The 8-Hour Package Pickup Process

June 30, 2025

Today was a long and exhausting day — an ordeal that took nearly eight hours from start to finish.

It all began around 10 a.m., when we headed to the DHL office to pick up the required documents needed to retrieve our package being held in the RwandAir Cargo warehouse. The office was busy, and we waited about 40 minutes before finally receiving the paperwork.

From there, we drove to the airport. It was my first time visiting since arriving in Kigali, and I hadn’t realized how tight the security would be — more like entering a military base than a commercial terminal. After getting through security and parking, we headed to the access control office to apply for a security badge that would grant us entry into the cargo zone.

That’s when the trouble really began.

The online application form was poorly designed. Every time we clicked “submit,” the page just reset to a blank form. We couldn’t tell if the application had been sent successfully or not — it hadn’t. The office never received it. On top of that, we learned that only my wife would be allowed access because the package was in her name. I wasn’t permitted to accompany her.

Thankfully, someone at the access control office offered to help us manually process the application. Once that was completed, he showed us the window for the RwandAir Cargo access office — but they were out to lunch, with no indication of when they’d return. The man helping us exchanged numbers with us and promised to call once they came back.

By now, we were both getting hungry. Breakfast had been light — just a banana, a croissant, and coffee. For lunch, we managed to find a muffin and a bottle of water to tide us over while waiting at the airport. After an hour of silence, we gave up and went to a café for coffee. Still nothing.

My wife eventually called the man, only to learn he had gone on his own lunch break. She went alone to meet him and talk with the official who could grant her access to the package. I waited at the café a while longer, then moved to the car, thinking it wouldn’t take much longer. I was wrong.

The invoice and inventory list, which customs required for processing, was attached to the package itself. That meant my wife had to go through security again to access the package, retrieve the paperwork, and then head to the customs and tax office. There, she had to sort out the import fees, return through security again to the cargo area, wait for assistance with the package, fill out even more documents to authorize bringing the car closer to the warehouse, load the package into the car, and return the security badge.

At last, with the package secured, we paid for airport parking — only to have the exit gate refuse to open. In the time it took to get from the payment machine to the gate, the parking time had ticked over, and we had to pay an additional fee just to leave.

We were completely drained, but still had one final stop at my wife’s office to take care of a quick work matter before heading home.

Neither of us had the energy to cook, so we ordered from Vuba Vuba — Rwanda’s version of Uber Eats. We chose our go-to comfort food: fried chicken and fried rice from Kimchi Bapsang. While waiting for the delivery, we cracked open a couple of Virunga Mist beers, sat back, and finally began to unwind.

What a day it had been.