Perhaps passengers heading to Khartoum (predominantly Sudanese) do deserve being treated like cattle, seeing that they don’t seem to think rules and procedures are relevant. Plane lands and still is taxi’ing and every one is up grabbing their bags. Repeated requests to sit down until the plane comes to a complete stop failed to impress. Finally, the captain spoke. “I am not going to move the plane and taxi until every one sits down. We can be here all day long.” OK, maybe not cattle, just children.
So, we taxi and get on the bus and off to the terminal. Everyone rushes to the counters and it seems like every plane in Africa landed at that same moment. You would think that kind of pressure would mean that the immigration officers are feeling it. Then you look at them. They operate at a snail’s pace. It’s almost like they would be punished if they processed a passport in less than 3 minutes. I timed them. The passport takes 3-5 minutes to process on average. Do you know how long it takes for an Dubai immigration officer to process my passport when I land? Do you want to know the average? I’ll tell you. 30 seconds.
I’m standing in line, sending my brother text messages telling him about the ninja woman who tried to cut in front of me. If you know me you know, I did not allow for that to happen. When I asked her why she’s jumping the line she shrugged and said, “7urma” (translation: woman). Naturally I dismissed that as ridiculous and made sure she didn’t cut in front of me.
Then it was my turn. I’m already annoyed and it’s been almost an hour of waiting for my turn. I see the guy pull up a piece of paper and write down my name, file number then again my name and another file number. I ask him, why are you guys doing things using papers like this when you have computer systems too? He looked up at me and grinned (same guy pictured above) and said, “Oh, you’ve never had someone write down your name like this before?” I said no and he just kept a smirk on his face. I didn’t understand why until he called another officer, handed him my passport and told me to follow him.
I asked what for and he just said, there is a ban on you. A ban? What is this? A GCC country? I’m a citizen dammit! Who the hell is going to ban me from entering my own country? So I follow the guy and head upstairs where there are other people sitting waiting.
One guy has forged his passport, the other his Saudi visa.. another guy has a “small drug problem” as he described it. Another guy’s picture and data on the passport don’t match. I felt funny being in their company but also thought that this was obviously a mistake. I asked again what this was about and they said there is a ban on me (effectively a warrant for my arrest) at the behest of a minister. What minister? No one knows.
At that point, I called my brother who’s waiting for me and told him that this could take a while, explaining where I am. I then proceeded to remove my necklace as I am sure some officers will not appreciate a man wearing gold. I looked down and realized I was wearing shorts.
You see, before even leaving Dubai, I joked about how there were bearded short-thobed Saudi’s boarding ahead of me and how I’m balancing things up with my shorts. I also know that shorts aren’t exactly the most popular attire for men in Sudan. You don’t want to be the guy getting arrested wearing shorts. I thought, damn, Karma is a bitch!
I turned on data roaming and sent out a tweet to let people know I’m detained. I had no idea what the deal is, but I knew that if there was a serious problem then letting the world know is my best bet of getting out.
The officers had their lunch (or breakfast by Sudanese timing) all laid out and no one really seemed to be bothered by who’s there and who’s waiting. Occasionally some guy would walk in and talk to one of the guys and fill in a form. When my turn came, there was very little to ask. He just asked where I came from and that’s it. I felt more uncomfortable. He didn’t seem to even know why I’m being held.
A few minutes later I get a call from my father who tells me that he’s on his way with the cavalry – someone who was in the police force who retired and now does private work. I relaxed and waited. When they showed up, I realized how much a contact can change the way you’re treated. The procedure is that I have to wait until they get around to me, drive me to the police HQ where they can verify my identity.
Here’s the thing, no one knows who I am or why I am detained. In fact, the only thing they knew was my full name and that they were to detain a person by the name “Mohamed Kamal” (Kamal being my father’s name). If they had other information they did not share it with me. So the only way to find out if I am the one they are looking for and what I’m wanted for is to go to the police HQ where they have a physical file with a picture of the wanted person.
As luck has it, our contact managed to expedite the process and we ended up going in our private car with their escort and even gave another detained person a ride with us. That’s Sudanese for ya.
At the police HQ and after a good 30 minutes of shadowing my contact and running from office to another, I learned that they don’t have this file. It is with the National Intelligence and Security Services HQ. You know, the NISS are the guys who did this. They’re not the kind of people you want to have a run-in with. Not even if it were a case of a name mix-up. Oh, and not in shorts!
So we left our escort, got a piece of paper from the police HQ asking the NISS to tell them who I am. We headed to the NISS HQ. At this point, I started to recount every tweet and blog post I’ve ever done. I couldn’t come up with anything that would make me so important or worthy of an arrest. I most certainly am not a threat to anyone’s security. My contact turned to me and asked me to stay in the car while he goes in to sort this out.
Wait in the car? I’ve known this guy for awhile now and he helps me out with processing ridiculous paperwork that you have to do when you go in and out of Sudan. He’s never asked me to stay in the car. I shadow him wherever he goes. Think of the NISS as that area in the GTA4 game that you have not gained access to yet? You know, once you cross every police car and helicopter in the game comes chasing after you? That’s where we were. That is probably the first moment when I felt a little scared.
He spent another half hour inside while I sat with the driver talking about anything and everything to keep my mind off the real subject. Am I going to jail? And not just any jail.. but these guys do have a reputation. Am I about to find out if that reputation was fairly earned or not? Do I even want to? And what the hell did I SAY! What did I write? I keep going over everything in my head. Nothing comes up. OK, a few things but all are benign.
My guy walks out, gets in the car and hands me a piece of paper telling me that we’re good. It turns out the guy they want is a JEM (Justice and Equality Movement) rebel from Darfur. In fact, we suspect (not the NISS, but my family) that they actually mean “Ahmed Kamal Eldin” who is a lawyer and resided in Bahrain (could possibly still be there). So, Ahmed, if you’re reading this, I wouldn’t fly to Khartoum just yet.
Now there was another document that had to be issued by the police HQ that says I’m not the one wanted by your “ban”. I have to carry this paper along with my passport, my compulsory service temporary exemption card and exit visa with me everything I want to go in and out of Sudan. I need my passport only to enter and exit Dubai.
All in all, it was an interesting experience. Admittedly, this could have taken days to sort out without having someone run things through all the bureaucracy and incompetence. I had family go through my blog to see if it could be cause for worry and it turns out, despite being unthinkable in countries in the region, it isn’t the case for Sudan. I realized how fortunate we are to be able to express ourselves, with all the limitations, relative to people in the GCC.
I also found that even though no one seemed to be bothered by detained people, no one treated me or others as criminals. There was a general indifference and incompetence, but never did I feel that I was treated as a criminal. This is even before I had anyone come in to ‘rescue me’. I can’t say the same when I was in the middle of a frivilous lawsuit by a competitor in Dubai. I was treated as a criminal before the case even went to court. For that, I am thankful.
On the whole, I was annoyed and inconvenienced, but I had an experience that was educational. I also don’t plan to travel to Khartoum in shorts again 
I didn’t care much for the cattle reference, didn’t care much at all. But otherwise, it’s a good account of how things could go bad. There are, however, worse cases as I’ve told you in private before. Alhamdulilah.
On the cattle reference, I would like to clarify that it is definitely not my opinion that we should be treated in that way. It’s not like I was treated differently or any better, so I most certainly don’t appreciate it.I find flydubai’s crew’s behavior to be unprofessional and condescending. I’ve always believed that people will act the way you treat them. And if you treat me like an imbecile, I’m most likely going to act like one.Having said that, I don’t think there is an excuse for the lack of respect for one another as Sudanese passengers. No one cares to take their assigned seats, quarrels over who should sit where, ignoring direct orders to sit remain seated, etc. This kind of behavior is completely unacceptable and I can see why we end up being treated as badly as we do. It does not excuse the treatment but it puts it in context.