Lessons From the Queue, Part II: The Girl With Big Dreams and the Weight of a Broken System.
There is something deeply humbling about standing in a queue.
It equalises us.
It slows us down.
It makes room for unexpected human moments.
While waiting for my new ID, just after embracing the simplicity and rhythm of the Zimbabwean system, I met a young woman who reminded me why my work goes far beyond visas and paperwork.
A Chance Encounter With a 20-Year-Old Dreamer
She must have been around twenty bright-eyed, soft-spoken, with the kind of intelligence that sits quietly yet confidently. One small conversation turned into an entire life-story shared between two strangers who, for different reasons, were both waiting in the same line.
She told me about her journey:
Finished O-Levels.
Dreamed of coming to the UK as a carer.
Studied English.
Sat for the IELTS.
Completed the Red Cross training.
Finished her placement.
Worked hard and saved everything she could.
Set her heart on a certificate of sponsorship.
She invested her time, money, and emotional energy into this path.
And then like so many others she hit the wall.
No Certificate of Sponsorship.
No job offer.
No way forward.
The system she hoped would be her lifeline became her roadblock.
The Ripple Effects of the CoS Crisis
I found myself smiling softly at the irony.
Every day in the UK, I am knee-deep in sponsor licences, revocations, delays, and compliance problems.
Every day, I advocate, advise, appeal, and support.
And here I was, thousands of miles away, simply trying to change my Zimbabwean ID yet the same issues followed me.
It was a reminder that migration is not an abstract policy issue.
It is a human issue.
For every revoked licence, for every delayed CoS, for every system failure, there is a real person behind it a young woman whose dreams depend on processes she cannot control.
Turning a Queue Into a Mentoring Moment
We talked about:
her options in Zimbabwe
her opportunities abroad
the reality of the UK care sector
the risks and the exploitation
the beauty and hardship of the diaspora journey
how to reframe disappointment into direction
how to flourish with what she has
how to plan wisely and not react from pressure
She was intelligent, teachable, driven the kind of young person Zimbabwe should be nurturing and empowering.
And as we talked, something shifted.
Her shoulders relaxed.
Her face softened.
Hope returned.
By the time we reached the front of the queue, our conversation had turned into an impromptu mentoring session. We exchanged numbers. I promised to stay in touch and support her wherever possible.
The Beauty of Human Connection in Unexpected Places
What touched me most was not just her story but the simple fact that a queue a mundane, everyday inconvenience became the birthplace of connection.
I was reminded:
That leadership is not confined to boardrooms,
That mentoring does not require a scheduled appointment,
That purpose follows us everywhere,
That we carry our assignment into every space we enter.
Even into an ID queue in Zimbabwe.
And once again, I saw the heart of my calling:
To uplift, to guide, to empower, to connect.
Whether in a legal office, a prayer group, a conference hall, or yes… even in a government building queue.
Final Reflection: Purpose Has No Borders
Meeting her taught me something profound:
No matter where we are in the world, we are always placed among people who need what we carry.
The visa systems may fail.
The paperwork may delay.
The processes may frustrate us.
But human connection authentic, compassionate, purpose-filled connection still works.
And sometimes, standing in a queue becomes the moment someone’s story starts to change.
I look forward to staying in touch with her and helping her carve a future that honours her gifts, whether that future unfolds in Zimbabwe or beyond.
Because our assignment is never just about documents.
It is always about people.
