A brush with Kenyan bureaucracy

Friday morning, I was picked up by the company driver, Robert, and we headed purposefully to the Kenya revenue Authority (KRA) to register for my revenue PIN - this is a number that confirms that I exist as far as the KRA are concerned and also is required for all manner of things in Kenya - including an electricty account and perhaps most surprisingly of all, allows my furniture to come ashore in Mombassa - when it eventually arrives across the Inidan Ocean from Singapore.

So you can imagine how excited I was.

I proceeded to the PIN registration desk and was met by a charming smiling woman.  "I've come to register for a PIN please," I said in utter naivity.  "Hmmm," she countered with another broad smile.  

"Do you have your alien certificate, sir?"

"No, I don't, I was told I needed my work permit and passport only."

"Oh dear, I have bad news for you then, " she responded with a slight grimace to her now ever slightly annoying showing of teeth.  "You will need your alien certificate, since we had a security breach 2 months ago and the ministry have given strict guidelines that we can only accept applications supported by an approved alien certificate."

I called Robert, and we zipped off to Nyayo House - the bastion of all things immigration.

Well, I should have known, that it would have been far too wonderful, if things had gone smoothly.  I bounded up the steps and saw ahead of me a line of people sitting behind grills reminiscent of a 1940s railway ticketing office.  I approached one man - and dared to disturb his reading of the daily newspaper.

I had to extract every piece of information out of him like with verbal plyers.  After 6 or 7 probing questions I managed to glean that I needed a completed form, 2 photos, 2000 shillings and the patience of a saint.  This alien certificate was going to take SIX WEEKS to process.  Even my daring to suggest a "quicker" route - nudge nudge wink wink - was rebuffed. 

So with tail between my legs I slouched out of the immigration dungeon and will submit the necessary (as our Indian friends are inclinded to say) complete with photos and payment next week instead.

Crumpled piece of paper - so-called driving licence

It seems a tad ironic, that my application for a Kenyan drivers' license (see above) was processed in a matter of days and I was issued with the temporary paper copy (presumably to waive at an accosting policeman, should he challenge my right to drive on Kenyan highways).

So there you have it: it takes weeks to get the "right" to pay taxes in Kenya, and mere days to be let loose on the roads to take your life in you own (and more often involuntarily to put in someone elses) hands.