When Olubunmi Tunji-Ojo, the Minister of Interior, stated that Nigerians could now apply for their international passports from the comfort of their homes, this reporter’s hopes were as high as a skyscraper. In this report for FIJ, he documents his experience going through the process.

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You may call me superstitious, but I always pay attention to patterns in my life. And because I tend to read meanings to patterns – oh, sometimes my readings are wrong! – I sensed that the bouts of frustration I encountered while uploading my passport photograph on the international passport application website were the universe’s way of speaking to me.

The episodes of frustration I encountered on the domestic passport application portal starting on January 15 set the tone for what I was bound to experience at the immigration office in Ilesa, Osun State, when I went there for my biometric capture on Thursday, January 25.

I commenced the application for a fresh passport on January 8 by first entering my National Identification Number (NIN), after which I was directed to the next page tagged “Passport Type”. Here, I had to fill in details like the processing state, processing office, booklet type and validity. But I could not decide on the first two. I knew I did not want to pick Lagos State, so I spent the entire week thinking and gathering the required supporting documents I would later upload on the website.

READ ALSO: After FIJ’s Story, Immigration Orders Investigation Into Non-Compliance With 2-Week Passport Processing Time

The following week, January 15, to be precise, I had made a decision. I chose Ilesa in Osun State for two reasons. One, I did not know anyone at the centre. Two, the centre was somewhat new because it was just commissioned in March 2023, 10 months before I applied for a passport. Even though I had found a few discouraging reviews about this centre, I wanted to believe the rot that had consumed the fabric of the passport system would be a bit minimal in Ilesa.

After choosing the Ilesa office, I proceeded to the next session to upload my passport photograph. I spent two days trying to upload the right passport photograph. Two colleagues of mine became my photographers on January 15 and 16, but the website rejected all of the pictures they took for different reasons.

The photos I uploaded were rejected because of International Civil Aviation Organisation (ICAO) compliance issues. The photos were rejected for reasons like a lack of proper lighting, a tilted face, and a lack of clarity with a continuous tone quality.

I experienced a breakthrough with the photo upload on the afternoon of January 16. I felt like hugging God right on the spot because it was an answered prayer, considering that I was tired.

The next part of the online application process was pretty much seamless. I filled in my personal details, contact information and next of kin information, and then I uploaded supporting documents: a birth certificate issued by the National Population Commission and my local government’s certificate of indigeneship.

PAYMENT

The standard passport booklet fee for five years costs N35,000, but at the payment checkout, you’d pay either N300 or N1,400 as a processing fee, depending on the payment methods.

I saw five payment methods when I was about to pay on Wednesday, January 17, 2024. Payfixy and SaanaPay, the first two, allow card and cash-at-bank payments, while Paystack and Unified Payments allow only payments via cards. TeasyPay, the only one with a N300 processing fee, allows payments via Teasy E-Wallet.

When I checked through TeasyPay’s website, I was required to submit certain details, like my full name, bank verification number (BVN), email address and home or business address, among others.

In the end, I chose Payfixy, even though it meant doing what I hated doing – using my bank card details for online payment. I would have preferred an option for bank transfers.

READ ALSO: ‘The Stress Is Just Too Much’ — What Nigerians Go Through to Correct Wrong Data on Passports

APPLICATION DATE FOR CAPTURING

Before I completed the application, I found on the website that the next available date for capturing at the Ilesha passport office was January 22, 2024.

Although there was a disclaimer – The date(s) displayed below are for information purpose only and are not a guarantee of availability – I had prepared to travel on the preceding weekend because the supposed available date was Monday.

After successfully completing the payment process, a piece of information beneath the payment page showed that I had to book an appointment before going to Ilesa for my biometric capture.

I clicked on ‘Book Appointment’ and was directed to another page, where an equal mixture of shock and frustration gave me a stunning slap. One, I found that only five days (25, 26, 29, 30 and 31) in the whole of January were available for appointments. Other days were struck out, meaning they were not available for booking.

I selected my preferred date and time, but I spent hours trying to book a slot due to an error message showing that my appointment booking failed.

I had been applying on my laptop, but when I decided to use my phone, it was successful on the first attempt. Perhaps it was pure coincidence, sheer luck or an answered prayer.

GUARANTOR’S FORM ‘WAHALA’

After booking a slot, I downloaded my appointment booking slip, which contained a list of documents, among other details, I had to bring on my appointment date.

I decided to check the list of items, only to find that I had to come with a completed guarantor’s form duly signed by a commissioner for oaths, attached with a photocopy of the data page of the guarantor’s Nigerian e-passport and one passport-sized photograph of the guarantor.

Taking these along was not an issue. The issue was how to get the form. All through the days I was applying for my passport, I did not accidentally come across any guarantor’s form on the website.

In fact, some of my friends who got their passports years earlier could not remember if they even had to submit such a form or how they even got around it.

The response I got from a friend was: “Guarantor? When did they start that one? Don’t know about that one oo.”

To say I was perplexed would be an understatement. On the morning of Thursday, January 18, 2024, I checked X (formerly called Twitter) to know whether I was alone in this guarantor’s form quagmire.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, some of the search results showed that I was in the same shoes as other people. Between January 11 and 17, four Nigerians had separately inquired about where and how to get the passport guarantor’s form.

In response to these inquiries, someone said he had read online that it was no longer a requirement; another person said it could be printed from the immigration website; and another said, “For recent application, it is not there.” Someone else with the same problem noted that there was no tab to print the form on the website.

READ ALSO: CONFIRMED: Despite Minister’s Claims, Passports Still Take 6 Months to Process in Lagos — Or a Lot of Bribes

Prior to this time, I had thought of calling the immigration office for inquiries on this frustrating form, but I wanted that option to be my last resort.

A friend at work, who had applied for her passport online in December before the refurbished application process launched in January, said I could search for the form using the following keywords: passport guarantor’s form.

I did and was directed to a page where I had to search for my application by entering my reference number plus either my application number or date of birth. But, despite entering the required details multiple times using both my laptop and smartphone, I could not access any guarantor’s form, as the page was not available.

After hours of unsuccessful attempts to get a guarantor’s form, I checked the immigration website for a suitable contact to reach out to. I called the number for complaints and inquiries. Alas, I was in for another round of frustration. I dialled this number 11 times between 01:42 pm and 02: 05 pm that Thursday, but it was not reachable.

I also called another number I found on the website, but an automated voice kept saying, “the number is on another call”.

Then I went to the official page of the immigration ministry on X, where I found a list of three numbers available for inquiries. I dialled the first number, and, thankfully, a male official answered the call on the second dial.

I told the official my predicament in getting the guarantor’s form after he had asked for my name and where I was calling from. Then he asked if I had booked an appointment and also made payment, to which I responded in the affirmative.

Afterwards, he said, “Just go to the office on your appointment day. They will help you with the guarantor’s form. You know it’s a new platform. It doesn’t give room for a guarantor. When you go to their office, they will provide it for you.”

When I asked how the guarantor would sign it, he said, “You can sign on behalf of the guarantor. Just go with a photocopy of the guarantor’s passport data page and one of the guarantor’s passport photographs. You will just attach it to the guarantor’s form. Then you will sign on behalf of him (the guarantor). There is a court office where they will stamp it. The guarantor can be anybody that is related to you, whose address and phone number you have.”

THE FIRST HINT OF FRUSTRATION IN ILESA

If I had envisaged what I would experience in Ilesa on Thursday, January 25, I would have just stayed back at home. Though my appointment was for 9:00 am, I got there minutes before the scheduled time.

Ilesa was thick with harmattan-induced cold that morning, and I felt I would complete my biometric capture in no time since I was one of the applicants who made it there before 9:00 am, but I would spend more hours than I envisaged at the passport office.

On his timeline on X, the interior minister had shared a flyer conveying how enrolment for one’s international passport could be done in ‘five simple steps’.

After taking the first three steps online, the fourth step was supposed to be as simple as ABC. How difficult can it be to just walk into an immigration office for your biometric capture? In Nigerian parlance, I saw shege pro max at the Ilesha immigration office.

NETWORK ISSUE, NO BIOMETRIC CAPTURE

A fair-complexioned male immigration officer addressed us around 9.20 am. K.O. Okwuchi was inscribed on the name tag on his uniform. The man spoke so nicely that I found myself slightly believing that what I’d gone there to do would pan out, but I would be disappointed. Going there that Thursday would turn out to be a waste of time and energy.

“For those of you who are here for biometrics, please exercise patience because we have network issues. If the network comes, we will attend to you. But those of you who are here for passport collection, bring your slip if you have it with you. Exercise patience; we are here to serve you, and we will serve you effectively,” said Okwuchi.

From that morning until the evening, those who came for biometric capture couldn’t go ahead because of this network issue, while others were being issued their passports.

Many people left in anger, as they had other personal matters to attend to, but I waited in endless hope. Some even attempted to meet the officers one-on-one to understand what was going on, but the story was the same: a network issue.

I overheard some people discussing how they had been visiting the office for close to two weeks but were unable to do their biometric capture because of this same network issue.

A guy, who disclosed that he had been coming to the Ilesa centre since Monday, could not hide his frustration as he complained about the delay.

“I have sent emails to the official email address of the immigration office. But they have not responded. What kind of network are they using? I learned that the issue is with their server. When will they rectify it? They are just delaying people’s plans,” he lamented.

Another lady said, “I asked one of the officials, but she told me that they didn’t have the machine they would use for capturing. She blamed the immigration headquarters in Abuja, saying they were yet to finalise the process.”

True to the lady’s words, I would later learn from different officers that “Abuja had not given them what was required to capture fresh applicants who applied via the new process”. But they were hopeful it would be resolved in the coming weeks.

I also observed that many applicants were willing to offer bribes just to fast-track whatever they were there to do. Many people had travelled down to Ilesha from different parts of the country, so you cannot really blame them. The desperation on the faces of many of those who sat in the pavilion was palpable.

There was even a woman from the neighbouring Republic of Benin who had lost all hope. She just wanted to get it over and done with.

I overheard her telling someone, “The thing is, I don’t even know who to approach. Even if it’s N20,000, I am ready to give them. I don’t even mind paying N50,000 if that is what they want.”

Amid the unwritten think pieces being peddled among applicants across the Ilesha centre, Officer Okwuchi would come back to address us under the pavilion. He invited applicants who came for passport collection and then told the rest to exercise patience because of “network issues”.

Not once did he mention that we could submit the photocopied documents we brought with us. Even when some of us entered the office building to make inquiries, some of the responses, especially from female officers, were so curt and flippant. It was as though their empathy had gone out the door.

Whether they should be blamed or not is not the question, but a detailed explanation from them would have erased all doubts. At some point, some of us felt they were deliberately hostile to online applicants. But I would later learn that even some applicants who enrolled manually could not go ahead with the biometric capture.

After several rounds of back and forth, I was able to submit photocopies of the documents I took along. But then, the main goal of going to the centre, which was for biometric capture, was futile.

While I submitted the documents, one of the officers hinted that I would have to come back for my biometric capture some other time. However, no one could give a definite response on when that would be.

I left the centre around 4 pm, unsure of when I would return for my biometric capture. I had no answers to the burning question on my mind: when will the network issue be resolved? I had to restrain myself from crying because it wouldn’t have solved anything. I blamed myself for trusting the government. I blamed myself for applying online. I blamed myself for wasting more than seven hours in the name of hope.

The interior minister had claimed that the automated process from the point of application to the point of collection would not take more than two weeks, but so far, it’s as good as living in a bubble. I wonder how this would be feasible amid the roadblocks encountered along the way.

This story was produced with support from the Wole Soyinka Centre for Investigative Journalism (WSCIJ) under the Collaborative Media Engagement for Development Inclusivity and Accountability project (CMEDIA) funded by the MacArthur Foundation