Have I told you that I love my motorcycle, that I pet it on the side of the tank after a good workout and that it is like a dear friend to me? Today my motorcycle landed me a visa for Nigeria. It is completely true and I owe it an immense `thank you´ for this.
Nigeria is one of the countries in Africa for which it is extra challenging to get a visa. Normally it is said that the embassy in Accra, Ghana is the best bet to obtain a Nigerian visa but these things change frequently and you can never trust old information. That is why I visited the Nigerian embassy in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso, just because I had time at hand as I was also applying for other visas in the city. I didn’t really expect to get a visa but it doesn’t hurt to ask and if I would have left it until Accra, then that would probably have been my last option. If I would have been turned down there I would have been in a precarious situation.
The embassy was located way out on the southern edge of the city so I rode my bike there. The place was large and almost empty of people. After a security screening I was directed to a large waiting hall in a side building. There were two rows of chairs for the few expectant souls and a desk for the secretary who decided who had a reasonable application case and that could be let into the next room to talk to the official visa executive, the man who makes the final decision whether you will get a visa or not.
After sitting down in the waiting hall for a few minutes I was called forward by the secretary behind his desk. I showed him my passport and the application form I had completed.
A tourist visa normally has two variables; duration and the number of entries. The duration can typically be; one, two or three months while single, two or multiple entries may be granted. If I don’t know what rules apply I usually put down three months and multiple entries in the application form as this gives me the most flexibility. As some visas start ticking at the date of issue and I may still have a long way to travel before I reach the country in question, three months may be necessary even for very small countries.
When the secretary saw that I had applied for a multiple entry visa he told me right away that I needed a letter of invitation, or a LOI as it is abbreviated, from a person, company or organization within Nigeria. The LOI should include a copy of the personal ID of that person or representative of the entity plus a few other requirements which I got too tired to listen to. I knew that I would not be able to arrange a LOI unless it was my absolutely last resort.
When I told him that I didn’t know their rules and that I only wanted to apply for a normal tourist visa he asked me why I had written “engineer” on the line asking for “profession”. He implied that I should have written “tourist”. I kindly told him that I would love to be a professional tourist but my profession is really engineer. For a second I though he wouldn’t even let me into the second room and talk to the visa executive. I wasn’t very upset as I had not expected more than being informed about the impossible rules of their trade and leave without a completed application.
After some further palaver he did show me into the second room where I was faced with a rather stern looking man comfortably leaned back in his office chair behind his desk. My prospects looked thin but I had nothing to lose so I told him my travel story and my reasons for visiting Nigeria. He looked mildly impressed. When he said that I could maximum get a one month, single entry visa that would start at the date of issue, I was surprised that he would consider giving me a visa at all but nevertheless, it would not help me. I needed more than a month as I will be visiting Ghana, Togo and Benin before I even get to Nigeria and a month will be too little time. This I told him. I also said that I would have to apply for the visa in Accra.
This is where the interview would have ended if it wasn’t for him asking about my means of transport. I said that I am travelling by motorcycle and the stern man, that up until now had shown little interest in my case, suddenly leaned forward very attentive.
“By motorcycle?” he asked. “Is it one of those big ones?”
I admitted that, “Yes, it is quite big.”
“Where do you have it?” he wanted to know.
“It’s sitting outside in the parking lot.”
He asked me if I had a photo as he couldn’t abandon his duties and wander out to the parking lot. I didn’t but like the flick of a switch all problems were gone. Suddenly everything was possible and only because I had told him I was driving a big motorcycle. The normal questions followed; how long have I been travelling, how many kilometers, where was I going, etc.
The maximum one month visa restriction turned into a three month, single entry visa. What I had written on the four page application form no longer mattered. The visa would cost a bit more but that is just standard procedure and nothing to question. That I only had my second passport, which so far doesn’t have a single stamp or visa, to show that I really am a tourist, didn’t matter. (My other passport with all the stamps and visas was getting processed at a different embassy.) I was just asked to bring it in two days when I could pick up my passport with a fresh Nigerian visa.
When I returned to the secretary in the waiting hall I made sure that he understood the agreement that I had with the executive of giving me a three month visa. The secretary was now all of a sudden very accommodating and said that:
"Three months? No problem. We can give you four months if you want, or even five. No worries." I thought it was just empty talk by someone who wanted to outdo his boss. If they would give me three months, I would be more than happy.
And that was that. Thanks to my dear motorcycle I had got a very generous Nigerian visa, a visa that had loomed like a dark thunderstorm on the horizon and with only two days processing time. Fabulous!
When I left the embassy compound, the man in the screening room, when told that I was coming back in two days to pick up my visa, said: "The man," meaning the visa executive, "must like you", indicating that tourist visas to non-Burkina Faso residents are not regularly issued at this embassy.
Also the French owner of the guest house (Le Pavillon Vert) where I was staying was surprised that I had got a Nigerian visa. He said that people usually come back from the embassy empty-handed.
For two days I wondered if I was really getting the visa. Perhaps they had changed their minds and had some bad excuse to why they were forced to turn me down. But when I returned to the embassy two days later my passport with a five month, single entry visa was waiting for me. The cost was reasonable at 39 000 CFA (65 €). I had my other passport that I had promised to bring for them to look at but the issue was never raised.
Some people celebrate their birthday. I don't understand why. Some people celebrate their nephews' sisters' monthers' birthday. God knows why. Some people even celebrate names days. While those people are setting their priorities straight, I'll tell you what is really worth celebrating: Getting a difficult visa glued into your passport! That calls for celebration.
On the way back from the Nigerian embassy I told my motorcycle that I owed it BIG TIME. It could request anything from me. I would not turn it down. So it was pizza and beer time, followed by a kilo of strawberries as it is strawberry season in this part of the world at the moment.
This means that I have all the visas until Cameroon sorted and I do not need to go to the big city of Accra if I do not want to. I’m currently fed up with big cities after spending 18 days in Bamako and 9 days in Ouagadougou. I am now feeling well, after being sick to and from since mid December, I'm loaded with visas and I'm ready to go, heading into new adventures. Ride on!
/AB
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