A realization that hit me whilst traveling:
Your passport is power.
Can you imagine? A little booklet.
It states obvious things like your nationality, place and date of birth, your height - and near enough always includes an ugly picture - that’s at least the case for me.
A little document that enables you to move freely through the world. Or quite the opposite: restricts and limits you to the country you were born in.
Even though I’m 28, I’m only just now realizing that the world isn’t the magical place I imagined it to be.
“Little” things like this never even occurred to me - growing up in one of the most fortunate places on earth. And if that wasn’t enough, I’ve grown up in a safe and loving environment, blessing me in every possible way, and probably also instilling me with a good dose of naivety about the reality we call life.
The obstacles people face, and the hoops they have to jump through just to be allowed to visit another country, are enormous - especially if your country of birth has a “bad” reputation. If your country doesn’t have strong diplomatic ties, has an unstable economy, or is caught in political turmoil, it’s much harder to get approved to travel.
I used to think seeing the world was all about saving up and booking your ticket - because yes, travel isn’t cheap. But finances might not even be the biggest barrier.
Depending on where you're from, you might need a visa - and that’s where things get even more complicated.
What is a visa, really?
I thought it’d be wise to dive into this subject a bit deeper, as I’m not very knowledgeable about it myself.
A visa is official permission to enter a country. It can be granted for tourism, business, work, study, or even transit - depending on your reason for travel. But applying for one isn’t always a straightforward process.
If you’re from a country with a “weak” passport - meaning one that doesn’t offer visa-free or visa-on-arrival access to many places - you might need to:
- Prove your financial stability
- Show return flights and hotel bookings
- Get a letter of invitation or sponsorship
- Provide evidence of strong ties to your home country (like family, a job, or property)
- Wait weeks or even months for a decision
And even after submitting all that, your visa can still be denied.
Often without a clear explanation. No right to appeal. Just a flat “no.”
From experience
I met a Nepalese man who was trying to get a visa to visit Puerto Rico, so that he could set up a seasonal business with an American friend. He’d prepared all the paperwork, showed he had a thriving business back home, and made it clear that he only wanted to visit from time to time - not overstay or settle there without permission.
Still, his visa was denied.
They didn’t give a clear reason, but apparently, Nepalese people have a reputation for overstaying - and this collective reputation worked against him. I can’t imagine how frustrating that must be. Especially when you’ve done everything by the book, proven your intentions, and still find yourself judged by something as broad as a pattern or perception about your nationality.
Is that fair? I get that countries want to protect themselves from illegal migration or misuse of their systems. And I suppose it’s easier to deny a group en masse than assess the risk person by person. But they do assess individuals, don’t they? So then the question becomes: what makes a visa request “safe” or “acceptable”? And who decides?
The other side of the coin
But at the same time - can you blame the country for trying to protect its borders? I’m not sure.
I do think this is important to acknowledge - countries aren’t necessarily being cold-hearted or unfair for the sake of it. They’re often trying to protect their own people. And that makes sense, too.
Take Indonesia, for example. A friend of mine lives and works there - she’s absolutely thriving and has set up her own business. But she also told me that Indonesia clearly encourages her to hire as many local people as possible. It’s their way of making sure foreign entrepreneurs don’t come in, take all the jobs, and leave Indonesian citizens without work, money, or food. It’s a way of preserving opportunity for their own community.
And honestly? That feels fair. It’s easy for us - with our Western privilege - to see the world as one big open playground. But for countries with fragile economies, high unemployment, or a large low-income population, letting in anyone and everyone can have serious consequences for the people already living there. So even though it might feel unfair for the individual being denied entry, there’s usually a much bigger picture behind it.
The same story, in reverse
And of course, this works both ways.
While countries like Indonesia aim to protect their own economy from wealthier outsiders, the reverse is just as true - and maybe even more extreme. Western countries regularly turn away people from less economically developed nations, even when their intentions are entirely legitimate.
Why? It’s not always about prejudice - at least, not in the obvious sense. It's often about patterns, risks, and resources. Countries look at trends: have people from a certain region overstayed their visas in the past? Are they likely to seek asylum once they arrive? Is there political instability at home that might tempt someone to stay longer than allowed?
There’s also the practical side. If a country is already struggling to support its own population - with healthcare, housing, or jobs - bringing in more people (even temporarily) can add pressure. It's a form of protection, in a way. Not always fair to the person applying, but driven by a bigger picture that governments are constantly trying to manage.
Still, that doesn’t make it any easier for the people being judged - not as individuals, but as statistics. Imagine being told "no" not because of who you are, but because of where your passport was printed. That’s hard. And that’s the reality for millions of people around the world.
Final thoughts
It’s such a sensitive subject - especially for people who genuinely follow the rules. And of course, it’s easy for me to wonder aloud about fairness: I’m a white woman, with a Dutch passport, and the world (almost entirely) opens up for me. I’m not even sure which countries the Netherlands has restrictions with - that’s how easy travel has always felt.
I am not sure why it took me this long to realize all of this, but your passport isn't just a travel document. It’s a symbol of freedom or limitation. It reflects your country’s standing in the world - and in many ways, defines your own access to it.
I carry a passport that opens doors. But millions of people carry ones that close them.
Photo by Blake Guidry on Unsplash
