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Loyalty and trust will always be two of the most important factors I look for in business and in life. Nine times out of ten, I will choose to hire or do business with someone I trust completely over someone I trust mostly. We all make the occasional hiring blunder, but I should probably raise the bar of that statement to ten times out of ten. SEO services can really help out your business, if you choose an SEO expert or an SEO specialist!

The importance of trust and loyalty was strengthened when I experienced those fourteen people walking out on my company. It was solidified by another far more extreme incident.

The terrain in one particular region included a lot of bumpy dirt roads and rocky terrain, so we rode four-wheelers to get in and out of the planting areas.

A chairman for one of the nonprofits and my new best friend on the trip, Roger, and I were riding our four-wheelers back one night when fate took a funny yet scary and dangerous twist. Before I go any further with this story, understand that Roger was about fifty years old with a total dad bod. He was a great guy, but not someone you would team up with for a street fight in a third-world country, unless he had a machine gun, which unfortunately he did not.

It was hot as hell on this fateful evening. The dust was kicking up everywhere and sticking to us like flies caught in a spiderweb. We were cruising along side by side at about thirty miles per hour on a dirt road, desperately wanting nothing more than to get back to our rooms to unwind. We were super tired from a long day of hard work, when all of a sudden—smash!

Roger’s four-wheeler got completely T-boned by some woman driving a car from out of nowhere. The four-wheeler went flying in one direction and Roger went hurtling through the thick sun-drenched air in another. My first reaction was “Holy fucking shit, Roger’s dead!”

We were in the middle of East Bumfuck, Madagascar, about two to three miles from the closest village. I stopped my four-wheeler to check on Roger, half expecting to see his arms and legs bent and twisted in all different and unnatural directions. To make matters worse, the woman who hit him was at this point out of her car, screaming something at me in Malagasy and charging at me aggressively.

As if things weren’t bad enough, all the yelling and screaming this crazy woman was doing somehow caught the attention of a bunch of other Malagasy natives who just happened to be walking down the middle of the road to nowhere. Before I realized what was going on, the crowd had turned into an angry mob and had formed a circle around us, making sure we couldn’t escape.

The good news was that Roger wasn’t dead. He was, however, severely banged up, with scratches and bruises all over him. Before long, another guy showed up in an old beat-up Nissan Maxima with a couple of rims missing and a broken taillight. He was dressed in sweatpants and a maroon beret. Turns out this guy was some sort of police officer.