Time is not simply a succession of seconds; it is the unfolding of a divine plan. One hundred years. A century of life granted by the Master of Destinies to a man who, more than anyone else, taught the Senegalese and Africans to reject misery and dare to dream big. Celebrating the centenary of President Abdoulaye Wade today is not merely revisiting the history of a politician; it is contemplating the legacy of a giant, a builder of futures, and an awakener of consciences.

My encounter with President Wade belongs to those mysteries where politics fades before the purity of humanity and spiritual transmission. I hadn't yet entered politics. I was the young Director General of the IAM and, above all, the son of one of his greatest political adversaries, the late Mamba Guirassy, then a high-ranking member of the Socialist Party. Another man would have seen me as belonging to the opposing camp. Abdoulaye Wade, however, saw Africa. That day, at the Presidential Palace, he donned the IAM gown to honor us, providing motorcyclists and Red Guards to enhance our graduation ceremony. Without ego, without formality, he transformed this moment into yet another opportunity to share his continental vision with the youth. That was Wade's genius: knowing how to listen, being genuinely close, and finding light where others seek division.

This ability to capture the spark beyond prejudice was revealed once again during the darkest hours of my commitment to Kédougou. Portrayed to him as a separatist because I was fighting to make my land a strong mining region, even theorizing Kédougou as the future capital of Senegal, I felt the full force of the state's wrath. The name of my movement, MFDK (Movement for the Future of Kédougou), which unfortunately bore a striking resemblance to the MFDC, was banned by the local gendarmerie. I was a follower of Alvin Toffler, who spoke extensively about the third wave. And I saw it coming for Kédougou. Accused of being the instigator of the popular uprising that followed the tragic shooting death of young Sinon Sidibé, I was the man to be eliminated. Yet, during a presidential tour in Kédougou, after hearing me frankly, courageously, and openly defend my vision for our youth, President Wade surprised everyone. He invited me into his convertible and whispered, "You will be in my next government." A few weeks later, he entrusted me with the role of spokesperson. In a fraction of a second, his intuitive intelligence had shattered all the suspicions of those behind the scenes, leaving only the sincerity of the struggle.

Wade detested pessimism. I remember his furious reaction in the Council of Ministers when I, in typical Senegalese fashion, told him that the budget for the transition from analog to digital broadcasting would be "very expensive." He abruptly halted the meeting for several long seconds before declaring, "Stop this pessimism! Nothing is expensive. It all depends on the scope and dignity of your vision." That day, he taught me that the economic barriers imposed by the Bretton Woods institutions were nothing but illusions. He was the one who challenged those same institutions to promote the idea that education is not an expense, but a major investment in human capital. From the "Cases des Tout-Petits" (Early Childhood Centers), which became a global model for UNESCO, to the regionalization of universities, from student scholarships to the rise of private education, he believed in African intelligence.

His resilience was both physical and intellectual. When I confided in him one day, with the naive pride of a young minister, that my responsibilities prevented me from finding time to read, he corrected me, telling me that he had never gone a single day in his life without opening a book. Even on June 23, 2012, when Dakar was ablaze and I came to see him, distraught and deeply worried, at the Palace, he told me with disconcerting serenity that this fight belonged to my generation and that he, on the other hand, needed to take a nap. Nothing could shake his inner peace.

When I resigned from the government, worn down by internal adversities, it was this same Wade, humble and deeply paternal, who received me to renew his confidence in me.

This ordeal, far from driving us apart, brought us closer. He bestowed upon me the immense honor, at the very last Council of Ministers meeting of his tenure, of appointing me as his final historical spokesperson. He granted me the honor of speaking on his behalf to the national and international press to report on this last Council of Ministers meeting.

Wade restored our local languages to their republican dignity, daring to address the people in their own language because he knew that the soul of a nation resides in its words. He was a man of values and balance. In the midst of an election campaign, when he was certain of victory, he took the time to visit the mother of President Abdou Diouf, a gesture of pure humanity to preserve national cohesion. He was sometimes wrongly portrayed as a radical, when in fact there was no one gentler or more approachable than him. An iconoclast in the face of foreign powers, he knew how to stand firm against all odds to defend Africa, coming close to realizing the dream of a first continental government.

I never heard him say he was tired. He forbade me from justifying my absence by saying I didn't want to bother him. "Who told you I was tired?" he would snap at me. He had time for everyone, respecting state protocol without ever rejecting those who didn't understand the rules. The historical prominence of women and young people in his governments remains a living testament to his ideology: Wadism, a doctrine of action, boldness, and large-scale infrastructure. Wade represents the beginning of major projects: highways, the Blaise Diagne International Airport (AIBD), toll roads, the VDN (Voie de Dégagement Nord), the African Renaissance Monument, major cultural events like FESMAN (Festival International du Monde Arabe), NEPAD (National Partnership for Development)... and much more.

On the day we parted, on the threshold of the Palace, he confided in me his final dream: to found his own school. A different kind of school, based on the traditional master-disciple relationship, to transmit the profound meaning of his struggles. It is this same quest for transmission and this complete absence of generational complexes that explain, despite the age difference, his admiration, his advice, and his long-standing support for Ousmane Sonko, and later for the election of the Head of State, Bassirou Diomaye Faye. Like Cheikh Anta Diop, Abdoulaye Wade embodied and embraced our African identity, even in its spiritual dimension.

Today, I make a passionate appeal: I call upon the activists of the PDS to liberate Abdoulaye Wade from the confines of mere partisan politics. Let us return him to Senegal, let us return him to Africa, let us return him to all of humanity, for that is where his true home lies. I invite every Senegalese to rediscover Wade, to rediscover him far removed from fleeting political passions.

Long live President Abdoulaye Wade. Thank you for everything you have given. Tribute to you, on behalf of all my family, and on behalf of the entire Senegalese nation.

Moustapha Mamba Guirassy

Former Minister, Former Spokesperson for President Abdoulaye Wade.