is hot in the sun.
12:00 pm: The African sun is still shining and we are still waiting. Our decision of not bribing the immigration officers and not wanting to pay a "runner" to speed up the process is resulting in us needing to practice patience. In the meantime, David is watching the immigration officers taking one bribe after another from local guys passing through the office.
Well, at least I finished writing one more article on our Romanian adventure. Let's focus on the positive side of things.
12:30 pm: I ate the last two Zimbabwean oranges we still had and feel a bit refreshed. David, who is still inside the immigration offixe is pressing the locking system of the car. I get up and go see him. Apparently, the big boss arrived and isn’t happy about us waiting already so long. He is going to have a phone call to find out what’s the matter on approving this visa of mine.
1 pm: Still no progress and it appears as if the immigration officers are going for a lunch break now. That means nothing will happen for another hour or so.
Several officers are moving around but nobody is sitting at the desk. One younger guy wants to process a local woman’s passport but is looking for ten minutes already for a functioning stamp. TIA they say. And for those who’ve never been on this lovely continent, it translates to
This is Africa
1:30 pm: Soon I need to use the bathroom but I certainly won’t be stepping into the public toilets here at the border. I’d prefer we could hit the road soon and I can find a spot in the bush.
2 pm: I think it is our time. The big boss calls me behind the counter to fill in the visa application form. No, they had not asked me to do that yet. Then I pay him the visa fee of 50 US$ which disappear straight into his pocket. I don’t care about that one. But I’m not paying anyone else. Just the amount I’m supposed to pay for the visa.
I get sent into another room where a Portuguese-only speaking officer finally processes my visa. I get the picture taken and sent back to the front where my passport finally gets stamped. It is 2:20 pm. 4,5 hours after arriving at the border post, we finally can leave the immigration bureau.
At the gate, the customs officer stops us. David talks to him politely. He asks what we are transporting and if he can see it. We agree and as David wants to get out to open the back of the car, he just waves us through. I guess he did not want to go through a carload full of dirty camping gear. All he wanted was some money from us. Which we didn’t offer. Again.
We are finally free.
Finally.
Welcome, Mozambique.
We didn't have much time left to drive toward the coast and took the scenic route leading us through the mountains as we were told this one was in better condition.
After a few potholes at the beginning, indeed the tar road got better and was in excellent condition. There was more foot traffic than cars passing.
In the highlands, we had to watch out for all the people walking on the road, especially the children. There were many of them. Possibly on the way home from school. Some were sitting in the road reading a book or stopped next to a river to play in the water.
We drove through many local villages but didn’t come past any suitable camping spots, wild or established. iOverlander had a Mango Farm written out as a possible camping place and it was our only option as it was getting late.
Our rule of not driving in the dark has worked for the first month of our journey and we'd like to keep it that way. Around 5 pm is the latest we should start looking for a camp and at 6 pm we should be setting up camp.
As there was nothing around and no alternatives, we pushed it a bit and arrived just past 6 pm at the gate of the mango farm. I opened the gate and we drove into a place that looked rather abandoned.
After driving around and looking for someone, eventually, we did spot a worker who didn’t speak English but by name-dropping the owner of this place and making signs of sleeping, he understood our request and pointed at a tree.
Perfect. Here we can camp. And we’ll feel safer than in the wilderness as we’re not sure how the locals in Mozambique react to foreigners.
A long day is coming to an end as I am seeing the stars appear in the sky. Fireflies dance through the night sky and the chirping of the cicadas is loud again. Some local music is playing in the background, possibly from a bar on the road.
We’re currently touring southern Africa and if you’d like to follow, go through this list of stories from our road trip:
Join my email list here if you would like to follow this journey and read more travel essays or sign up for the Medium membership to receive unlimited access to my and other writers’ stories out here (I will receive a commission fee in return).
WordPress | Shutterstock | Instagram | YouTube | Mailchimp | Amazon