Local2Global with Ada Africa: #L2G
Hold onto your hats, folks – it's time for the next thrilling chapter of my border-hopping bonanza! We're about to dive into the wild world of border shenanigans, where passport stamps are like golden tickets, and the currency exchange game is a rollercoaster of its own. This time, we're taking off from Cotonou to Aflao border.
Get ready for a comedy of errors happening at the West African borders. I trekked to reach the Cotonou Park, ready for the next leg of this fearful journey to Togo's Aflao border.
The driver, in a moment of misguided goodwill, suggested a money-changing maestro. Little did I know, the driver had a 'recommendation' for a money changer and got a share from my loss. They ripped me off. Note to self: Next time, do a lap around and choose your currency comrade wisely. Lesson learned.
Fast forward to a smooth ride to the Aflao border, during which I entered the realm of deep nap. Yes, I dozed off, and lo and behold, we zipped past the Hila condji border without getting my passport stamped.
Prompt my frustration – I woke up fuming, ready to give the driver a piece of my mind. His response? 'It’s nothing biggie, we got connections. It will be fixed'.
Enter the ‘saviour’ a mysterious man summoned by the driver to help me cross the border. I spilled the beans about my unstamped passport debacle at Condji border, fearing the border immigration would unleash me with interrogation.
Mr. Fix-It promised to make all my passport stamp woes disappear for a mere 15,000 CFA. Uh-uh, not on my watch! I'm a law-abiding African, dammit!
As I pondered my options, Mr. Fix-It started suggesting ways to bend the rules at the border. He suggested some creative passport gymnastics, bypassing the stamping process altogether. Spoiler alert!
These folks don't care about the aftermath, as long as your money finds its way into their pockets. But nope, not me – I wanted my trip to be a legit masterpiece, following all the ECOWAS treaty rules of movement. No shortcuts, just straight-up adventure.
I am the epitome of law-abiding African wanderlust. With a heart full of courage and a passport in hand, I waltzed up to the Togo immigration counter, where a few non-Africans were juggling forms like paperwork acrobats.
I waited without talking to anyone till an officer finally asked what I wanted, and the comedy of my poor French skills ensued. 'Je dormais à Condji, pas de timbre!' Translation: I was asleep at Condji, no stamp! 😂
The officer, playing the language card, claimed not to understand English, so I butchered French with the finesse of a linguistic acrobat. He threw a 5000 CFA price tag on my passport's redemption.
Bargaining skills activated! After a theatrical exchange of pleas and haggling, victory was mine – a mere 1000 CFA paid, and voila, my passport was adorned with the coveted stamp of legitimacy. I triumphantly strolled to the Ghana side, ready for the next act in this border-hopping circus.
Read on for the next uproarious installment, where my travel document was seized and I was sent back to Nigeria.
Share your thoughts with me as you read 🙏🏾
Ada Africa 🌍 +2348033842029
PART 4: SENT BACK TO NIGERIA BECAUSE OF THE PHASED OUT YELLOW CARD
Ah, dear reader, the chronicles of my border-crossing adventure has turned to misadventure. Join me in the lamentation of bureaucratic woe and the agony of yellow card calamities at the Ghana Aflao border.
As fate would have it, the Ghanaian port Health officer, a stern young lady with a penchant for chaos, laid eyes on my yellow card. An immediate demand emerged from her lips – '150 cedis for a new yellow card, or 40 cedis to pass.' My vaccinations are still up to date, but alas, the old yellow card was a ticket to my woes.
Her demeanor? Mean and rude, a true maestro of bureaucratic malevolence. With a decree that felt like a gavel strike, she cast me back to Nigeria, vowing to seal the border gates ahead of me. Maintaining that I either pay the money (illegal fee) or go back to Nigeria.
The E-yellow card, a looming specter, became the nemesis I never saw coming. I concluded that the E-yellow card will be the first thing to get once I arrive at my destination. I have the cash amount they are requesting for, but I can't waste such to get E-yellow card with signed and stamped vaccinations on it unreal.
Dejected and unhappy as I watched hundreds of commuters pay the illegal amount to cross. I sought refuge to document my sorrows in the journal of my travel mishaps, part of what you are reading now.
The Mr. Fix-It and co-touts that followed me from Togo-side, those purveyors of border mischief, approached me with their nefarious proposition – 15,000CFA for a smooth passage. I maintained my principles and endured. I brushed them off, penning my tribulations on paper, unknowing to me that the border officials were observing me.
Enter a senior health port officer, I narrated and pleaded with him. He said he will talk to his colleague to consider me. 40 mins after, I went back to him and he offered a cruel ultimatum – pay the money or surrender your yellow card.
With a painful heart, I opted for the latter. I took pictures of the yellow card and the inner pages bearing stamped dates of the vaccinations, after which they seized my vaccination card.
Off to the immigration counter, the officer beckoned, demanding its toll in the form of a stamp fee. A standoff ensued, my eyes narrowed at the proclaimed fee pasted on the wall. I gave them a brief ECOWAS treaty tutorial on free movement of persons. Instantly, my passport received its desired entry stamp.
With the ordeal seemingly over, I retreated to journal my anguish. Two lurking police officers, curious about my scribblings, approached for a glance on my paper. I flipped fast to a page showing records of my expenditure tracking of the journey, with the explanation that I have to submit the account to my office for reimbursement.
In reality, since cameras are not allowed at the border, I penned down their names and actions. I left them and trekked to find my way to Abidjan.
It was past 2pm and scheduled for departure to Cote D’Voire by 7pm so I had hours to explore the border.
I found a place to eat since I've not had breakfast for the day. I sought solace in a local eatery and ordered a Ghanaian delicacy, Banku with Tilapia fish. I enjoyed the fish sauce and left the banku because there was nothing like a spoon in the restaurant to eat with.
I had a few Ghana cedis with me. I paid with the green paper currency, and she returned the money that she doesn't know what I gave her. On checking, I realized it was South African Rand. I mixed it up when I was sorting out different country currencies I had before the trip, I mistakenly took the South African Rand and left the Ghana cedis, both currencies were of similar colour. I didn't plan to buy things in cedis and changing money wouldn't make sense. I pleaded to pay in CFA instead, which she collected.
As I strolled around, contemplating when the 100+ passenger bus will fill up, I discovered a beach. It was an amazing sight to renew myself with nature while I admired and picked a lot of sea shells for our craft work at OmaAfri Designs.
Late Realization? Traders from Ivory Coast arrived with the bus to Ghana in the morning, went to buy goods and returning with goods bought to travel with the same bus back to Cote’Voire. The bus filled up, not just with people, but with teary stories of bureaucratic battles, currency value confusions, and the resilience of a lone traveler navigating the unpredictable West African cross-border chaos.
Stay tuned, for the saga is far from over.
Ada Africa 🌍 +2348033842029; local2global4@gmail.com
Thank you for taking us on this journey with your. Your attention to details creates pictures for the readers. Cheers!