After writing my first post about registering at the municipality (commune) in Brussels it took me a total of eight months to finally receive my residence permit – or as it’s commonly known, the Belgian ID. While I am now certain this is an extreme case as most people I’ve met received their permits within a few months, my experience turned out to be quite tedious.
When you register at the Brussels commune, you are required to provide either a work contract or proof that you are a student. However, in my case, I had neither. Instead, I was on a Convention d’immersion professionnelle, a traineeship program specific to Brussels. This program is not an employment contract, meaning that the employer isn’t paying a standard salary. Instead, the trainee receives a monthly allowance that varies based on age – between 848.90 euros for those under 18 and 1,035.20 euros for those 21 and over.
Relived and stressed
This placed me in a grey area, somewhere between being a student and a worker. As a result, I had to wait approximately five months to figure out what was going to happen. By late October 2024, after a successful period as a trainee, my employer offered me a contract.
This was the final step I needed to make in order to complete my commune registration.
The moment I received my official contract I was both relieved and stressed. Now that I could register as an employee, I also could set up my freelancing activity and health insurance. These processes proved tough, especially due to the absence of my Belgian ID. Since, as a trainee, I wasn’t paying taxes, I wasn’t eligible for health insurance on my own. As a result, I had to rely on being a beneficiary under my partner’s plan.
My post about the Brussels commune registration was published on 15 July, 2024. I received my ID sometime at the end of January, 2025. During that time, I had to juggle commune appointments with my job and travels.
This is what happened in more detail.
Bad timing
After signing my contract, I officially became a Belgian employee, which allowed me to start emailing the commune for updates. I submitted my contract as requested to ensure I had all the paperwork in order. After several follow-up emails, I managed to get an appointment at the end of December. More specifically, it was on the second day of Christmas. Naturally, I had to reschedule. I had planned to travel abroad for Christmas for a few months, now.
The next available slot was on 6 January. I scheduled the appointment for 9 a.m. because I have to work during their opening hours. Fortunately, the person at the counter spoke Dutch, which was a relief (I’m currently at a B1 level in Dutch and still learning).
I stopped bothering to ask if people spoke English after learning that the answer was mostly “no.”
The whole process was about one hour which was mostly waiting to pay and receive a piece of paper. Two desks later, I was done and happy this was done.
I had my fingerprints taken; I had done everything. But that wasn’t the end. More than two weeks later, I received a letter from the Brussels municipality with a code. This is another standard part of the process, and since the letter is sent by post, you can’t proceed without it.
Nothing is quite “straight forward’
Once the letter arrived, I could go to the commune to pick up my ID. However, this part wasn’t straightforward either. I didn’t necessarily need an appointment, so I could go on certain days of the week when no appointment was required. For these days one has to be ready to wait a little while. There is always a queue of about 20 people, at least in my case as I went there twice. I chose a day when appointments weren’t necessary, as I didn’t want to rush and wanted to ensure I had plenty of time
at the commune. (Initially I wanted to schedule an appointment, but I struggled to navigate via the website.)
When I arrived, there was a person ushering people into the main room for identification documents receptions, but they only called visitor numbers in French. I was in trouble once more for the lack of language skills. The screen displaying the numbers went off shortly after I arrived, adding to the confusion. Eventually, I made it to the counter and finally received my ID.
For reference, I started the registration process at the beginning of May 2024. Once I had my ID, I could activate “itsme,” the Belgian equivalent of DigiD, which is essential for accessing health insurance, banking services, and much more.
However, to activate “itsme”, you need a card reader, and I had no idea where to get one. Fortunately, a friend had a spare reader, which was sent to my home. Additionally, I needed special software called BEIDToken to complete the setup.
Now after eight months, I finally can say, I am officially done with setting up all the bureaucracy in the Brussels commune.
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Read more about Brussels here in Dispatches’ archives.
Polya Pencheva
Polya Plamenova Pencheva is a young Bulgarian journalist based in Brussels, Belgium. Polya holds a Master's degree in journalism from Rijksuniversiteit Groningen and loves writing and telling the untold stories of interesting people. You can find her dining at cute café, shopping at markets, scouting second-hand shops or just chillin' at home with something great to read.
