My father is a complex man. He is a devoted, dedicated, and persistent man. Do not confuse his persistence with stubbornness for the two are very different. He is the kind of man who goes out of his way to do the right thing, not the easiest thing, no matter how difficult it may be.
But he ignored them. With my mother and two sisters in tow (who were 7 and 1 at the time), he packed their belongings and headed for Zimbabwe. Zimbabwe was a newly independent republic, not quite like Tanzania. It was drier, landlocked, and it didn’t quite have the alpine climate of the slopes of Kilimanjaro. But it was Africa, and Africa was home. He was offered a post-doctoral fellowship with an NGO known as . It was the beginning of a long journey towards providing food security to rural communities all over sub-Saharan Africa and East Asia.
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