My Real-time Risk Assessment Smuggling Restricted Goods in From Uganda!
I need to tell you about the time I smuggled restricted goods in from Uganda. You see, smuggling requires a risk assessment. Not only that, but the perceived risks can change throughout the journey!
In 2018 I went to Uganda to deliver a 10-day NEBOSH course. Over 10 days you get to know the students, and they get to know you!
On the last day of the course and I was about to leave when a student brought me a present. He struggled in with this huge bag, full to the brim with 4.5 kilos of my favourite fruit, passionfruit. I posted a photo on Facebook: “Oh, look at this, 4.5 kilos of passionfruit. I’m so excited to bring it back!”
One of my killjoy colleagues immediately commented on the post saying, “You can’t bring back four and a half kilos of passion fruit, it’s a restricted item! You can only bring back two.”
Miserable woman – I’m sure she got a buzz out of it. Anyway, I looked it up and sure enough, she was correct.
The Risk Assessment Begins!
I know the hazard (the item that has the potential to cause me harm) is the 4.5kg of passion passion fruit. The risk is the likelihood that I will get caught and the consequences if I do.
So the first question was: what happens if I’m caught? Well, if you’re caught bringing more than two kilos into the UK they confiscate the lot.
So my first option is to take the risk, pack the lot and hope I’m not questioned.
My second option is to pack two kilos, then eat or dispose of the rest. This option seems less appealing – you wouldn’t want to sit by me on the plane after eating 2.5 kilos of passion fruit, I can assure you!
As the worst outcome is they confiscate the lot, I decide I’m going to take the risk. In a split second, I’ve transformed from NEBOSH course instructor into amateur smuggler!
Preparation!
Among other things, a risk assessment must consider how to mitigate the risk using reasonably practicable methods (which will be discussed in a future SafetyNow bullet). So some effort is required in preparation.
I divide the fruit into two 2-kilo bags, and put half a kilo aside to eat or give away. I carefully wrap each bag in black plastic. I hope that way it won’t show up on the scanner (which is nonsense), but also if they burst they make a massive mess of your suitcase.
So one bag goes in my suitcase. I spread some clothes on top before piling on the rest of my stuff.
With my ticket, I also have the option to take a second piece of luggage. I “borrow” an A4 photocopying box from the training room. I put half my dirty washing in the bottom, another two kilos of passionfruit in the middle, and the rest of my clothes on top. Pleased with my work, I jump in a taxi.
The airport at Entebbe is mayhem. There are people with bags of avocados on their heads, kids running around and chickens making a dash for it. So I don’t look out of place with my ‘goods’. Security is fine, I put through my luggage and get on the plane.
So far, so good. (Perhaps I am good at this smuggling business?)
Now, the flight back to the UK isn’t direct. You don’t fly directly to Heathrow, you fly to Addis Ababa in Ethiopia for a connection.
We touch down in Addis Ababa at midnight in torrential African rain. I hurry aboard the plane to Heathrow with my coat over my head. I’ve booked a window seat so I can put my head against the bulkhead and go to sleep.
While I’m waiting I look out the window at the luggage being loaded onto the plane below. Directly beneath me, sitting in the pouring rain, is my now-soggy cardboard box…
Reassessing the Risk Assessment!
So now the risk assessment changes. What’s the likelihood I’m going to get caught? It seems quite probable now. In fact, the cameras that look for suspicious-looking people will definitely find me.
What are the consequences? Maybe will not only confiscate my passionfruit but also give me a fine…
As the hours tick by, my brain whirrs and I don’t sleep. Maybe when I get caught they will put me in prison? Prison sounds okay actually. They feed you, plus you have your own room. But even so, you’ve lost your freedom, and I don’t want that.
As the plane wheels touch down at Heathrow I feel a sense of dread. I’ll have to get off the plane soon and confess. Maybe they will impale my head outside the Tower of London, like in Tudor times, alongside my illegal passionfruit all to rot together as a lesson to everybody!!
At the luggage belt, a soggy cardboard box emerges alongside expensive golf bags. I glance left and right. I think, “You know what, it’s only got dirty washing and passion fruit in it. Is it worth it? I’ll just leave it…”
Then: “Actually they can trace it, can’t they? Because it’s got all the labels with my incriminating details on…”
As the box comes round again I sneak the box onto the luggage trolley and bundle it under my coat.
So here I am. No going back now. My heart beats in my chest. Should I go over to the “something to declare” desk and accept my punishment?
I start to walk, then make an exaggerated look at my watch for the cameras. Then I hurry head-down through “nothing to declare”. Nobody stops me or calls me back.
—
The next day I’m talking to my neighbour who owns a wholesale grocery place. When I tell her the story, she says “Moira, you are stupid. We get them in by the box load and sell 2-kilo boxes for £9…”
I made poor decisions because was in a hurry. I didn’t take the time to properly evaluate the consequences to my mental health. I was overexcited by the gift and I really wanted to get home after being away for nearly 3 weeks.
All of these factors skewed my perception and I took a risk without properly thinking it through.
How many of us do this? In my case I was “lucky”, but this is not the case for everyone.
Next time we’ll explore the true knock-on effects of an accident.
Moira
P.S. Ensure your employees make informed decisions by providing them with the necessary knowledge. SafetyNow offers comprehensive training programs, including Nebosh and IOSH certifications. Head over to www.safety-now.co.uk. There’s never a dull second – and that’s a promise!
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