This article is actually part three of my journey in Zimbabwe.

A New Chapter: Back to Zimbabwe

In June 2025, I returned to Zimbabwe after growing frustrated with South Africa’s visa application process. This time, I was travelling with friends. While preparing for the trip, I discovered that a new, more streamlined e-visa platform had been set up, which made the process considerably more fluid and straightforward.

We agreed to do a “3-in-1” trip: Zimbabwe, Botswana, and Zambia. As usual, there is always a gap between what we plan and what we actually manage to do.

The KAZA Univisa: My Greatest Recommendation

For anyone planning to visit Zimbabwe, my strongest recommendation is to apply for the KAZA Univisa, which is a combined travel permit that allows visitors to explore Zimbabwe, Zambia, and Botswana for a flat fee of just $50 USD (depending on your passport).

This visa is especially worth it if your trip takes you through Victoria Falls Town. From Victoria Falls Town to the Kazungula border on the Botswana side, the drive takes between 45 minutes and one hour at most. Most travellers and tour companies organise a day trip to Botswana to visit Chobe National Park. Prices vary depending on the company you choose , and make sure to check what type of vehicle they use. From Victoria Falls Town to Livingstone, Zambia, it is just a 25-minute drive. Basically, with this visa, you can comfortably explore all three countries in a short period of time.

Unfortunately, as a Cameroonian passport holder, I was not eligible for the KAZA Univisa, so I paid entry fees for each country separately: Zimbabwe at $45 (double entry), Botswana at $25 (day entry), and Zambia at $50 (single entry). Being African and travelling within Africa with an African passport remains, sadly, a costly affair.

Playing the Last-Minute Card and Losing

With our decisions made, I applied for my Zimbabwean visa on time. For Zambia, however, I decided to play it last-minute and I paid for it.

After concluding our stay in Victoria Falls Town, we set off for Zambia via Livingstone. Unlike Zimbabwe, Zambia has always been my complicated love story of a country, and my second attempt to visit proved that feeling right.

Arriving at the Zambia immigration post without a visa approval letter, I was playing a risky game, and I obviously lost.

I convinced myself that the immigration officer could simply check the system to verify my application, since I had submitted it three days prior. Big mistake.

After the officer finished delivering the speech I absolutely deserved for arriving at an immigration post without an approved visa, she decided to take a closer look at my application. She asked for my application number to track it in their system, and that is where the story took a fascinating turn.

While pulling up my file, she asked for my passport. Then she asked whether I had applied using a different passport from the one I was currently holding. I said no.

Through the glass partition, I could see her conferring with a colleague, both of them pointing at the computer screen with puzzled expressions.

She returned to the counter and announced the strangest, most baffling thing I had ever heard at a border crossing:

“Ma’am, I am looking at your file in the system, but there is an issue. The passport number we are seeing here does not correspond to the passport number you are currently holding. And on top of that, it shows your nationality as Burundian.”

My face dropped. “What? That is not possible.”

“Unfortunately, that is what appears in your application,” she replied.

As for the passport number, it turned out to be the one from my previous passport, the one I had used when I first entered Zambia back in 2021. Of course, I did not have that old passport with me. But what neither of us could explain was how “Burundian” had ended up as my listed nationality in their system.

An Office Case in the Making

My situation was quickly becoming an office affair, drawing attention across the immigration hall.

The officer checked the documents I had uploaded with my application (my passport biodata page, photo, hotel booking, and vaccination card). She acknowledged that the passport shown in my uploaded files matched the one I was holding. She asked me to step aside while she contacted headquarters for guidance on how to proceed.

I watched her on the phone, explaining the situation in a tone that mixed surprise and genuine empathy.

When she hung up, she asked if I had my old passport with me. I did not.

She made another call, relayed that information, chatted briefly, then hung up again.

Her conclusion, unfortunately, I could not enter Zambia. My application had been flagged, and I would need to correct the information before it could be approved. Without that correction, there was no way through the border.

She added that, had I been carrying the old passport, the outcome might have been different.

I could not believe that Zambia was turning me away.

My friend, who had already had her passport stamped with the Zambian entry visa, was forced to exit alongside me in solidarity. Frustration and irritation hung thick in the air.

The Bug That Sealed My Fate

Back outside, with our driver still patiently waiting, I opened the Zambia visa application portal on my phone. I attempted to correct the erroneous passport number and nationality, and discovered something infuriating. After updating the information and resubmitting, the platform kept reverting to the old, incorrect details.

That was my confirmation, the error had never been mine. The problem was a bug in the system itself.

Clinging to one last sliver of hope, we returned to the immigration office to present our findings. The same officer attended to us. I showed her, in real time, how I could make the corrections but the platform would not retain them, proof that the fault lay entirely with the online system, not with me.

She picked up the phone again, called headquarters, and explained the platform bug. After a longer conversation, she came back with the same answer:

“I’m sorry, but we still cannot let you in. They will look into the platform issue and return your application so you can resubmit the correct information.”

She was genuinely sorry. The fact that she had spent over an hour on my case speaks to her dedication. It is never pleasant to tell someone they cannot continue their holiday as planned.

We walked back to the car, still frustrated. But as it turned out, my story had one more dramatic twist in store.

I was in no man’s land 

Back at the Zimbabwe immigration post, I joined the queue knowing full well that I was in trouble.

My visa had been a double-entry permit. I had used my second entry when I crossed over to visit Kasane, Botswana. I was now attempting to re-enter Zimbabwe with no entries remaining.

Faced with three immigration officers, I did what any reasonable person would do, I carefully studied their expressions and chose the one who looked the most approachable.

When he picked up my passport and checked the exit stamps, he said plainly, “You know you did wrong, right?“

My friend attempted to offer some creative cover story on my behalf.

“She knows she did wrong,” the officer said. “She is conscious of it.“

Knowing that things could not get much worse, I simply pleaded guilty and explained the entire situation honestly.

When I say Zimbabweans are friendly, trust me, they truly are.

The officer’s tone shifted from stern to gently sarcastic. He asked, “What were you even going to see in Zambia?“

I played along: “I don’t even know.“

He leaned in: “We have everything here. How can you appreciate the beauty of a woman from behind?“

He was using the metaphor of a woman to describe Victoria Falls, suggesting that viewing the Falls from the Zambian side was like looking at a beautiful woman from behind, while Zimbabwe offered you the full, face-on picture.

We laughed. His illustrations were genuinely amusing.

But amid the laughter, the reality remained, I was, at that moment, technically a persona non grata, claimed by neither Zambia nor Zimbabwe. In the worst-case scenario, I would have had to apply for a new visa and wait at the border post until it was approved, watching baboons to pass the time.

The Solution Nobody Expected

The officer pulled me back from my thoughts. “I think I found a solution for your case.“

My face lit up.

“I will cancel your exit stamp,” he said, “because you did not technically enter Zambian territory.”

That day, I learned something I never knew before: if your visa is still valid and you cross a border but are denied entry to the other country, you can return to the originating country and have your exit stamp cancelled, as though the crossing never happened.

I smiled broadly and thanked him.

He stamped my passport, then added one final instruction: “Do not leave Zimbabwe again unless you are returning to your country of residence. You have used all your entries.”

I nodded, and just like that, I was back in Victoria Falls Town, Zimbabwe.

Lessons From the Frontier

Because staying frustrated is exhausting, my friend and I eventually dissolved into laughter recounting the whole ordeal. It was then that my friend said, “You were a refugee for a moment.” Reality hit us both, and we laughed even harder.

Had I not been ineligible for the KAZA Univisa, none of this would have happened.

Had I applied for my Zambian visa on time, I would have avoided the border drama entirely and possibly faced an even bigger problem re-entering Zimbabwe without valid entries.

People, travel is an adventure. I lived every bit of it, and I still advocate passionately for intra-Africa tourism. Every chaotic border crossing, every bureaucratic surprise, every laughing immigration officer is part of the story.

And the stories are always worth telling.