Getting refused a visa isn’t anything I look forward to, so I always avoided applying for one except when I have strong application, one I am certain will stand the stress and strain test it might be subjected to.
Given the deficiency of not being a first speaker of the English language, I often share my applications with others, with a view to identify wrongly interpreted instructions or spot whatever might have been written in invisible ink.
I also avoid filling the application forms, where the esteemed diplomatic mission still operates in the stone ages and use paper forms for collecting applicants details, on my dinning table, at a bar, or immediately after eating for fear of soiling these all important documents with pepper from a freshly made egusi soup, droplets from a cold bottle of beer or vomit (which may result from the frustration often encountered by people trying to guess the thoughts behind the questions asked on the forms).
On one occasion I was asked to state the date my great grandfather met his wife, I was astounded as I don’t know to which was referred, as records have it the old man had some 15 wives – ok, just kidding.
I also bore in mind the fact that I am from Africa’s most populous country and well aware of the continuous scramble by my fellow nationals to leave the country in order to ensure it isn’t over populated – pure altruism, kind I recommend for leaders of that country.
I have also learnt not to prepare for a trip until my passport is returned and tucked away in it, my destination country’s visa.
Yes, you guessed right, I have just been refused a visa.
I am convinced, given the reasons stated for the refusal; my application must have reached the desk of the consular officer at the same time as a bad news or a couple of similar news.
S/He lost coordination, forgot what it is to read documents carefully and decided, I am not employed, not sure I have legal permission to live in this country, don’t have a family anywhere in the world…
Erm…, as you may have guessed, I have taken this in my stride and I am going about my life’s acting without any bad feelings and not jealous of my colleagues who are now virtually packing their bags on their way to the single most important event in my organisations calendar this year.
* The erring diplomatic mission has corrected itself, and if you followed my recent tweets and are able to identify the location I made them from, then you can safely guess the country whose consular officers did the wrong 🙂