Crossing from Mbeya, Tanzania to Mocimboa da Praia, Mozambique: A Lesson in Responsibility
This was one of the strangest border crossings I’ve ever experienced-anywhere in the world. And given that I’ve traveled to over 120 countries, it’s safe to say I’ve seen a few. We arrived at the border post from Tanzania to Mozambique in good time, armed with food, snacks, and supplies, fully aware that not all border crossings are smooth sailing. The Tanzanian border guard checked us out, wished us well, and directed us to a tiny ferry that would take us across the river to continue our journey.
We made our way down to the riverside and found a handful of boats propped up on the riverbed, looking more like they were ready for repairs than for a journey. We climbed into one with about 10 other people, and the boatman pushed us out into the water. But even just 10 meters from the bank, we were still scraping the riverbed. The boatman, sensing the shift in tides, warned us that we needed to be quick. But just minutes later, we found ourselves grounded in the middle of the river, unable to move.
What then followed was a tense exchange:
The boatman began arguing with us, insisting that we needed to keep moving. But the boat was stuck fast, and he refused to get out to push, warning of crocodiles lurking in the water. The conversation, conducted mostly in Swahili and translated by a fellow passenger with a baby, left me on edge. The fear of the situation escalating was real, but the fear of becoming a crocodile’s dinner was even more pressing.
In that moment, the other passengers-most of them younger and presumably lighter than me-began to disembark to push the boat free. I stayed put, reasoning to myself that the conversation wasn’t in English, and I could claim ignorance of what was being said. But even as I sat there, I couldn’t shake the feeling of shame. It was one of those hypothetical situations we all discuss over dinner and a glass of wine-“What would you do if you had to push a boat through crocodile-infested waters?” Around the dinner table, I would have confidently said I’d get out and help because I’m easily 100kg . But here I was, in the real world, watching others do the hard work while I sat safely inside the boat.
Even now, as I write this, I’m ashamed of my inaction, though I still wonder what I would do if it happened again. Should the boat captain have gotten out? What about those with more luggage than me? what if been attacked, would i have been able to get medial help? I mean we weren’t even in a country at this point? It was a situation that raised interesting questions about responsibility, and it’s something I continue to ponder.
Fortunately, no one was hurt, and after some effort, we managed to get the boat moving again, finding the deeper channel and continuing our journey. It was, without a doubt, the strangest crossing I’ve ever experienced.
On the other side, we were unofficially in Mozambique, but we still had to walk some distance before reaching the official border post. There, we checked into Mozambique without any issues, my multipurpose visa working perfectly without additional fees. From there, we continued our journey south, first to Palma and then to Mocimboa da Praia.
This crossing was more than just a logistical challenge; it was a lesson in responsibility and cultural differences, one that has stayed with me as I continue my travels. Every border crossing teaches you something new, but this one will always stand out for the questions it raised about who we are and how we act in the face of fear.
