No uhuru, yet, with a new passport for the citizens of Africa

Four African countries — Senegal, Togo, South Africa and Zimbabwe — celebrate Independence Day or universal suffrage in the month of April (in the case of Zimbabwe, which, as Rhodesia, declared Unilateral Declaration of Independence in 1965, and South Africa, which gained independence from Britain in 1910).

It seemed very fitting then that in April, the month before we commemorate Africa Day, the Chair of the African Union should announce the African passport, available from July to “show solidarity and promote free movement of Africans within their regions and other parts of the continent.”

As anyone who knows will tell you, one of the less pleasant aspects of travelling within the continent is obtaining a visa. Depending on the country one is visiting, the process can take anywhere from a day to six weeks.

The bureaucracy around getting our visa processes, even with my privileged South African passport, can be quite perplexing mostly because I am self-employed. More than once, consular officials have insisted that in addition to my invitation letter, my ticket, my proof of accommodation and the certificate of registration of the company or organisation inviting me, I must have a letter from my employer.

WRITE A LETTER?

“But I am self-employed,” I will explain.

Then please write a letter saying that you are self-employed,” will be the bizarre response.

It is then that I find the nearest cyber café, write the letter, print, and take it back to the high commission or embassy question. If they accept payment in cash, I am in luck. If, however, they want me to deposit the money in some account, I will have to leave, make a deposit and come back tomorrow — as generally visa sections close by lunch time.

If they are open the next day, I am in luck. If they accept visa applications only on certain days, I will have to wait until the next day for intake. In other words, I generally want all documentation to get my application in order at least a month in advance to ensure I have enough time to deal with the wahala.

I do not even bother to visit countries that need visas for holidays as my self-employed status makes it even more complicated. I will need to book my ticket and accommodation and submit a three-month bank statement and then the self-employed status always causes so much stress that I now never bother applying to visit African countries I need visas to on holiday.

So you see, the announcement earlier this month by African Union chair Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma came as gift sent. It seemed to offer my half South African, half Zimbabwean travel-loving self the perfect uhuru gift. The freedom to travel.

Before I read the full text.

And then I read it. According to the AU, only the Heads of State will receive the African passport as a way to popularise it. Apparently the passport will allow any holder to stay 30 days in any AU member nation without a visa.

During the apartheid rule in South Africa, there was a word used, askari. Askari does not mean, like in Swahili, soldier or police officer. Rather the meaning of askari in South Africa and Namibia is a sellout. During Zimbabwe’s war of liberation, the Shona word for it was puruvheya. A puruvheya was the worst type of being one could be and the worst person one could be accused of being. I recently found out last week that the word puruvheya comes from the English word, purveyor. One who sells.

In my opinion, many African leaders are the askaris and puruvheyas of our time, selling out citizens for their own interests. Many of the restrictions on travel anyway are precisely because of them. With their executive pens, many of our leaders have signed deals that are not favourable to intra-African commerce or relations. I fail to understand then why these same persons are the ones who are rewarded with the very first pan-African passports.

The AU’s decision on the African passport is yet another affront to the rest of African citizens.

The many men and women who  do cross-border trade do more to improve relations between African countries than any of the wise men who thought it was a good idea to have the Chinese build their headquarters. They should have been the first people to receive the African passport, not our Heads of State. Instead, the men and women who do not have to stand in line to renew passports or get visas when visiting other countries are the first to benefit. It’s a travesty.

Zukiswa Wanner is a South African author based in Kenya