In the corner of President Abdoulaye Wade's private office is a table with a scale model of the "Cybervillage", a pet plan designed to become Senegal's Silicon Valley.

On the sideboard, a model of a prototype pre-school building stands next to a mock-up of the administrative block of the University of Africa's Future, a projected postgraduate institution that will beam courses by satellite from the US.

Two rooms away are the other models his office did not have space for: Senegal's planned new international airport, centres for youth rehabilitation, for the disabled, for the mentally ill ("mad people," Mr Wade gaily calls them) and a grandiose monument to the African renaissance – an idealised family group designed on such a scale it is having to be cast in South Korea.

"I do the projects here," Mr Wade says, summarising his concept of partnership between the state and private enterprise, "and I get private companies to carry them out."

The presidential palace, the impeccably maintained former seat of the governor-general of French West Africa, is by now almost deserted.

The tour takes place at the end of a late night interview in a week when Mr Wade has, as usual, been busy travelling. For a man of 78, he is not short of stamina.

At the start of the interview, in the high-ceilinged, classically furnished reception area, the shiny-pated president excuses himself, springs from his seat and goes over to a computer to fire off an urgent e-mail. "Cool," whispers an admiring aide.

Mr Wade was already almost 74 when he won office in 2000, becoming Senegal's first non-socialist president. It was his fifth attempt. Backing from other opposition candidates enabled him to obtain 58 per cent of the vote in a run-off against Abdou Diouf, the incumbent head of state.

The tabular content relating to this article is not available to view. Apologies in advance for the inconvenience caused.A crowd-pleaser on the stump, he is a man of different registers who can equally well work an Oxford lecture-theatre audience by playing the understated, dry-humoured and slightly eccentric law professor.

In Senegal he is still called by his lawyer's title as "Maître Abdoulaye Wade".

He began his legal career in France, where he went on a school scholarship, met his French wife Viviane as a student and gained a doctorate in law and economics in Grenoble.

Later he became dean of the law faculty in Dakar and was twice a minister. He founded the Senegalese Democratic party more than 30 years ago. Associates speak of him as "the father".

Age gives him the privilege of speaking his mind. At one point in the conversation, discussing his views on debt, he interjects with a touch of self-deprecating humour: "I am special, you know." Government colleagues worry that what he will say may cause diplomatic distress.

Mr Wade begat one of the precursor projects for Africa that led four years ago to the New Partnership for Africa's Development (Nepad).

But he has been critical of Nepad's slow progress in establishing its credibility as a vehicle for tackling the continent's problems.

Nepad has, he says, created a bureaucracy that "spends its time travelling and in hotels, instead of setting up projects".

Although he says he was one of the proponents of a "peer review" system to vet countries' political and economic governance, he is sceptical about the voluntary mechanism that has been launched.

He reckons the process may take three or four years. "Even if a report comes out, what purpose is it going to serve?" he asks.

Africa would have done better starting with regional co-operation rather than a continental-scale plan, he argues, "because on a regional level, we know each other, and we talk very frankly".

He is convinced countries such as Senegal can reduce dependence on aid by using their own resources. They should, he says, get better deals from oil and mining companies to share profits.

But although Senegal has awarded concessions for offshore oil exploration, he fears the destabilising effect oil wealth has had on other African countries.

"I don't want oil, or gold either," he laughs. "I prefer to leave it to my successor. I know there's gold in Senegal. But I say I won't exploit it." He reckons he can manage the country's development without it.

Mr Wade has his own theories about handling the remainder of the country's $3bn foreign debt burden.

"I'm for paying the debt," he says, adding the important proviso that this would apply only to servicing "the debt that I owe" and not to obligations on commercial loans made under unreasonable conditions.

West African nations could pool their outstanding debts into a common fund, he suggests, and restore their capacity to borrow.

Strong French ties notwithstanding, Mr Wade looks to the US as an increasingly significant partner for exports and aid.

"The US, more than France, consults me on African problems," he says.

President George W. Bush made Dakar his first stop on his 2003 African tour and held talks with Mr Wade in Washington last month when the Senegalese president received the National Democratic Institute's W. Averell Harriman democracy award.

Until recently, Mr Wade was dubious about the UK-sponsored Commission for Africa, due to report ahead of this year's Group of Eight summit.

But he says he has now been persuaded of the "usefulness" of the initiative.

He has just over two years of his mandate left. Will he stand again in 2007, when Senegal reverts to a five-year presidential term?

"That depends," says Mr Wade. "If I am dead I shall not be a candidate."

In any case, he adds, he intends to finish all his projects.

His cherished new airport will be built "with the Arabs" – using Middle East finance.

Plans for a new inland capital 150km from Dakar will also go ahead.

The name has yet to be chosen. Mr Wade pauses and then adds: "Rest assured, it won't be called Wadeville."