Kristy Minor is an environmental engineering graduate working in Ghana as part of an Engineers Without Borders initiative. Currently working with Community Driven Initiatives for Food Security (CIFS) she is co-ordinating projects and helping to build the capacity of local government and its sub-structures. Kristy will continue to share her experiences and challenges on Red Canary

In order to extend a Ghanaian Visa you have to physically leave the country and then return.

In Africa that’s the way it is.

It turned out to be quite an adventure.

We entered a country where we don’t know anyone, don’t speak the language, and are gunning towards an unknown destination while wearing jeans and a t-shirt and holding a passport and $50

Togo, to go.

I chose to renew my Visa in Togo, as I was close to the country’s border and spectacular mountains. I was excited to get closer to them and maybe get a peak inside a country I knew relatively nothing about.

I set out with a friend on the back of a motorbike to the border, wondering if I would survive the 30 minute ride on a very rough road. We flew to the border and, sore from the ride, stumbled over to meet some very friendly Ghanian Immigration personnel.

There was a problem, I needed a Togo Visa. No problem, I thought, I could pay for the VISA at the border, enter, and return to Ghana. Easier said than done, at this border (Natchamba) they didn’t issue Visas (apparently the demand is not high, since who really crosses this way except traders and food trucks who pass freely).

We try to go and see if they will just give me the in and out stamps I need.

A false start

We walk across the border and find a translator, since none of us speak French. The Togo Border police say ” C’est Impossible! No Visa, no entre” which my basic French does not want to understand. What option do I have now? Apparently just one. There is another border post that issues VISAs. Hurray! Only I will have to enter Togo (which they will allow, go get the VISA and come back). It’s 25 km away.

My friend says its too late and we should come back early one morning and try. I agree, not wanting to travel back in the dark, nevermind into Togo. We head home on the bumpy road arriving just as the orange sun sets.

25k becomes 110k

3 days left on my VISA, and a few days spent trying to get back to Zabzugu (nevermind Togo)

We have no money to get back to Ghana if I give him the 20,000 CFA. No money for fuel or water, which is more important I don’t know. Without either I am sure we can not make it back.

That morning we convince some unlucky person from work to take me to the border and see what we can do about getting this VISA. We meet the same friendly immigration personnel and story at the Togo border.

So, we will go to the other place and get the VISA. How do we get there?

In broken English and French – Go to Kara, then Ketao, then arrive a la Kajerimerda.

That sounds far, how much time to reach? He does not know. He has never been. Ok, how many kilometers?

“quatre-vingt-cinq”. I draw on the wall slowly eight and then a five. Oui- 85 kilometers to Kara! Then vingt-cinq to Kajermida. Mill-dix. 110 km straight as he points down the road.

I say to the other side of Togo! Oui, Oui – Togo/ Benin border.

Our jaws both drop and I see the predicament I am in: 2 days left on my VISA and a far away Burkina Faso border. They won’t seem to budge or ask for a bribe to use the stamp I can see sitting on the desk.

We finally agree what the hell let’s go and try. But now the problem is lack of funds, we turn back to Ghana and manage to get together 20,000 CFA (400,000 Cedis or $53 CDN) which is supposed to be 10,000 for the VISA and 10,000 for extra insurance. We cross over and start driving literally across Togo on their perfectly tarred road. 110 kilometers to go.

We pass village after village, bush and tarred road. The sun is beating down on us and it sounds like the desert as portrayed on television with the sound of burning and buzzing.

I think to myself, we just entered into a country wearing nothing more then jeans and a tshirt, my passport and $50, into a country where we don’t know anyone, we don’t speak the language, and are gunning towards an unknown destination.

Don’t leave home without h2o

But our biggest mistake was having no water. We had no water.

We went along and I started to feel the burning on my shoulders, my lips and throat dried. We passed mountains which were covered in trees and natural rock outcrops, villages that resembled Ghana only more spread out, cattle herders and boreholes, women wearing no shirts and many children and youth wearing tan school uniforms.

Kara 85, 65, 45, 20, 10, 5. Kara! We enter this large city only fast enough to leave it behind, another seemingly endless 25 kilometers and we reach the Togo/ Benin border. We are happy and I know I am exhausted, burnt and dehydrated.

An International financial crisis

The border officer speaks some English. He takes my passport and says 15,000 CFA for Visa. I am happy I brought extra and hand over the money. Then he says, You are Canadian? Yes, Then you must pay 20,000 CFA. Shit.

We have no money to get back to Ghana if I give him the 20,000 CFA. No money for fuel or water, which is more important I don’t know. Without either I am sure we can not make it back.

After arguing with the police, the commander comes and we settle that I will pay 18,000 CFA and they will pay the extra 2,000 CFA so we can get back to Ghana. We accept, take the VISA and passport and fly back to Kara, get a litre of fuel and a litre of water, costing us 1,000 CFA.

We fly back to Ghana side faster than we came and wave to people who have helped us along the way. We get back to the Togo / Ghana border after 5 hours, with some very sore bottoms.

They use the stamp I wanted to steal and stamp me OUT of Togo, we walk over to the other side, where they stamp me back IN to Ghana.

We use the last 30 minutes to travel back to Zabzugu over our rough road, and reach home in time for the District Assembly to listen to our story.