Travel has a way of reshaping what we think we understand. In Botswana, what began as a straightforward look at farming quickly became something richer — a reminder that leadership reveals itself in everyday interactions. Here, leadership doesn’t announce itself with titles or stand on a stage. It lives in dusty roads, in coffee shared with strangers, and in work done quietly and well. What we saw, again and again, is that leadership grounded in humility and purpose can sustain a community in ways that last.
Our day began with Hill van Schalkwyk, founder of Hill’s Agrochemicals, and his longtime colleague and collaborator, Tersia Schmidt — leaders whose influence stretches far beyond inputs and fertilizers. Hill greeted us not in an office but at his roadside coffee cart, a simple idea that has grown into a gathering point for laughter, conversation, and connection. Over steaming mugs, he described a vision for a coffee farm and café — a place where agriculture meets hospitality, and where belonging is as important as business. At their table grape operation, we saw that vision carried into practice as Hill and Tersia worked alongside two women who are instrumental in expanding the venture. Their shared belief is straightforward: success should be lifted by many hands. Their philosophy — “simple but significant” — is leadership by relationship, leadership that nurtures both crops and people.
From there, we traveled to the Pandamatenga region, where agriculture stretches to the horizon. This is where we met Charl Viljoen, a large-scale dryland grain farmer who measures seasons not only by yield, but by resourcefulness. Without irrigation, his success relies entirely on weather patterns and patience — decisions must be made with precision, and there is no safety net when rain delays. Charl also operates a grain processing facility for neighboring producers, strengthening the region through shared infrastructure rather than competition. He spoke openly about the economics of agriculture — favorable credit lines paired with constant risk — but he returned, again and again, to one truth: people are the investment that matters most. Training, developing, and trusting his team is not a side priority; it is the heartbeat of his operation. His leadership is steady, humble, and deeply aware that progress is always a collective effort.
Our final stop took us to Eastland Farms, where brothers Robert and Daniel are carrying forward the pioneering work of their father, one of Pandamatenga’s original farmers. As the first second-generation growers in the region, they carry a dual responsibility: to honor their roots while shaping the future. Their innovative leap into irrigated crops — tomatoes, onions, and peppers — is expanding what is possible for farmers here and encouraging others to consider new methods. That same spirit of entrepreneurship runs in the family. Years ago, their mother Tracy saw opportunity where others did not and established Wild Tracks Eco Lodge, a hospitality venture that has become a vital employer and a celebrated destination in northern Botswana. Together with her daughter-in-law, Chennely, Tracy has created a place where visitors feel welcomed and cared for. Their leadership demonstrates that agriculture and tourism, when rooted in respect for people and place, can flourish side by side.
Throughout the day, one theme surfaced everywhere we went: respect. Respect for elders. Respect for the land. Respect for the people who show up each day to build something that may take years to fully realize. “In the end, we’re all working together,” one farmer told us. “Work alongside.” That phrase captures the leadership we witnessed — listening before directing, supporting before celebrating, and remaining close to the work itself. Innovation wasn’t always flashy. Often, it looked like brewing coffee before sunrise, trying a new crop others doubt will grow, or measuring what once was left to chance. Leadership here is expressed as care.
One farmer summed up the reality of the work with honesty: “It’s a trade-off, but it’s worth it.” Every leader knows that truth — balancing risk and reward, sacrifice and fulfillment. But in Botswana, those trade-offs felt grounded in purpose and shared responsibility. The people we met reminded us that leadership doesn’t need to be loud to be effective or grand to be meaningful. It can be quiet, consistent, and rooted in relationships that sustain.
We came here today to learn about agriculture’s face in a different part of the world. We left reminded that leadership in our industry, like the land itself, often grows best when it is straightforward, purposeful, and guided by respect. Leadership doesn’t have to be grand to be great. Sometimes, it is simple — and always significant.
With gratitude,
Carson, Linda & Marisa — Class 54
