Here’s Why You Don’t Want A Zim/Zam Univisa

I was going to Zimbabwe to visit a friend and wanted to spend some time as well in neighboring Zambia.

The two South African countries share the Zambesi River as their border where the mighty Victoria Falls unleashes its power.

I thought that a visa allowing free, unlimited border crossings for 30 days would be ideal. It was available on arrival at Zimbabwe’s Harare International Airport for 50 USD, just 20 USD more than the 30-day visa for Zimbabwe only.

I thought it would be neat to go back and forth enjoying benefits of both sides of the falls in the towns of Livingstone, Zambia, and Victoria Falls on the Zimbabwe side.

But there was a big snag in the plan that didn’t occur to me until too late.

Covid tests.

Covid, or PCR tests, aren’t addressed in the run-up to getting the so-called Kaza Univisa by either the government of Zambia or Zimbabwe, nor in the travel literature I read hyping the Univisa’s benefits.

Yet the fact is you need to get a new PCR test within a 48-hour period to cross each time during the 30 days you have to use your Univisa.

I found that out the hard way.

I thought I had it made after entering Zambia from Zimbabwe upon arrival by showing my passport in which the handsome Univisa was prominently affixed to one of the blank pages. When asked, I presented the Covid test taken for my flight from Cairo to Harare airport in Zimbabwe, where I purchased the Univisa upon arrival. Though by then it was a week old.

I admit I was sweating the date of that test but no one blinked an eye the first two times I crossed the river. I thought the Univisa was working exactly the way it was supposed to.

After all, since it was good for a month, the requirement for a new Covid test every two days would make it very expensive and impractical to use, especially with tests in these countries costing a minimum of 30 USD up to 250 USD, depending on how soon you wanted the results.

Day 3, however, was different. I was returning to Zambia, where I was staying, after a day hiking and photographing the falls on the Zimbabwe side. When I presented my passport and and visa, sans PCR test, to the immigration clerk for Zambia. She called over a supervisor, who called over another supervisor, and three of us went into an office to talk.

The upshot of the conversation was that I couldn’t reenter Zambia, where I’d already spent two nights in a rented room and where my stuff was, without a new Covid test.

I explained why I thought I didn’t need one, and the IO who interrogated me agreed that the Univisa scheme didn’t make any sense. But then he pointed to the fine print on a document taped to the wall that said the government of Zambia requires a Covid test. Period. No mention of any passes for a Univisa.

He sat down with a sigh and said, “So, what are we going to do?”

I suggested that I’d get a test immediately at my expense and henceforth every time I cross the border.

But that didn’t seem to be the right answer. The IO guy looked around, quietly consulted his fellow officer, and suggested that for 40 USD he would have the clerk stamp my passport, allowing me back into Zambia. But I was not to try leaving Zambia again until I was tested, and then only to catch my bus back to Harare.

I quickly weighed my options, the most likely being denied entry into Zambia. I pulled two U.S. twenties from my wallet and watched them disappear into the IO’s pocket.

“Don’t say anything about this,” he said. “It’s between us, ‘brothers’.” We sealed the deal with a fist bump.

Just like that — simple bribery, the greasing of palms — having nothing to do with rules and order, just another episode of what’s real on the road.

The clerk was alerted to stamp me through and I left the immigration counter exchanging eye contact and a solemn, knowing nod with the IO seated nearby. 

For my fellow travelers, just be advised that the Zim-Zam Univisa is just a flim-flam money-maker for the local covid testing industries, national governments, and corrupt local immigration officials.

Don’t buy it.

Travel well, my friends. I make my mistakes so that you don’t have to.

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(TRAVEL NOTES: I decided to post this now, a day after I relocated from Africa to India where I expect to be for at least a month, ending the frenzied schedule of countries I undertook over the past six weeks. I don’t intend to do that again any time soon; slow and easy is the much better way to go. But it’s left me with many photos and stories to post going as far back as Greece, so expect a mix of travel posts here coming soon.)