Monday, April 13, 2026

Please confirm in writing that you are you

Today, I went to apply for a visa.

Of course we have learnt over the years that for visa appointments, one must arrive at the office early, carrying a thick folder with  EVERYTHING.

Inside that folder was my life, in paper form.

  • Invitation letter, check
  • Passport, check
  • National ID, check
  • Birth certificate, check
  • Copy of mother's ID, check
  • Copy of father's ID, check
  • Water bill, check
  • Land title, check
  • Police clearance, check
  • Bank statements, check
  • Letter from the bank confirming that the statements were genuine, check
  • Letter from my employer confirming that I work where I say I work, check
  • Employment contract, check
  • Travel itinerary, check
  • Hotel bookings, check

In short, I carried enough evidence to prove that I exist and live a purpose driven life in Uganda.

I handed everything over with the confidence of someone has experienced and respected bureaucracy enough to leave no gap. The officer looked through the documents carefully, turned a few pages, paused, then said:

"We also need a letter from you introducing yourself."

Wait. What?

A letter?

From me?

Introducing myself?

For a second, I thought I had misunderstood, because I was standing right there, directly in front of them, in full human form, not represented by a cousin with whom I share a name, face to face not through Zoom, and not even hiding behind dark glasses.

My passport had my face.
My national ID had my face.
Even the police clearance had looked at that same face and agreed that, yes, this face belongs to someone known to the Republic.

But apparently none of those had yet completed the final step, which was for me to now write and formally announce that I am indeed myself.

I remember thinking: what exactly was this letter expected to say?

Was I to begin:

Dear Sir/Madam,
I am writing to confirm that I am the person currently sitting opposite you.

Or maybe:

Kindly note that despite the attached documents, I remain available in my physical form as further evidence.

No. I would take it serious and write the letter properly, because this ridiculous bureaucracy required serious imagination.

To whom it may concern,
I write to introduce myself as myself. I have been this person consistently for many years, with only minor adjustments in size, handwriting, and political opinions. Attached kindly find supporting documents from various government institutions who have also reached the same conclusion.

I would follow this with another paragraph:

My National ID confirms my identity. My passport confirms my face. My bank confirms my account. My employer confirms my labour. The police confirm my relative peacefulness. I now add my own confirmation in case all previous witnesses, including my physical presence, require reinforcement.

What made it even funnier was how normal this all seemed. No one laughed. The visa officer did not lean over and say, "yes, we know this sounds strange but it is what it is."

It was simply the next item on the list.

This is the fascinating thing about systems. Once something enters a checklist, it immediately gains authority far beyond common sense. It no longer matters that you are present, identifiable, documented, and answering questions in real time. If Box Seven requires a letter, then Box Seven must receive its letter.

So yes, I wrote the letter. I wrote it because I needed the visa and I am an adult.

From where my feet are, the system taught me an important lesson that sometimes being yourself is not enough, you must submit yourself in writing.

3 comments:

  1. Must we first be dehumanized, so that the system can humanize us again before we get access to their countries?

    ReplyDelete
  2. Lol...the information you'd carried in that fat envelope probably bore no resemblance to the person presenting herself before the visa officer, hence the need for you to confirm that you were indeed yourself - tone of voice (bearing no criminal intent) , confidence of posture (in sync with the bank balance) etc. Something similar happened to me today when I received a call from the bank asking me to confirm that I was indeed well and not under duress and that I had willingly initiated a transaction - which I had, complete with a facial recognition to authenticate the transaction.
    Systems. We live by them. We're inconvenienced by them.

    ReplyDelete
  3. This is brilliantly captured.
    It shows how bureaucracy can make you feel diminished.
    It seems like it’s doing you a favour.

    ReplyDelete

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