There is a particular pain in loving your country while feeling defeated by the systems and people you must work with to contribute to it.
As a Zambian living abroad, I want to invest back home, build, create opportunities and pay fellow Zambians to manage projects responsibly. I want my connection to Zambia to be more than memories, family obligations and occasional visits.
Yet too often, even straightforward tasks become exhausting: opening a bank account, renewing a passport, finding someone trustworthy to supervise construction or getting an update from an office. These should not be extraordinary achievements. From a distance, however, they can feel almost impossible.
Building a Home Should Not Mean Buying Empty Promises
I have engaged three different people to help with a building project in Zambia. In each case, the trust I placed in them was not honoured.
I was told that work had been done, materials had been purchased or progress had been made. Too often, what I could verify did not match those assurances.
The damage goes beyond money. It costs time, peace of mind and confidence in the next person you might employ. Eventually, you begin to question every update and every request for funds.
That is a terrible position to be in when your original intention was to create opportunities for someone back home.
Diaspora money is not free money. It comes from work, careful budgeting, sacrifices and savings. Living abroad does not mean we can afford to keep losing it.
When Basic Services Become Obstacles
Opening a bank account in Zambia as a Zambian living abroad has, in my experience, been a major challenge.
I understand that banks must verify identities and comply with financial regulations. I am not asking anyone to abandon safeguards. I am asking for clear requirements, accessible processes and consistent communication.
When procedures are difficult to understand or seem to change from one interaction to another, people can feel as though they are being kept out rather than helped. A citizen seeking a service should not feel treated as a suspect or a nuisance.
Another difficulty many citizens abroad describe is feeling that access depends on who you know. In my experience, getting help can mean finding the right contact or someone who knows that contact. When people are sent from office to office without clear guidance, routine services can become frustrating and discouraging.
I have encountered this concern in interactions with Zambian missions abroad as well, though I recognise that experiences vary and many people work hard to assist.
When information is difficult to access or seems to depend on personal connections, people can feel that they must prove their importance before receiving help.
Public services should be guided by clear procedures and shared information, so citizens are not left relying on informal networks or wondering whether an unofficial payment is expected.
When rules are clear and applied consistently, connections matter less and trust can grow.
My passport renewal experience has been even more disheartening.
I began the process in 2017 through a Zambian mission during what were called passport clinics in Chicago, Illinois. To date, I have received no meaningful update resolving my application.
The last explanation I received was that a committee meets once or twice a year to reverify information that had already been verified. I cannot independently confirm whether that accurately describes the procedure. But it was the explanation given to me, and it left me wondering why a renewal should become such a prolonged ordeal.
A passport is not a favour. It is an essential document of citizenship. No one should have to spend years wondering whether an application has disappeared into an administrative void.
Must Every Interaction Have a Price?
Another exhausting experience is the expectation that almost every request must involve money.
I believe in paying people fairly for their time, expertise and professional services. But there is a difference between charging for real work and expecting payment for even the smallest act of assistance, such as sharing a contact number.
There is also a fundamental difference between a legitimate service fee and an unofficial payment expected before someone performs a duty they are already employed to perform.
During a visit to an NRC collection point in Lusaka, I came away with the troubling impression that getting assistance might depend on paying something extra. No citizen should have to wonder whether an ordinary public service is being withheld because they have not offered an unofficial payment.
President Hakainde Hichilema has also expressed concern about people who want to “earn without working.” His words resonated with me. I believe the same values honest effort and accountability must guide those entrusted with serving the public. Good customer service should be part of that responsibility.
I Am Frustrated, but I Still Want a Way Forward
It would be unfair to say that every Zambian behaves this way. There are honest builders, diligent public servants and capable professionals doing good work. We need to identify, support and make those people easier to find.
But recognising good people must not become an excuse to ignore repeated failures.
For those managing projects from abroad, trust needs practical safeguards: written contracts, independently checked references, staged payments tied to verified work, receipts and inspections by someone other than the person receiving the money. These measures cannot eliminate dishonesty, but they can reduce our exposure to it.
We also need stronger diaspora networks that share verified professional referrals and practical experience, with ways to raise concerns when work goes wrong. A formally recognised diaspora desk in Zambia could give citizens abroad a clear point of contact for reliable information, help navigating government processes and routes for raising unresolved concerns. Zambians abroad contribute to the country, including through remittances, and should be able to access straightforward, consistent guidance when they seek to invest or handle essential matters at home.
For unresolved applications, we should keep records, request written status updates and escalate complaints through documented official channels. Suspected demands for bribes should also be documented and reported to appropriate authorities, including the Anti-Corruption Commission where relevant.
But citizens cannot solve institutional problems through personal vigilance alone.
Banks and government agencies need clear procedures for citizens abroad, application tracking, published timelines and complaint mechanisms that produce answers. If an application is incomplete, tell us what is missing. If it is delayed, explain why. If someone fails to perform their duties, there must be accountability.
Are there clear, consistent account-opening requirements for Zambians living abroad and, if so, where are they published? More broadly, what can Zambia do to make it easier for its citizens abroad to invest and participate responsibly?
Zambia Is Still Our Home
At times, I have felt so defeated that I have told myself there is no hope. Yet I am speaking out because some part of me still believes things can change.
I am not asking for special treatment because I live abroad. I am asking for fair treatment as a Zambian.
I want to pay for work and see it done. I want to submit an application and receive an answer. I want to invest without feeling that distance makes me an easy target.
I stand behind these concerns, and I am asking for practical guidance: How do we organise ourselves, protect one another and demand better without abandoning our commitment to home?
We can do better as a people. But doing better must become something we practise in our offices, on our building sites and in our everyday dealings not simply something we say.
Noah Ndhlovu is a former president of the Zambian Association of Indiana. He has lived in the United States for more than a decade and has served in other leadership roles within the Zambian diaspora.