SINCE I heard of the death of the former United Nations secretary-general, Kofi Annan, I have been reflecting on what made him so special.
To my mind, it is simply this: Annan was one-of-a-kind and one of us.
He was an exceptional global leader — and he was also someone anyone could identify with: those on the far reaches of poverty, conflict and despair found in him an ally; the junior UN staff member following in his footsteps; the young person to whom he said until his dying breath “always remember, you are never too young to lead — and we are never too old to learn”.
Like a rare few in our time, Annan could bring people together, put them at ease, and unite them towards our common humanity.
Annan could say everything, sometimes without uttering a word. It came from the dignity and the moral conviction and the humanity that was so deep in him.
He was courageous, speaking truth to power while subjecting himself to self-scrutiny. And like his predecessor Dag Hammarskjold, he had an almost mystical sense of the UN’s role as a force for good in a world of ills.
He pioneered new ideas and initiatives, including the Millennium Development Goals and the landmark reforms in his report, In Larger Freedom.
He opened the doors of the UN, bringing the organisation closer to the world’s people and engaging new partners in protecting the environment, defending human rights and combating HIV/AIDS and other killer diseases.
Annan was the UN and the UN was him.
He was also my good friend. We marched through life together in many ways.
When the people of Timor-Leste were seeking self-determination, we worked together — he from the UN, and I as prime minister of Portugal — to support the peaceful resolution of their plight.
When the UN Refugee Agency needed new leadership, Annan blessed me with his trust in asking me to fill that role, and then provided unwavering support to protect and shelter the most vulnerable of the vulnerable.
Now that I occupy the office Annan once held, I am continually inspired by his integrity, dynamism and dedication.
To him, indifference was the world’s worst poison.
Even after finishing his term as secretary-general, he never stopped battling on the front-lines of diplomacy.
He helped to ease post-election tensions in Kenya, gave his all to find a political solution to the brutal war in Syria and set out a path for ensuring justice and rights for the Rohingya of Myanmar.
Annan straddled many worlds, North and South, East and West. But he found his surest anchor in his African roots and identity.
The great Nelson Mandela, accustomed to being called Madiba, had his own nickname for Kofi, and called him “my leader”.
This was no jest. Kofi was our leader too.
When I last saw him not long ago at the UN, his bearing was how I will always remember him: calm yet determined, ready to laugh but always filled with the gravity of the work we do.
He is gone now and we will miss him immensely.
But I am sure of this — if we continue to lean in and listen hard, we will still hear the words and wise counsel of Annan.
“Please carry on,” I hear him saying. “You know what to do: Take care of each other. Take care of our planet. Recognise the humanity in all people. And support the UN — the place where we can all come together to solve problems and build a better future for all”.
António Guterres is the United Nations secretary-general