A Motswana in Mozambique: Land of hope and despair

The first time I ever visited Mozambique, was sometime in 2016, possibly around April/May in my late 20s. At the time, I had been living in Maseru, Lesotho for about two years.

I had taken the bus, starting the journey in Maseru, then Bloemfontein and eventually Johannesburg where I took the 10pm Intercape night service from the infamous Park Station and would arrive at Lebombo/Ressano Garcia Border at 5am the next morning. There we had to wait in the bus for about an hour till the gates opened at 6am, for immigration formalities. I had been warned about hagglers and corrupt immigration officials, but my passage was a smooth one.