When you get an ID but still can’t enter a club

I was shocked to be considered ‘underage’ as it was for 25+ revellers

In Summary

• Connections smooth the path to legal document but bump road awaits

A cocktail in a club
A cocktail in a club

If there's one thing I was completely thrilled about in adulting, it was probably acquiring my national ID.

I was like, I'm 18, finally an adult. Finally, nitaacha kukaziwa cause see my mum was always like, "Wì mwana dùkinyetie miaka, durì kitamburisho (You’re still a child, not of age and with no ID)".

Therefore, an ID was one way or another a ticket to freedom, or so I thought. It was also the thought like whew! I could finally go outside like to club, where they only allow adults inside. Hahaha!

What a discovery I made later on when going to clubs like 1824, where the age limit is 25+ and you’re not allowed to enter because of being ‘underage’. And at that point, you feel like asking the bouncer where you're supposed to get those seven extra years from in the middle of the night.

On that day, my mum took me to a nearby ID application centre. The first step was to get passport photos, so I went to a nearby cyber cafe for that.

Hii dunia ni kujua watu, yaani connections. While everyone else waited for their time in the long queue, my mother just told me to follow her all the way to the front as she already knew people.

With her assistance, I filled in all the documents and provided my birth certificate. The most interesting part in writing down my details was the part where I was required to provide the district, division, location and sub-location. These details appear at the back of the ID.

I was completely clueless, so I simply asked my mother to help me out with that. My fingerprints were also taken, and I remember clearly the women who were on that task telling me, "Ujue sa vidole ni za serikali, ukifanya hatia tutakupata tu."

And now that I think of it, has our national security reached that level? Where fingerprints are taken, scanned and identified through their databases. In my opinion, I hardly think so, cause all these are things I only see in movies. But anyway, you’re welcome to prove me wrong.

Call it the beauty of knowing someone who knows someone because pretty much within 15 minutes, I was done with the whole process. I was given a slip which I was required to come with later on in picking up my national ID.

Well, as you can imagine, two months later, I found my newly acquired national ID lying on my bed, and I didn't have to go through the hustle of physically picking it up.

As a side note, the photo on it looks absolutely terrible, that’s why I guard it with my life.

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