I am finally really proud of the work we are doing in Malawi. I can see the growth in the children. I know they are well cared for and well fed. They now have a sense of hope for their futures.

Now that things are going smoothly I feel confident and eager about obtaining charitable status. At this time I am appealing to anyone who would like to sit on the board, assist us with the application process or guide us in any other way to please contact me so we can move forward.

Thank you to all who supported me while I was away. Your words of encouragement and donations kept me inspired.

Jennifer

Share This:

Part Three (Part One, Part Two)

My airline ticket was booked for July 15. On July 6 I was taken off a coach and held in police custody for about 2 hours.

I had been traveling from Lilongwe to Ntcheu where Azikiwe and I were hosting a party for the children. This was going to be my last chance to interact with them before leaving. We were giving them each a mosquito net and some clothes along with a lot of food and hopefully some good memories.

I’ve been in Malawi for a total of 12 months over the past 4 years. I have never been asked for a passport.

I wasn’t surprised when a police officer began to chat with me on the coach. Malawians like to talk to mzungus. I was friendly with him at first, answering his questions and asking him questions of my own.

Finally he asked to see my passport. I had the passport with me but it was useless since the visa was expired by 6 weeks.

I told the officer that my passport was in town at the home of my friend. He insisted that I get off and call my friend. I tried to convince him to believe me and let me go but he insisted. Once off the coach he took me to the police station which was a small building with three rooms. I noticed an Indian man waiting inside.

He too had been pulled off a coach.

After several attempts I was finally able to reach Kalirani who said he’d bring my ticket and the letter stating that my TEP had been approved. Waiting for him was pure torture. I was terrified that I’d be put in jail. I couldn’t control myself. I sat in a corner and sobbed wishing everyone would just leave me alone. The officers kept trying to chat with me but I was unable to answer.

Finally, I calmed down and was able to have a conversation with a plain clothed officer. He seemed impressed by the fact that I was helping children in his home district. At some point I was told that I was free to go but I chose to stay. I was told that I’d face road blocks all the way to Ntcheu today and every day for the next two weeks because they were in the middle of a blitz. Fearing a similar situation further away from Kalirani I chose to remain and wait for him.

When he arrived and we showed the documents to the officers they became agitated. They insisted that they would have to arrest me. They said I had not paid for my work permit and as such I was not legally staying in Malawi. The boss of immigration was called. Now my fear was almost unbearable. The boss knew my whole story.

The person they spoke to advised them to seize my passport. I was told to appear at the immigration office the following day by 8 am to retrieve it. I was allowed to proceed to Ntcheu with a letter stating that my documents had been seized.

Once in Ntcheu I feared returning to Lilongwe. What if I was put in jail until I was deported? I went to the clinic and got a doctor’s note stating that I had malaria and needed bed rest. The note cost me $12 and was very detailed. Malawians take sickness very seriously.

The following week I returned to Lilongwe. On Tuesday I went to retrieve the passport at immigration. I was told to return before my flight on Thursday so that I could be escorted to the airport. I asked if I was going to be escorted in handcuffs. They assured me I would not be cuffed.

On Thursday I went to immigration where, after a long wait, I was given my passport and a long paper. The paper apparently indicated that I was to be deported. To be deported means never being allowed to return to Malawi, on any passport. I tried to explain that I couldn’t be deported but no one listened to me.

Kalirani spoke quietly to the officers in Chichewa. He was told that if I was willing to “help out” I wouldn’t be deported. I was furious but had to agree. Kalirani gave the immigration officer 10 000k (about $85). She rode to the airport with us and was very friendly, of course. At the airport she escorted me through and my passport was stamped “EXIT.”

I’ve now learned that Kalirani had to give $40 to each of the officers back at the office. This meant that he had to go and beg friends to lend him money as I’d not left enough to pay this amount. His donation has apparently enables me to return to Malawi without trouble. He was told that the deportation papers had been destroyed. I’ve asked him to follow up on this next week and be sure that I’m safe to return. If I do go back to Malawi I will be going to Blnatyre not Lilongwe to get my visas.

Needless to say I was thrilled to be on the airplane headed home. It is wonderful to walk down the street and not worry about someone asking for my passport.

I’m glad that ordeal is over!

Share This:

Part II (Part One is here if you missed it.)

Having told the directors of my school of my intention to leave I was asked to write a resignation letter. They took this letter to immigration and told officials there that I’d no longer need the TEP. The officials apparently became angry because I should never have been working in Malawi. They demanded that I leave immediately.

I wasn’t ready to leave. As a teacher I wanted to finish the school year. I had many plans and duties still to carry out for the orphans in Ntcheu. I had no source of income in Canada and living in Malawi is much less expensive. I agreed to stay at Mount Sinai, working half days. No one was told of my reason for leaving each day at the break. We feared the government.

The arrangement was working as well as could be expected. The children asked a lot of questions and I felt guilty for leaving early each day. My colleagues avoided speaking to me because they knew something was not right and didn’t want to make things worse. One colleague showed great interest and concern.

After two weeks of this part time work I received a phone call at home. I was told not to return to school at all, ever. I was told I could come in on Saturday to collect my personal items. Apparently immigration had called the school to investigate whether or not I’d left the country as promised. This call from immigration came on the same day that my colleague stayed home from school. She had been told the day before that her contract was not being renewed.

By this time it was early June. I diligently completed the report cards and visited the day care as often as I could. One day in mid-June the directors showed up at my house to tell me I must vacate by the end of the month. The rent had been paid until the end of July but they claimed they were afraid that immigration officials would find me there. They had earlier told me immigration had no right to ask for my home address.

When I asked where I should go to live the director replied, “Don’t you have some friends you can stay with?” She was fixated on this idea that I was in Malawi to adopt a baby. Apparently she had heard that news from the same colleague whose contract hadn’t been renewed. She wouldn’t believe me when I told her that I had no intention of adopting a baby. She did assure me that I’d be paid, by a personal cheque, for the month of June.

At the end of June I moved out. No one from the school came to assist or to say goodbye. The landlady, a friend of that same colleague, stayed inside her house and didn’t acknowledge my departure.

The story doesn’t end here. The worst was yet to come.

Read Part Three.

Share This: