We are on the queue. The security guy at JKIA is asking to see our tickets before he can let us through. With our trolley bags in tow feeling all touristy and on time- yours truly, the self-appointed organizer for all our gate-a ways is armed with all the tools of the trade. Print outs of the E-tickets, vouchers, itinerary, weather forecast, Julius Malema’s age – you need it, I had a copy.

Security confirms that our E-tickets are legit and lets us through. Chit chatting with my friend/ travel partner, I glance over at her side and see her holding a yellow fever certificate in between the pages of her passport. My world suddenly becomes very dark, my own skin becomes inhabitable. The blood drains from my face. Not only do I not have my yellow fever certificate, I absolutely have no clue where it is. Last recall was at the embassy. I and my senior tour consultant self-have no yellow fever certificate yet we are to take a flight to South Africa . They wouldn’t even allow me out of our own airport without it!

Somewhere in my CV it states that I work well under pressure. However should my employer ever come across this piece, I must apologize for really I LIED. I completely became undone, I thought about all the people I had said good bye to. All the wine, I had promised to bring back. Flashes of eagerly waving at my neighbour’s, strangers, Poppy (the stray dog that the neighbourhood had adopted) and telling all of them ‘’nimeenda ngambo’’ ……Maitu Maria where was I going to hide my face?

Thank heavens for a travel buddy who actually works well under pressure .Though I guess it’s easier to think straight and spring into action when you are not the one threatened by the possibility of being left behind. To return back to the sorry looking left overs that you had dismissed with self-importance. For how does one eat such local food when you are going ‘Ngambo’ you tell me?

Eileen takes charge, knowing exactly what to do. Suggests I call my daughter who is as sharp as they come . She immediately rummages through my chaos and finds the certificate – not an easy fit, I must add, considering I am the most disorganized person I know. She sends a copy on WhatsApp which was helpful not but at least she was trying. We dial an Uber to send on this expedition but because the devil likes to have a good laugh every once in a while this is the day your request connects to a human who makes you wonder – and you were the fastest sperm?

Finally, thanks to a switched on support system we find a cab guy who is not only on the ball but he understands the gravity of the matter. Long story compressed certificate is delivered (at a premium of course) – at this point, I am so relieved and grateful I would have paid for it with an ex-boyfriend.

We have an hour left on the clock. The KQ check-in lady has been helpful she checked me in, but would only hand me a boarding pass upon seeing a Yellow Fever certificate with her two naked eyes. An airside meet and assist service we had pre-organized was probably the most brilliant idea of the century. We are given first priority thus – we reach our gate with approx 10 minutes left to board. Phew – talk of a scare.

We are finally on board KQ 792, woman can finally exhale and allow herself to relax. We were to have a brief ‘drop off and pick up” stop at Vic Falls Airport. Instead, we land in Comrade Bobs’ land and KQ develops technical issues… We disembark in Zimbabwe until FURTHER NOTICE……. for the second time in one day, feels like the devil was up soaking firewood in kerosene in my favour.

Not today Satan!

Capetown Chronicles to be continued!