‘Luck is not on your side today’

I walk to counter M18, which reads “cashier”.

I was told by the guy at the “citizenship” desk this is my next stop to apply for a new passport.

He checks all my documents. “Everything is in order.”

I ask the cashier if I can swipe.

He nods.

He takes a careful look at my ID card, and back at the computer again.

“Are you sure this is the right ID number?”

I laugh, thinking perhaps it’s because I look much younger.

“Yes, I get that a lot,” I say.

He doesn’t return my laugh. Instead, he calls a colleague.

They both carefully examine my ID as if it was some unidentified object from out of space.

“Is there a problem?”

“Your ID number is not appearing on the system,” he says.

He asks me to wait while he continues “searching”.

A few minutes later, he calls me back.

“I cannot find your details on the system. Please go downstairs to the ID department,” he says.

Of course, I think.

No home affairs experience is complete without being sent from pillar to post.

This is the part I tell you that as a media practitioner, I’ve heard the service here has drastically improved since the move to the new multimillion-dollar building.

I arrive at the ID counter and repeat what the gentleman at the cashier counter upstairs said.

The girls behind the counter look like interns, sporting long wigs and lashes.

“What do you mean?” the one with the longer wig asks.

They look at me as if I’m not making sense.

I slowly repeat myself.

One of them bursts into laughter. I feel my blood boil. “Instead of asking what I mean, why don’t you ask your colleague upstairs? This is not a laughing matter!” I yell at her.

The ‘interns’ are taken aback by my sudden outburst. They call a senior. He checks the computer.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. We cannot find your number on the system. Please go upstairs to ID verification.”

I take the elevator, feeling defeated.

The ID verification counter is empty.

A gentleman walks to the counter. I try hard not to have another outburst as I explain my dilemma.

He checks and confirms that I’m not on the system.

“Very strange,” he says. He tells me something about going to check in the physical files.At this point, I was not even listening any more.

All I was thinking was I wouldn’t be getting my passport any time soon.

He eventually found my information, but not before I was sent back and forth again.

By the end of the day, my feet were hurting.

“You need to reapply for me to put you on the system,” he says, sympathetically.

I complete another form. He tells me to go ahead with my passport application.

“You are now back on the system,” he smiles.

The man goes off looking for his colleague to help fast-track my application.

He returns sheepishly a few minutes later.

“Sorry, my colleague knocked off earlier than usual… come back tomorrow. Luck is not on your side today.”

At least we agree on one thing.

I managed to complete my passport application the next day.

My family and friends have a lekker laugh at me.

“You’ve been stateless this entire time.”

• Theresia Tjihenuna is the assistant news editor at The Namibian