I think this could be a screen play. Could you please arrange for Robert Redford to play me? Anyone but Tom Cruise.
This is the saga of one Abdul Hakeem, a good man, no terrorist motives, a religious man, a family man; and a member of our team in Swaziland.
I had almost given up on ever seeing our Civil Engineer, not having heard anything positive for days and then hearing from him on Friday that he was “ready to come” but needed a ticket and etc. You know the rest.
Diplomatic friends came to the rescue somehow on a weekend with EU politicians and PM’s and heaven knows what else involved and I am advised he will be here today on a plane landing in Manzini at 10:50, coincidentally the same flight I was on what seemed to be eons ago but in fact was one solitary week. Good on who figured all this out.
By the way, the airport has one gate and one runway. The plane holds 30 people.
So, foolish man that I am, I assume that in due course, maybe an hour or so, we will be graced by the presence of this long sought after gentleman from Nigeria. The timing seemed propitious as we were leaving shortly on a two week very rural sojourn.
That hour came and went.
Then a phone call from a Mr. Makosi, chief of immigration at the Manzini Airport (an impressive title for a locale with one gate). He grilled me on how a person with no visa would dare to enter Swaziland (to be accurate - try to enter but I chose not to be that specific). I of course had little or no answer to his enquiries. Public Health I am good at; Swaziland immigration procedures are above my pay grade.
When asked about my visa I demurred and said I was an American working on behalf of the European Union (I thought that might either impress or confuse him). I also, in a firm voice, pointed out that neither I nor my Australian, Italian, Kenyan colleagues needed such a document. All that was true (I think).
I told him that we worked with the Ministry of Health and he asked me for a name from that organization and I gave him that of our liaison. He said he would could call her. No answer but should not be a surprise: it is Sunday but still he was persistent and said he would call her on Monday. That is until he heard her name and said: "that is not a Swazi name". This of course was true as the young lady was in fact a resident intern on loan from the British government.
Perhaps out of desperation or perhaps his shift was ending, all of that aside my now frustrated bureaucrat friend got serious and asked me if I trusted Abdul Hakeem and being a good soldier I said yes and mirabile dictu, he said our Nigerian colleague could precede to Mbabane to meet us.
I thought this was the end of a bad dream but whatever the antonym to the above Latin phrase, no. As Abdul Hakeem exited the one room airport, he was taken into custody by the local gendarmerie. A call came explaing that as he apparently had no visa he could not enter Swaziland.
I calmly, well as calm as I am known to get) explained the past several hours of negotiations. The answer was simple: Mr. Makosi had “exceeded his authority”. I decided that this was not the time to argue.
In desperation I turned to a local contact with whom we had become friendly, a Mr. Mandla Masuku. On this day he was dressed to the nines in local garb including a not too modest outer garment, a spear and some sort of a club. Never mind, I figured, how worse could it get?
He spoke to the police and then told me he had to go to Manzini to act as our agent. In for a penny; in for a pound I figured so off he went with about 50 Euros of the money I had for travel costs.
To the shock of everyone, one hour later he was back with Abdul Hakeem but was keeping his passport. He had given his word to the police and also promised them (and us) he would secure a visa for him by Tuesday. He says he can and that it will cost 50 more Euros. Sounds OK – but what do I know.
So, off we went: north to Piggs Peak and checked ourselves and Abdul Hakeem into a hotel sans passport (not an easy task but we pulled it off) and here we are: one Nigerian Civil Engineer without a passport and one dread-locked Swazi holding his future (as well as our Euros) in his hands.
Sometimes I try to be serious; this time……well, I tried and failed.
Please understand that I must use humor in cases like this; either that or go crazy – though some may well argue it is too late for that. Their point is well taken.
I might just tell everyone that all is well. Why upset them. Right now our colleague is with us and we are somewhere – and I say somewhere and I really have no idea – travelling what are euphemistically called roads though the mountains of Swaziland.
Somehow with the knowledge that Abdul Hakeem is safe and with us and that we will solve the visa problem. But first I have a Project to run and miles to go before…..no, wait, these are Kilometers. Never mind, you get the metaphor.
