Anton International: somewhere between chaos and completion

The number of times I’ve caught myself thinking, “this only happens in Zambia” has increased steadily over the year.

But this week genuinely took that feeling to an entirely new level.

It started, as many things here do, with a long and increasingly complex engagement with ZRA. There were explanations, counter-explanations, spreadsheets, recalculations, and a slow realisation that what sounded simple on paper rarely survives first contact with reality.

Eventually, after navigating all the available options around my vehicle’s Temporary Import Permit, I reached a conclusion that felt both rational and faintly ridiculous:
the best option wasn’t to renew the permit, nor to formally import the car, but to send it back to South Africa and sell it.

On paper? Straightforward.
In practice? Nothing is ever straightforward.

As luck would have it, this decision coincided with a scheduled work trip to Livingstone. Since I was already mentally committed to a 500km+ drive south, it seemed logical that the car could simply… continue its journey further south.

All I needed was someone or something to take it the rest of the way.

Enter Anton.

Anton is our long-time family gardener. He has never been on a plane. He hasn’t been to Zambia. And, importantly, he has never driven an automatic vehicle.

So naturally, he became the designated international car relocation specialist.

Phase One: Aviation

Step one was booking him onto an Airlink flight.

Yes - his first ever flight.

No gentle introduction. No short domestic hop. Just straight into the skies as part of an unplanned logistics mission.

Phase Two: Tourism (unplanned, but justified)

Once in Livingstone, it felt only right to add a brief stop at Victoria Falls. After all, if you’re being unexpectedly recruited into an international cross-border operation, you might as well see one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World along the way.

Phase Three: Mission South

And then, with barely any time to process the sequence of events that had just unfolded, Anton was on the road, foot down, heading south.

His brief: deliver a vehicle across borders, paperwork systems, and administrative processes that even seasoned drivers prefer not to think about too deeply.

Naturally, this is where things stopped being simple.

Meanwhile, at the conference…

While I was attempting to stay composed at a full-day conference in Livingstone, my phone began lighting up.

Calls from the border.
Voice notes.
Instructions.
Clarifications.
More instructions.

It turns out that properly clearing a car out of Zambia requires entry into a very specific ecosystem: clearing agents, multiple ZRA payments, mobile money transfers, scanned documents, confirmations, submissions and a level of administrative choreography that would test most project managers.

At one point, I found myself switching between conference networking and voice notes that simply said:

“Joey, don’t stressful yourself.”
“All ok Joey, just send, just need to swipe for the pula.”

So there I was: smiling politely through presentations, while simultaneously running a cross-border vehicle export operation via WhatsApp voice notes and mobile money.

Peak efficiency? Debatable.
Peak Zambia? Absolutely.

Six and a half hours later…

Anton was dashing toward Francistown.

By this stage, I stopped trying to understand the mechanics of what was happening and accepted a simpler truth: I was now fully emotionally invested in a man I had sent on a mission involving:

• his first flight,

• his first long-distance road trip in an automatic car, and

• his first encounter with international vehicle export bureaucracy.

And then, just when I thought I had reached maximum disbelief -

It happened.

A photo arrived.

My car.
Clean.
Parked neatly.
Sitting in my parents’ garage in South Africa.

Delivered.

I don’t know how to adequately explain the gap between the chaos of that day and the calm of that single image.

But there it was: proof that whatever had just happened… had actually worked.

Lessons learned (because there are always lessons learned)

• Toll booths still believe in cash
  No matter how digital the world becomes, toll gates remain deeply committed to physical currency.

• Border payments are a multi-platform experience
  Won’t accept cash. Some require a swipe. Some require mobile money. All require at least one moment of confusion.

• Always have Airtel Money ready
  Not “I’ll sort it when I get there.”
  Not “it should work.”
  Ready.

• Nothing is ever just one system
  A simple plan can and will become a multi-country, multi-currency, multi-platform coordination effort involving at least five active communication threads.

• If something feels straightforward… pause
  It isn’t.