I feel grateful that my home country has a different kind of power—the sort that changes lives instead of ending them.

My country has one of the most evolved constitutions in the world. It was written to make sure the horrors of apartheid could never happen again, no matter what future presidents might attempt. We are The Rainbow Nation, and diversity is sacrosanct. That’s because Mandela and Desmond Tutu responded to the apartheid era through a lens of forgiveness and human dignity, not military might.

Our constitution didn’t put us in the position to win wars with foreign countries.

It put us in the position to win wars against bigotry: Wars with ammunition made of non-sexism, non-racialism, and equality. We’re not an economic empire. We can barely afford a loaf of bread, but we were one of the first countries on earth to legalise gay marriage. My city is known as the LGBTQ+ capital of Africa because a man named Madiba wrote equality into law.

We don’t build many bombs.

We build dignity, and despite our many, many flaws, we have continued to strive for equality for all. We have a junk economy and a government mired in corruption. In many ways, we’re a country of chaos, and yet we have strengths that many foreigners do not: Universal healthcare, trans rights, reproductive rights, and a court dedicated entirely to preserving our natural heritage.

We spend an awful lot of time complaining about our flaws, and that’s understandable. Still, when a foreign country bangs its fist on a table and declares itself powerful due to its military and money, I feel grateful that my home country has a different kind of power—the sort that changes lives instead of ending them.

I remember 1994. The entire country was terrified that we’d charge headlong into a civil war. We didn’t believe that any government could lead us out of apartheid without violence. That’s because we didn’t know there were men on the planet like Madiba and Tutu. Had we known, we would have felt a lot more hope.

Thursday was Mandela Day: a global celebration of Madiba’s legacy. The UN added it to the calendar because our greatest leader has a lot to teach the world. It asks everyone to dedicate 67 minutes to social justice as a symbol of the 67 years Madiba spent doing the same.

I’ve spent the last two days being told that greatness is built from military and economic power. If Mandela had those values, South Africa would be a very different country today. I prefer living under a constitution built to protect diversity. We’ve had our own Trump-like president, so we’ve seen our constitution in action. Even the president is forced to protect our freedom and bodily autonomy.

I don’t want to live in an empire. There are many kinds of power, and I prefer the kind that Madiba and Tutu instilled in us. I prefer having the freedom to terminate a pregnancy, and I prefer knowing that if I can’t afford private healthcare one day, I'll be able to access it free of charge.

Madiba once said, “If calamities had the weight of physical objects we should long have been crushed down, or else, we should by now have been hunchbacked, unsteady on our feet, and with faces full of gloom and utter despair. Yet my entire body throbs with life and is full of expectations. Each day brings a fresh stock of experiences and new dreams.”

That’s my kind of leader.