Corruption

This is a common topic of conversion in Mozambique and a word people think of with most poorer countries. It’s certainly something we all experience on a daily basis in Mozambique. I’ll start with a few examples of where we across it everyday living in Mozambique.

A short while ago I was stopped for speeding. Fair enough I was travelling at 70km/h in a 60km/h zone. I’s just like to say this wasn’t through the middle of a village or anything. But the limit was 60 and I was breaking it. I was also driving a car with four kayaks on the roof, so when he showed me the image of the speed camera with the car we had a bit of a laugh that it was definitely me. There were four policeman there. I got out of the car looked at the image (to check they had one) and to have a chat. This is all done in Portuguese, at which I try my best, but as Imogen will tell you, I try, but have a long way to go. Once my misdemeanours have been explained, one of the policeman explains there is no need to worry, he can sort it out and I can just go. Great I say knowing it’s really not going to be that easy. So, he walks with me back to the car. I get in and do up my seatbelt. The policeman is waiting by my open window. Not quite with his hand out but it is more than clear what he waiting for. A “Fresco”. Literally translated a cold soft drink. But, that’s not what they really want. Cash is preferred. Never a large amount. I could have slipped the policeman a few hundred Meticais (a couple of UK pounds) and been on my way but I didn’t. Once he realised his “fresco” wasn’t forthcoming I asked, “Am I OK to go now?”

“No” Was the swift and slightly grumpy response. So, I got out and headed back to the police car, where another of the policeman took me under his wing. He explained the fine was 2000 Mts (about £25 and the correct fine for speeding). He explained that it was a lot of paperwork and he could just pay now without bothering with all of the paperwork. I asked for an official ticket. The police can fine you on the spot, but you can always get the paperwork. I explained I didn’t have much cash with me so if he could give me a ticket I could go to the police station in the morning to pay.

“No problem” he explained ” I’ll hold on to your driving license, you can drive to the police station in Matola” (this is two and a half hours away and it was less than two hours before dark) pay and return with proof of payment.

Tempting as the five hour wild goose chase was I declined. He said it would be easier if I just gave him the money and went on my way. When I didn’t he wandered up fed up and I gained a new friend. By this time it was getting a bit slow. It was tight getting into Maputo before dark and I had a bundle of kids in the car. I just kept asking for my official ticket. He said I could go.  And this time he meant it. The police had stopped me for speeding, refused to give me a genuine ticket and spent fifteen minutes trying to get a bribe from me.

Another example is when we went to renew our residency permit. The office for this is about half an hour from the house. It was infamous in our family as on our first visit we had waited so long. The café nearby is known to all non-Mozambicans in the area. As they have all spent so long waiting around this are of Matola (the next door city to Maputo). I arrived and we all sat on the un-comfy plastic chairs in the waiting area. The waiting area feels slightly like a prison. We have a roof over our heads shading us from the sun and it’s open sided with bars all around. Inside is where the visas are processed. There are a couple of guards and a lot of people hanging around. We are waiting. People are gradually going in and we are still waiting. Then we are told we need to show our marriage certificate. We are entitled to a residency permit due to Zoe’s job here. There is no law that I must be married to Zoe for this visa arrangement to work. But they won’t take no for an answer.  I then have to drive the hour or more round trip to get the marriage certificate. But, when I return there is another problem. It’s in English and it needs to be in Portuguese, as all official documents need to be. Despite the fact that 90% of the certificate is names, which don’t translate. On top of that it must only be translated by an officially approved translator (who are generally poor at translation) and then notarised (which is some sort of system of officially approving copied or translated documents). Luckily Zoe’s work can arrange all of that. But it’s most of the rest of the afternoon to finish.  By the end of the afternoon Zoe and kids had their residency permit and I had nothing. So I had to go back the next day. I arrived at 9:30 as requested and was one of the first there. But again, my permit wasn’t processed until just before they were going to shut at 2pm. Why did I have to wait and give extra documents for a process that should be quick, where all the paperwork had been pre-done. The simple answer was that I wasn’t paying the guards and the staff to move to the front of the queue. And as I was someone who clearly had money I was also pushed to the back and delayed to encourage me to relent and hand over some cash.

These are just some examples I have come across. But corruption is rife and cuts across all areas of life. I was asked for a “Fresco” from a guard at the local park where I was just trying to get in and walk the dog. The culture of  bribery and corruption causes lots of problems in the country. Vast amounts of money aimed to help people just disappears into pockets. Money from people with nothing, lines the pockets of those who have got into a position of authority.

But it’s so ingrained and institutionalised it’s almost impossible to stop. Let’s look a little harder at the policeman who stopped me. Corrupt police, get rid of them, you might think. There is certainly no shortage of labour here and people who would jump at the chance of the job. But how do they become a police officer? They need to go and speak to one of the people who control entrance into the police. Who are of course, corrupt. So, an aspirant policeman needs quite a large amount of money, or more likely, get into quite a lot of debt, before he can even fill in a form to apply to the police. And for those lucky few who then make it through to the police as a uniformed officer, what do they find? Their salaries are very low. Too low to feed their families and cover the debt they got into becoming a policeman. So, if they want to feed their children, there is only one way to get the money. And that’s what every other officer on the force is also doing, so it’s hard to stand out and not follow suit. Especially when you need to put food on the table.

We try to avoid feeding the cycle, and usually you can, but it takes patience and time. And how much difference does it make in such an intrenched problem? In reality not a great deal. It’s going to take years, massive cultural chance and a country with much more money before much of a dent can be made on this problem.