Picture taken of Afghanis living and working in Ajman, United Arab Emirates.

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It's the beginning of 2018 and I'm starting the year off by stressing over my South African visa renewal application. It's the dark side of being an expat, this realization that the home you've staked is not technically your home and you must prostrate yourself before The Powers That Be every few years to beg them to let you stay. I'm tempted to think things always go wrong; in all my years of student/resident visa applications for the UK, the UAE and South Africa, I think I've run into problems in almost every instance. But in the midst of my worry, I reflect on the innumerable migrant workers I have encountered in my journey and am filled with utmost respect for the ones who Navigate the System (which sometimes entails Evading the System Altogether).

I remember once taking a bus to Sharjah in the UAE during a time when I was worrying about visas, and looking out the bus window I saw many people clutching documents to their chest as they waited for transportation. I imagined them to be en route from one visa errand to the next, subject to the same bureaucracy, with the odds stacked even more against them, managing to navigate it with a certain tenacious aplomb, while I with my many resources continued to fret and wring my hands. It is remarkable, really, that so many choose to leave their home countries and start afresh, because the paperwork alone makes this no easy thing (we won't even get into language and cultural barriers).

So here's to remembering the immigrants, the ones who choose to be slaves to the visa process or who slip through the cracks and must make themselves invisible to the state, who stubbornly refuse to call it quits and who return to work another day in countries not [yet] their own.