As the first African-American secretary of state, Powell has been accorded near-messianic treatment in Africa. And perhaps because he is black, there was a profound resonance to Powell's harsh criticism of the doddering strongmen ruling Zimbabwe, Kenya, Gabon, Togo and other countries, and his call for democracy and governments that are accountable to their people.

On the plane from Washington to Mali, Powell admitted to reporters that he felt an "emotional twinge" in returning to Africa. He had visited several years prior to being named secretary of state. "Obviously I'm moved by the fact that I'm the first African-American secretary of state to visit Africa," he said. He reminded reporters that his job was to represent the Bush administration and "show we have an interest in Africa."

People know this. But despite some critics (including a handful of pro-Palestinian demonstrators who blocked his car at a university in Johannesburg, South Africa), crowds across the continent greeted Powell with a hero's welcome. As we traveled from site to site, local people told him of the pride they felt in him, and the hope he brought as a black leader. One close aide said that he was sure Powell felt a powerful connection, as did those who meet him.

What is surprising and perhaps refreshing for Africa, with its "big men" and slavish respect for authority, is that Powell is American to his core in his commitment to accountability and rule of law.

"There are many who seem reluctant to submit to the rule of law and the will of the people," Powell said Thursday at Witwatersrand University in Johannesburg.

"After more than 20 years in power, Zimbabwean President [Robert] Mugabe seems determined to remain in power. As you know, it is for the citizens of Zimbabwe to choose their leader in a free and fair election." Mugabe's supporters have intimidated and harassed opposition politicians, journalists and white farmers in a bid to whip up support for another term in power. Following Powell's speech, Zimbabwe officials promptly told the U.S. to butt out of their domestic affairs.

In Kenya, President Daniel arap Moi also has clung to power -- for 22 years -- and in Nairobi on Saturday, Powell learned that the cagey, aging politician may well try to run again next year, despite a limit of two terms under the nation's 1992 constitution. Moi supports a commission that is rewriting the constitution and will probably do so in a way that will allow him to run once more.

I asked Moi at a press conference, after he met with Powell, if he would heed the American secretary of state's call and unequivocally say that he would not stand for another term in power in next year's elections.

The Kenyan leader was silent for half a minute, glaring at the reporters across from him. "I think it is too much for foreigners to try to underestimate the intelligence of the African people," he said. "Those who will decide the destiny of Kenya, for instance, of other countries, will be the people themselves. I made my point when I was in the U.S. so I don't know what is worrying you." Then he turned and walked away.

A moment later a Kenyan journalist said to me, "everybody in this town knows he is going to run. He can't give up power."

The next morning, in Kibera, Nairobi's worst slum, 18-year-old Godfrey Oketch read the front pages of the newspapers he could not afford to buy. The headline of the People on Sunday read: "U.S. Expects Moi's Retirement in 2002." The paper read a bit more into Powell's support for democracy than the secretary actually said. But Oketch, one of hundreds of thousands living in Kibera's fetid, dusty alleys, said Powell's visit and calls for new leadership gave him hope.

"Colin Powell's visit has to make a change -- Moi has to go," said the young man.

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