I never dreamed of writing this book. It was not my idea to start with and left on my own, I never would have finished it, or ever seen it in print. I owe all that to others.

It began with my college pals, Eleanor and Peter Nalle. I had been writing long letters to Ellie, and thus, Pete, from the day I moved to Kenya and after several years of this back and forth, they encouraged me to put all these long tales into a book. I had no idea how to do that, so I wrote a few short stories, printed up three copies for Christmas presents, and that was that.

When I moved back to New York in 1992, I was urged to give it another try. That took me another two years and I only got half way done.

Then Jake took over. He decided to post one chapter every month on his web page, BwanaZulia.com. He had the expertise to do the Internet part, all I had to do was email each chapter to him, add a few pictures, and up they went. By the time the unwritten last chapters were finally due, I was working full time at a theatre in New York City and about to get married. That gave me the excuse of being too busy. But Jake kept pestering me. He also forwarded all the email he received from our readers. There were people 'out there' asking for, and sometimes demanding, the next chapters. I was shamed into finishing.

And so I want to thank Ellie and Pete for their original idea, and their encouragement and faith in the early days of this project. I also thank them for the many wonderful times we had as we traipsed all over Africa together. Our little traveling threesome has somewhat disbanded now, but we'll always have Swakopmund.

I want to thank my dear friend /surrogate father, Douglas Sackfield. Douglas lived through every one of my tragedies and triumphs, either through the letters I wrote home or, God help him, in person. During all my years in Kenya, and for many thereafter, he listened to my endless tales of Ah-frica. He held my hand when I needed it and pushed me forward. He always believed, when I did not, that I could do this. Dearest D.

Jake is such a part of this story that it seems odd to thank him, but my life has been immeasurably richer just for his being in it. Our times together in Africa were indeed the best of times. And none of this would have happened had he not decided to post "Jambo, Mama" on the Web. He talked me through many of my doubts along the way and he kept me going, one chapter at a time. He is, as he has always been, what I am the most proud of. XXXXXXX Y.A.M.

And Billy. The day I met him my life changed quite dramatically, and for the better. Billy altered the way I saw the world. And I never could, nor did I ever want to look back. Asante, Bwana Kidogo. Saaaaana.

A very deep bow to my friend and editor Sarah Fagan Greenberg, who, claiming it would be "a sheer delight," took on the rather daunting task of editing the manuscript for a second printing. With a deft and gentle hand, she not only reshaped Jambo, Mama, but managed to avoid the minefield of my overly sensitive feelings. Both took a master's touch. Thank you, Sarah; I am in your debt.

And I want to thank all the people out there in cyberspace who read each chapter as we posted it and then took the time to email me their encouraging words. It was an unexpected pleasure and a true gift to receive so much support from people, from all over the world, whom I had never met. They made me feel good and they carried me forward. They also kept asking me when it was going to be available in hard cover. Well, here it is.

And my love to my adorable and very patient husband Jean-Francois, just because he is who he is. He gives me the room, and very often the reason, to fly.

MSA
March 2001