Behind border chaos lies carefully constructed graft

The battered minibus taxi accelerated in reverse in the direction of Beit Bridge to get away from the roadblock near Esigodini on the road to Bulawayo, Zimbabwe.

It had little chance. Not only was the wide-eyed driver up against the BMW of the police, who had done a U-turn to go after him, but he had a full load of passengers and only slow speed in reverse gear.

This incident I observed serves as an apt metaphor for Zimbabwe's plight. Travelling through the Beit Bridge border post is as intimidating as its reputation suggests, especially for first-timers uncertain of the procedures.

The South African side was a nine-minute smooth affair, at least for a local passport holder. The Zimbabwean side, however, was chaotic and bureaucratic with no fewer than 10 different, stupefying steps for those travellers in cars.

First, queue to buy the blue vehicle exit pass (one learns that this is not the long line stretching out the main door, but of course only when one has waited in it). Second, get the passports stamped, this time in the aforesaid long queue. Third, obtain the temporary vehicle import permit with the car's original registration document in hand (and a clearance letter if the bank still owns a chunk of it). Fourth, queue again to pay the vehicle's carbon tax, the rate being dependent on the engine capacity.

Fifth, if you have not obtained the Southern African Development Community third-party insurance before arriving in Zimbabwe, do so now. Sixth, obtain a police clearance certificate at the back of a small building across the road. At least there was a friendly face, unlike the immigration officials behind the other counters who do sometimes smile, but never while they are at work.

Seventh, proceed to the customs queue for inspection. Here there are two lines, red and green, with apparently little distinction between the two processes they represent. It seemed they both depended on the energy level and ability of the single customs official armed with a large stamp bouncing from car to truck, bakkie to bus. One pleads for his attention in the company of many Zimbabweans trying similar, though more successful, techniques.

If and when you succeed in doing this, he will try to calculate the value of the goods in your possession, whereupon you go back into the border post building to pay the duty fee. Three queues were involved in finding the right one, again due to the absence of signposting.

Ninth, the customs official, by this stage knee- and elbow-deep in going through the possessions of three bus loads of passengers, is cornered long enough to stamp the customs payment assessment on the vehicle pass.

Then, finally, you are on your way and there are just two border checks - where the blue pass is shown and taken - to pass through before heading down the road to Bulawayo.

The customs payment is the moment, roughly three hours into the process, where the folly of the system is most apparent. People pay duties on manufactured goods bought much cheaper in South Africa because of the absence, or inefficiencies, of Zimbabwe's own industry.

The purpose of this is not strategic, even though some politicians might want it to be such. That is, to safeguard domestic jobs as part of a protectionist import substitution arrangement on which Rhodesia and then Zimbabwe relied for five decades to build and maintain its industry. That industry has largely gone. And it is not as if the tariff payment is the mainstay of government revenue. Tariffs account for a projected $380-million of the $3.5-billion Zimbabwe budget.

Rather, it is the centrepiece of a giant tariff evasion game. Zimbabwe imported goods worth an estimated $8.3-billion last year while exporting just $4.7-billion.

The balance of payments difference was made up through things that do not appear on any balance sheet: smuggled goods such as diamonds and as much as $2-billion's cigarettes for the South African market, as well as diaspora remittances and some aid.

The bill for imports of new and second-hand cars into Zimbabwe amounted in 2011 to $1-billion, which should bring in $500-million to $600-million in taxes. Add to that the 640000 cars, 370000 trucks, 26000 buses and 7.4million travellers transiting yearly through Beit Bridge and projected customs income seems low, the product of tax evasion and exclusions rather than application.

The reason why the government does not have an efficient border-crossing system is the same reason why there are 12 police roadblocks between Beit Bridge and Bulawayo, or the 17 counted along the 370km between Bulawayo and Harare, or the 13 along the 355km Harare-Chirundu route. The greater the number of steps, checks and lack of clarity over procedures, the greater the scope for bureaucratic "manoeuvre".

It would not take a rocket scientist to devise a simple, one-stop border control system for Zimbabwean, South African and other cars and trucks, or for local and foreign foot passengers. But doing so would remove the need for the officials' touts and their backhanders.

Things happen for a reason, usually, but they also do not happen for a reason.