Like many people who come from far and wide to the Nigerian house in London, my journey (this time) was the third time in one month just to get the E-passport for my daughter.  The procedures to obtain an E passport, Visa or other services they offer are inherently flawed.

Even though there is an online payment facility, it is not straightforward and doesn’t give you the list of documents needed. You just have to go with your instinct.

At first, when we paid online, we were told we needed £50 money order which we bought. On getting to the embassy, we were told it had been changed to £20 and amongst other things, we were meant to bring some documents which we didn’t know beforehand.

The person attending to us then said we could come back without making any appointment since we had already started the processing.

My husband and daughter took another day off work and school respectively.

In true Nigerian Embassy style, we arrived there on the following day only to be told that we had to make an appointment. Our pleas that we had travelled all the way from the West Midlands went on heard.

People come from all over UK – Glasgow, Sheffield, Belfast, and Birmingham only to spend all day or days at the embassy.

Knowing Nigerian house, no amount of mental preparation can actually prepare you for the day ahead, I’ve decided to just go with the flow and be ready to ‘beg’ any heady personnel.

As I live in West Midlands, I asked my mum, who lives in London, to get the ticket for me. I wasn’t too surprised when she told me that there was a long queue in the bitter winter cold.

Eventful, dramatic are synonymous to Nigerian house – after joining my mum on the queue with babies crying and adults lamenting left and right, I could only wonder what lay ahead for me.

It wasn’t too long before my baby started fidgeting – she was hungry!

That is my greatest fear, I have got a fussy eater as a baby and she would wait till she is really hungry before she eats anything – the dilemma is where and how do I feed her.

As I made my way to the front, I can see ‘the where does she think she is going to’ looks. Dreading the irrationality of the staff and determined not to raise my voice, I psyched myself up and approached the three men at the door, and explained my plight politely to them.

The response was, “sorry madam, we cannot let you in. If we do, everybody would start coming forward with the same excuse that they have to feed their baby”.

Trying so hard no to say a word, I just stood there calmly with a crying baby on my hands - I’ve devised several coping strategies but before I could use any of them, amongst the cacophony of tens of people talking all at the same time came the voice of 2 or 3 elderly women who were ready to give it whatever it takes to get me inside to feed my baby.

The men knew better and let me in with a resounding instruction – “Madam, make sure you come out as soon as you finish feeding your baby”.

As I sat inside the warm basement, feeding my baby, pleased with myself with my impressive calmness and grateful to the women who came to my aid, my mind shifts uncomfortably to my elderly mum still outside in the bitter cold.

I scanned the room and I was greeted with different faces, and you don’t have to be a psychologist to read the expressions across people’s faces.

As I was preparing to go back outside, another batch of people came in and luckily, my mum was one of them. A few hours later, we were called to make our payments, and of course, just as envisaged, my mum had to go out to make photocopies of some documents.

On getting upstairs to take the photograph, it wasn’t too shocking that these documents were binned because the guys said they don’t need them and don’t know why the workers downstairs keep asking for it.

It goes to show how the workers were not given proper training and have no clue of what they are doing.

The ingenuity of whoever suggested that the passport issuing office visit the main cities must be recognised and commended but that is where it ends.

The E-passport Mobile enrolment service visited Manchester amongst other cities in UK and it is the same old story with some twists to it.

“How do you make this booking online? It is driving me nuts. I’ve been at it since yesterday morning,” a stress-laden voice cried out to me over the phone.

That was my friend trying to book an e-passport appointment for her family because the mobile enrolment service was coming to Manchester.

She eventually got the trick by using different cards and finally paid for them all.

The whole family took a day of school and work, and tried to get there in ample time but of course this was of no consequence. Although the circumstances were different this time, the experience remains similar, and the reputation is confirmed time and time again.

The venue was a ramshackle building with poorly arranged chairs that were no where enough for the crowd that was to show up. The queue was a long and winding one and as the day progresses, things weren’t just happening and there was no information or rational explanation for the long wait.

Different theories were flying around – the machine was said to have packed up and they had to call the technical advisers in Nigeria who told them to call the manufacturers in US. Later the machine was said to have been taken to a nearby hotel and people were paying extra £50 to fast track it.

After a while, the queue started to trickle along and by night time they were still there.

My friend and her children finally took their photograph just before dawn the next day and got home around 7a.m after spending the night on the chairs at the Manchester office (mind you, they live in Manchester but so terrified were they of a similar experience that they dare not venture out and decided to stay and finish once and for all).

As for me, I eventually got home with my irritable six months old baby around 11pm, tired but with a persistent question on my mind – How do you solve a problem like Nigeria?