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The Village Of My Ancestors

I was 19 when I took this picture of my mother, father and younger cousin enjoying a sunny day in Chaignay, Bourgogne — my ancestors' village, in eastern France.

One year later, I would take (and pass) my driver's license test in that Peugeot 201 you see in the background. I had nicknamed the car "Bubu," as in Bucephalus — the horse of Alexander the Great. And she would indeed set me off on my own, much more peaceful, conquest of cities, pastures and roadways around the world.

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Exclusive coverage from the world's top sources, in English for the first time.

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Migrant Lives

When Migrants Vanish: Families Quietly Endure Uncertainty

Zimbabweans cling to hope even after years of silence from loved ones who have disappeared across borders.

illustration of a woman in nature contemplating a framed picture of an older woman
Illustration by Matt Haney, GPJ

HARARE, ZIMBABWE — Blessing Tichagwa can barely remember her mother. Like hundreds of thousands of Zimbabweans, Noma Muyambo emigrated to South Africa in search of work, leaving baby Blessing, now 15, behind with her grandmother.

The last time they saw her was nine years ago, when Blessing was 6. Muyambo returned for one week, then left again — and has not sent any messages or money since.

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