Uhamiaji

I was paid a visit by nine immigration officers yesterday. Needless to say, my pulse quickened a bit . . .

After seeing an unmarked Land Rover enter through the gate, I walked up to greet the people inside. After exchanging greetings, they identified themselves as officers from the regional immigration office. I took a brief headcount mentally, seeing that there were nine of them. They informed me that they were visiting us in order to see the work permits for all of the foreigners that we were housing here.

They requested to see the work permits for all of the foreigners onsite. After requesting them to show me their identification, I told them that I would be glad to show them my work permit, but they would have to come another day to see that of our coworker Beth Roark and the passports of our guests, because they had just left to go to town. After some discussion, they requested a photocopy of my work permit (which I gave them) and a photocopy of those of each of the other foreigners on the property (which we will drop off at the immigration office in town next week).

The brief exchange ended well, but it did get my heart going, mostly because of how many officers there were. I have heard that the imigration offices have cracked down a bit and are trying to confirm their list of registered foreigners. I was very thankful that my paperwork is in order, and that I wasn’t found to be an illegal alien!

By the way, uhamiaji means “immigration” in Swahili.