The border post between Namibia and Zambia at Wenela in Katima Mulilo was closed during the occupation of the racist South African Government.
Many families were separated from one another by the 1890 Anglo-German Agreement (Kruger, 1984), even though they had common historical ties.
With the new political dispensation that cut them into half, many of these families were severed forever.
This meant either taking longer time without seeing each other or losing family members forever in the process, which created a social and psychological impact on the members involved.
It was only during the war of liberation that the South African Security Forces would forcefully cross into Zambia in a fruitless effort to pursue the liberators.
Although the border was open every single day, it was permanently closed.
At the dawn of Namibian Independence in 1990, the two border posts became operational and spelt a period of relief, as old families started meeting and visiting one another.
The opening of the border posts equally triggered and enhanced the spirit of trade between the two nations and beyond.
Despite the envisaged spirit of cooperation between the two neighbours, there has been friction and tension, sometimes emanating from certain incidents of misunderstanding.
On the Namibian side, the spirit of customer care service delivery has been of a mixed approach.
Although the border is always operational daily during official hours, some people always avoid passing through the gazetted route and choose to use what they take to be convenient.
The most entry points, in this case, are Stoney City, Liselo, Chefuzwe and the border environs themselves.
Travellers can be dropped near the border by taxis and then disappear into the bushes – and within a few minutes find themselves on the Zambian side.
At Stoney City, some fun-loving nationals from both countries mingle and then find their way out, leading to either country.
The travellers who go through the normal and official channels on the Namibian side are always handled with dignity and respect.
In fact, before the advent of the coronavirus, one would find a 20 or more metres-long line of Zambians entering Namibia.
This was the time when business was thriving, as Zambians would bring more money into Namibia.
Leaving the Namibian side, one heads to Zambia through the so-called ‘no man’s land’, which is ambiguous, as both Namibians and Zambians spent their time selling merchandise in this place.
Still, the area is littered with trucks, some of which have been parked there for more than two years.
One wonders what has happened to businesses conducted by the trucks and their owners.
Imagine a situation in which a truck, carrying merchandise meant for a certain destination, is halted and forced to park in a certain spot near the border and then left there to rot, yet the owner seems to be unmoved by the incident.
Sometimes, these trucks block the road that they become almost impossible to pass through – even to ordinary pedestrians.
With luck and difficulty, one waddles and snakes through and between stationary trucks, of which some of them have not been on the road for the past two years.
In the immigration office, on the Zambian side, one goes through the routine and formality of passport stamping and completes whatever needs to be done.
It is when one is driving that hell breaks loose, as one is tossed from one office to another with very little assistance and cooperation.
One is forced to spend more than two hours just for paperwork – and in some cases, the official will be on lunch and the traveller will have no choice but to wait in front of a chair with a jacket hanging on it.
This reminds me of one of Omolo’s songs, Mr Kupe (tick), which was very popular in Tanzania during the seventies, epitomising the work ethics of some people those years, who would leave their jackets behind their desks to show they were around but not in the office.
This is incompetence of the highest order when dealing with different nationalities.
Depending on the size and weight of the vehicle, one is expected to pay four charges and taxes, which are carbon tax, council levy tax, insurance for the car and road tax.
All these charges and taxes can go up to about N$2 000.
Of all the four charges and taxes, the road tax is the most frivolous one, as one is paying for damaging the car because of the worst state of the Zambian roads.
Whether one takes the Sesheke-Livingstone-Lusaka road, they are bound to drive through the deepest potholes – from Mwandi to Kazungula, where the road is almost inaccessible.
The Katima-Mongu–Lusaka road is not better than that of Kaoma to TBZ, where the potholes are equally deep.
Stepping out of the immigration offices, one is met by the longest line of parked trucks, most of them being on the rotting stage, which blocks the parking space.
It is hard to explain why these trucks have been parked like that for years.
If the trucks cannot pass through the border, why can’t they be removed or even auctioned?
One cannot imagine the revenue lost by letting the trucks park for a long time and business damage done.