While I never knew or saw him personally in my life, it still pains me deeply to write this piece.

The truly great and legendary among us don't need tributes, for their eminence and legacy is celebrated and revered, regardless of whether they're still with us in this world or they’ve moved on to the next.

Indeed, no words can totally encapsulate the impact that they leave in our lives; the best that they can do is to provide a fleeting snapshot.

Still, I am pretty sure that if not for the Islamic prohibition on displaying the likenesses of people, I can safely say that many, myself included, would have lobbied and went to great lengths to erect statues, gardens, and edifices in his name all over the world. After all, he has touched the lives of millions of people through his social, education, interfaith, and cultural initiatives.

Speaking of admiring greatness, I want to pay a humble tribute to a person who loved and cared for others in the same way one would take care of their family, even though he never saw them at all.

Now, in the place where I live, we have just started to reap the fruits of peace and prosperity. Many of us thought that these two words were nothing but the keywords of an impossible-to-reach algorithm; others even thought that Mindanao would forever be a thrice-cursed land, marred by rivers of blood and endless violence.

I live in a city called Zamboanga, a major commercial city in Southern Philippines known for its sardines and barter trade as well as the only place in Asia where a Spanish creole, called Chavacano, is spoken. Population-wise, it has more or less the same population as Edmonton in Canada or Cologne in Germany. Today, if you were to walk around the city, you will admire the small-town vibes that the city exudes by day. At night, everyone talks about the latest hangout or neighborhood gossip while drinking a nice, warm cup of coffee, just like any other normal neighborhood elsewhere in the world. It's a nice, cozy sight, no?

Those who live in the region know very well it wasn't always like this. To put it shortly, conflict was so pervasive to the point that it spilled into everyone’s daily lives and relationships: It would not be far-fetched to say that trust was in short supply.

As a former student who was lucky to earn a scholarship at Filipino-Turkish Tolerance School, I got to see first-hand that Christians and Muslims can actually live together in harmony, share the same interests, and forge strong relationships.

I was lucky to experience that culture of peace and positive diversity that was made possible through the educational vision of Hocaefendi and the unrelenting, hard work of our teachers, all of whom shared the same ideas and aspirations.

Through his educational vision, we gained the chance to learn and embrace sustainability, inclusivity, and multiculturalism long before they became the buzzwords that we see today on our smartphones and LED screens.

Most importantly, we have learned to live for others. 

We all know that there are many stories about Mr. Gülen, whom we also call Hocaefendi (Esteemed Teacher): I also have one, one that shows his kindness and affection to people who he never met in person – as well as his personal effort to create stronger bonds of friendship between two cultures.

When he heard about the existence of Taluksangay Mosque, a historical center for worship built by Zamboanga's Muslim clans in 1886 and visited by representatives of the Ottoman Sheikh-ul Islam in 1914, he didn't hesitate to find a way to make the people of Taluksangay feel that they are a part of the greater world around them.

Without delay, he immediately raised funds to procure a chandelier to serve as a concrete and shining token of friendship between Turkey and the Philippines. If one visits the mosque today, one can see the chandelier prominently hung under the main ceiling.

Think of it: Someone just heard about a place that has a small connection to Islam and Turkish Muslim history – and immediately takes steps to strengthen those ties even without knowing who those people are. It takes sagacity, courage, and kindness to execute this step, and these are the very qualities that make Hocaefendi the person that he is.

Yes, he showed us how to be brothers to people we don't know – and we might never see even once in our lives. While he never got the chance to visit Taluksangay, the chandelier will remain as a symbol of cordial ties between the people of Turkey and the Philippines for many, many years to come.

I am personally and eternally thankful for the kindness, the warmth, and the concern that he displayed for us here in the Philippines, despite the fact that it is literally halfway around the world.

Deep in my heart, I wished for a chance to meet him and say thank you personally. Alas, it will not come to pass, as Hocaefendi has already traveled to the presence of our Creator. Even as I write these words, my heart is still down in the dumps – as if hit by a sledgehammer.

Goodbye, Esteemed Teacher. We proudly and boldly attest that we knew you as a good person in this life, and we look forward to seeing you in the abode where existence is eternal, and happiness is abundant!