In August 2020, I got a career-defining opportunity to travel to Tunis, for a machine learning conference. I am not an optimistic person, so, I did not even think I was going to get selected, I got lucky (My life thrives on luck, and sometimes it’s like I'm allergic to luck)
As a Nigerian, I would need a visa to travel to Tunis, to obtain a visa from the Tunisian embassy in Abuja, Nigeria, I would need my Nigerian passport which expired on the 1st of July 2020. I didn’t bother to renew or remind my parent to renew my passport because I didn’t think I would be traveling anytime soon.
Because of my nonchalance, I would need to renew my passport and get my visa in under one month. Luckily for me, I had an uncle who works in the Nigeria Immigration Service, and I thought it would ease things for me.
I called Uncle Emmanuel (unrelated, but that is a very popular name. Parents desperately want their children to be namesakes with Jesus, my opinion!), he made a few calls and told me the only opening that isn’t crowded was in a city about 4 hours from where I was which is in the southwest of Nigeria, or I would have to go to the North, which is over 10hours away by road.
I chose the former option and traveled 4 hours in an uncomfortable people- packed (the woman who sat next to me has 2 kids and one infant which she strewn behind her with a piece of clothing) bus to the sunshine state, Ondo State, Nigeria to take my biometrics, but couldn’t successfully register that day because the man handling my passport made a mistake in my National Identification Number. I would have to come back to the office the next day.
With no friends around in this beautiful city, my handler messing things up for me, and the intercontinental hotels I saw being unaffordable for me (#32,000!! for one-night sleep! Why!? I’m not going to earn in my sleep now). In other words, my dear acquaintances, your Queen was stranded.
I wouldn’t forget that I had 2 different obviously married men hitting on me! That city gives me PTSD! Till today.
Anyway, thank God I have a favorite cousin who had a childhood friend who lives about 30 minutes away. Tunmise hosted me for the night, fed me, and even took care of me, I would have been forced to sleep under the bridge. A whole Queen under the bridge, Queen is Queen irrespective of the prefix please! 😅
Got to the immigration center the next morning to continue, and wrote my name on the list. I was number 30, even though I got there around 6 am. I sat, waiting for the next line of action when this pretty lady sat close to me about 15 minutes later.
“Hi! What number are you on the list” I asked her?
“I’m on the second list Number 58” She answered with a dry smile, a little bit disappointed in herself, maybe for coming late, I do not know. “What about you?”
“I’m on the first list. Number 30” I smiled, impressively.
“Oh! Lucky you” She smiled.
I know right. I actually get lucky sometimes.
About an hour later, a man who looked like one of the directors or supervisors passed instruction that once he calls our name, we would be given a number and we would proceed to the inner hall where we would get called according to our numbers.
Again, luckily for me, people who are there for renewal would be attended to before those who are just getting fresh passports (those who are just registering for their Nigerian passports for the first time)
You also think I’m a lucky girl, right?
Me too!
Wait for it…
This well-dressed man started calling out names from the list, I listened attentively waiting and wondering how long it would take to hear my name. The lady beside me answered to her name.
She threw me a curious glance. What just happened? Did this lady who got here 15 minutes after me just entered?
I was confused. I moved closer to the director/ supervisor or whatever he was.
“Excuse me, sir! I think you must have skipped my name”
He paused to take a look down at me (If you are wondering, I am 5’2. So, so people tend to do that a lot”)
“What is your name?”
I told him my name. I watched him and his assistant search through the second list.
“My name is on the first list sir” I spoke gently.
“Oh! How did I miss it?”
That question was obviously rhetorical because there is no way I would answer that question at that moment without insulting him, but at that moment, I had more to lose.
Unluckily for me, I was handed the number 59, the next number on the tag. I am not the type to suffer in silence. So I asked, “Does that mean I’d be stuck with this number despite my initial position? ”
“We are sorry, there is nothing we can do about it” the assistant answered with remorse.
I wanted to lose it, but I had a little bit of patience and self-control I held onto, at least unlike the higher percentage of people here, I’m here for the renewal of my passport, not fresh, my handler is also quite influential here. I also had to pay thrice the original amount because I want my passport processed very fast.
We got to the main hall around 9 am, my phone’s battery was flat, I had to save the remaining battery percentage for important calls, my power bank drained, I had few pages left from the book I was reading, it took me less than 2 hours to complete the few pages left. If I had known, I’d have brought a library with me.
I couldn’t find my handler until around 2 pm when I caught a glimpse of him passing by across the hall.
“Excuse me, sir!!!” I ran to him “You remember I’d still have to travel back home today, and it is getting late.”
“Okay. Just hold on!” He left immediately.
I called my dad and kept ranting to him, my friend, Debbs too was a good listening ear.
Around 4 pm, I walked over to the real director (I had noticed how everybody was reporting to her), I explained my predicament to her and wondered why I’m waiting for so long if the people with fresh passports had registered and gone.
She called for the officer who had been calling the names inside the hall. He left with my name, to inquire, I guess.
He came back with a smile, ”Oh! It’s you! We are sorry, somebody took your file, and that's why your name was skipped. Please go inside the room by your right for your capturing”
I wanted to run mad, but ironically, I kept my cool and smiled, “Thank you”
My name was omitted, and my file was skipped!
This is ill luck.
Little did I know this was just the beginning. Nothing prepared me for the upcoming circumstances surrounding my trip to Tunis.
Please stay updated for the concluding part of my story.