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Harare to Lusaka on the King Lion Bus


Riding the international bus, King Lion, from Harare to Lusaka and almost getting arrested by a corrupt immigration officer at the border on The South of Africa Tour.


After a brief stay in Harare at the Meikles, I was on my way to Lusaka by bus. Little did I know, I was about to experience one of my worst border crossings ever.

Goof dropped me off at the station at around 6:30 a.m. so that I could make sure to purchase a ticket. After we boarded the King Lion bus, the lady selling tickets came on board. She claimed to be the owner, then gave us some safety information and then quizzing us on the info, awarding prizes to those with correct answers. By giving away promotional gear like baseball caps, she really got the crowd involved. At the end of the twenty minute spectacle, we listened to a prayer as this was a religious bus. Overall the bus was comfortable and offered a surprisingly pleasant experience.

The drive was quite straight forward with one planned rest stop for food and restrooms. We had several annoying police stops to check the same paperwork over and over again, possibly to try and get something out of the driver.

We also passed a bizarre accident where a truck ran off the road and was being towed by another truck also off the road.

Getting to the Chirundu border, we alighted the bus and stood in line for immigration. The immigration officers sat in the middle of the room with the Zimbabwean immigration facing one side and the Zambian facing the other. The single line snaked around the room toward the officers.

The Zimbabwean immigration flipped through my passport, discussed something among themselves, then gave me my exit stamp.

I rejoined the line which continued to the Zambian side.

When the immigration lady finally took my passport, she flipped through to my KAZA Univisa that I purchased at the Kazungula border when I first arrived in Zambia from Kasane. That’s when the problem arose.

She told me that my visa wasn’t valid and that I would have to buy a new one.

The KAZA Univisa is a new initiative to allow visa free travel for tourists between member countries. It is currently in its pilot phase with Zambia and Zimbabwe participating.

I explained that when I purchased the visa at Kazungula, the immigration officer specifically said that if I enter back into Zambia, I would not need to buy a new visa. When I clarified if it applied by land, he confirmed that it was still valid. He specifically advised me not to pay any money at the border, which I thought was odd.

The multi-entry visa was valid for a three month period as long as I did not leave either Zambia or Zimbabwe.

The lady just shook her head and said “no, not at this border post.” I leaned over to point out that this visa was valid for “Zambia”, the country, not a specific border post.

She said that other travelers had the same visa and they didn’t let them through. Then she handed back my passport and said “you can buy a new visa or go back to Zimbabwe.”

I was shocked. My visa was clearly valid and now I have to spend another US$50 after just buying a visa a couple of days earlier?

I asked to speak to the manager. So she led me to a dark messy room with a single desk and told me to sit. A little later she called me over to another office where a bulky immigration officer was hunched over his desk speaking to a man with a humble demeanor.

I sat quietly waiting for him to acknowledge me. After a few minutes he finally looked in my direction and greeted me with a “hello”. I replied in kind and then he repeated almost word for word “you can’t go in with a Univisa, you can pay for a new visa or go back.”

I again went into an explanation of what the other immigration office advised and how a visa is valid for a country, regardless of the entry point.

He then goes to explain that this Univisa is to promote tourism and for those entering Victoria Falls. I replied that I am a tourist and I’m entering Zambia for tourism. He retorted, “We didn’t ask you to come! Go back to Zimbabwe.”

I sat dazed. How it was possible that an immigration head could be ignorant of the laws he is suppose to enforce or was he just corrupt and wanted to pocket the $50?

“I’m sorry but this process is ridiculous. I have a valid visa for your country, why do I need to buy another one?” 

“Ridiculous… Ridiculous?…” He repeated the word slowly and then louder as if the meaning was just starting to sink in. 

“You are calling me ridiculous?”

“No sir, I said the process is ridiculous.” 

“I was appointed by the king! You are calling the king ridiculous!”

“I never said that, sir”

Then he stood up from his chair and fumbled with his desk drawer to get something.

“Ridiculous… Ridiculous? I can have you arrested for insulting me!” 

He whipped out a pair of handcuffs and huffed toward me like a challenging elephant. He towered over me while I was still seated and shook the handcuffs inches from my face.

“I’m going to arrest you!” he says, while opening and closing the handcuffs to demonstrate that he knew how to use them.

Then he turned around, went back to his desk and threw my passport at me.

“Go back to Zimbabwe!” 

I took my passport and left with a “thank you”. 

The bus and 70 people were waiting for me, so I had no choice but to buy a new visa. As I stood in line the officer came out of the back room and ordered the lady not to process my visa. “He said I was ridiculous! Do not attend to him!” Then he left in a huff. 

The lady rightly ignored him and seemed somewhat apologetic at this point. She took me back to the back messy room and asked for payment. To add to my annoyance, they only accepted USD and I only had Euros on me, so I had to go exchange the cash.

By this time, everyone knew my predicament including the money changers, so they gave me some ridiculous exchange rates. I eventually settled on a 1-1 rate and exchanged the cash through the chainlink fence.

Back inside, I paid the lady and she started the belabored process of writing the visa. She eventually handed me my passport with the new visa with an entry stamp. “I apologize for the inconvenience” she muttered.

The entire busload of passengers watched as I boarded and sat down. We were finally on our way to Lusaka.

Unfortunately untrained government staff, especially at the border posts, can seriously damage the reputation of a country and affect the quality of experience for visitors. When I eventually flew out from Lusaka, I checked with the immigration office about my situation and they again confirmed that I didn’t need to purchase a new visa when I already had a valid univisa.

Though frustrating, at least I walk away with another TIA (This is Africa) story for the collection!

David

About David

Founder and writer at World-Adventurer.com, David is on a mission to travel to every country in the world and has less than 10 countries left! He loves new adventures, unique cultures, historic landmarks, and luxurious hotels. Follow along as David shares a journey of a lifetime!

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  • Ed Nicolai

    It’s outrageous and frustrating how you are absolutely helpless in such situations, where all they seem to know is “my way or no way”. Let me share my story with you.

    I’m from Angola, but for some years I lived in Namibia, and because all these countries are right next to each other, I mostly travel by car unless there are no direct routes between my destination and starting point.

    Just before Christmas of 2014 and two weeks spent in different places in Zambia (Livingstone, Lusaka and Kitwe), I was already preparing myself for another tedious 1800 km solo drive from Lusaka back to Windhoek. See we all drive on the left down here in SADC (except Angola and the Congos), but unfortunately, driving in Zambia can be quite a different experience from that of my daily commuting in Windhoek. I was at the red light, about to turn right. So when the lights turned green, I advanced a few metres, giving priority to all oncoming traffic going in a straight direction and waiting for them to clear. Out of nowhere I hear a police siren and an officer screaming through his window to me “Follow me! Now!”

    I follow him, still perplexed as to what could had possibly happened, but then, I remembered about being told zambian cops like stopping cars with foreign registrations for no reason, so I just complied. I had all the documents on me, so nothing really could be of trouble here… Or so I thought.

    I followed the guy inside the police station about 600 metres from the traffic lights, and then he, all bossy, came to me, and this is where the dance began.

    Officer: “Do you know why I “stopped” you?”

    Me: “No sir, I don’t. Did I do anything against the law?”

    Officer: “Yes. You ran a red light.”

    I did not. At this point I knew I couldn’t prove anything to the guy, who was already starting to be surrounded by other fellow officers, who seemed to already be amused and excited for having a foreign car inside their premises. Everything for an extra buck, right?

    “I did not. The light was already green, and I was yielding oncoming traffic, and waiting for them to pass.”

    “So are you calling me blind?”

    “I’m not, sir. All I’m saying is that the light was green, and there’s no way I could have just run through a red light. And even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to do so because of the heavy and fast traffic on the intersection”

    “That’s it, you’re calling me blind!”

    He then calls another officer, a lady, to come and write me a 200 kwacha ticket (40 US Dollars by then). They were convinced I ran through the red light, and there was absolutely no way to prove myself otherwise.

    Lady officer: “Read the ticket’s conditions. Do you agree to them?”

    “No.”

    She giggles.

    “I can arrest you for your insolence. You don’t agree to the Zambian law?”

    “I just don’t agree that I should pay a fine without being heard at least”

    “Oh so you want to be heard? Okay, I’m listening.”

    I explained to her that I was just advancing a few metres towards the intersection because that is what the SADC road code specifies. But apparently, they had different laws, even though the whole community uses the same driving licences. In short, I didn’t want to sign a ticket because I knew I was clean, but deep inside me I already knew I was fighting a lost battle. After about 10 min of reasoning, they finally lost it.

    “Iwe (means ‘you’ in a vulgar manner, directed to another officer), this kid is being funny. Let’s impound his vehicle and tow it away. You! Give me your keys!”

    “Why do you want to impound my car? I didn’t do anything.”

    “GIVE ME THE KEYS!!!”

    And three officers proceeded towards me in a brute manner, to try and forcefully take the keys away from me. I began to lose my calm posture, because I had my expensive photography gear and work laptop inside the car, and with the windows open, God only knows what could had happened to all of it. If I didn’t get lucky, they would have taken the keys away from me without me having time to shut all the windows.

    After I finally gave them the key, trying to see what my next step could be, one of the officers grabs me by the belt (by the belt!) and threatens me:

    “Idiot, if you don’t pay the fine now, I’ll throw you in this mud and jail you for one month!”

    This is when I realised it was all worthless, and that K200 were way better than spending a month in a can, and having immigration issues after all.

    “OKAY, I’ll pay. Where is the office?”

    I went up to the second floor of the once beautiful, but now completely dirty and unmaintained building, looked for fine’s office and walked in. As I prepared to just settle everything and pay, the lady behind ONE SINGLE DESK in the whole filthy room (reminds me of your situation) looks at me and asks in a very rude, authoritarian way:

    “What did you do?”

    This could have been another opportunity for me to slip away, so I began:

    “Truly ma’am, I did nothing, but an officer is alleging I went through a red light, while I…”

    “You what? You kids of nowadays are really reckless! Yes you RAN THROUGH A RED LIGHT and I know it!”

    Then she starts monologuing:

    “You kids think you’re smart. You’re lucky, white boy, that today’s rules are so much softer than back during my time! You ran through a red light back when I was your age, and you would spend 3 months in jail!”

    I paid the fine and walked away. After about an hour or so trying my best, they managed to extort 40 US Dollars from an unsuspecting driver, who did nothing but drive a car with a foreign number plate.

    I had other stories with Zambian police before that, but this was by far the most frustrating and traumatising.

    Sorry for the long-ass post, but I totally understand your frustration at the border. It’s how African cops are. You just won’t slip through them without leaving money. Unfortunately.

    • Wow that sounds extremely frustrating. It’s hard keeping your cool when confronted with situations like that, but you really have no choice. Unfortunately until the governments start improving corrupt police and officials are just a way of life… Thanks for sharing, great story!