“I’ve worked in large companies and smaller teams, and the data speaks for itself: bias exists. Sometimes it’s obvious, other times it’s subtle, and hard to pinpoint. It frustrated me a lot at first, but I realised that I shouldn’t let it get in my way. I have come to realise, over time, that prejudice is a problem for those who hold it, not for me. The fact that I was often the only woman in the room gave me the opportunity to bring a different point of view. I turned this minority condition into an advantage, rather than a disadvantage: my sensitivity allowed me to perceive things that others did not. In the world of finance, women are a minority, but the burden of overseeing things is on us: we cannot allow this to block us. Absurdly, the moment I felt that I had broken the glass ceiling was during a combination of seemingly unfavourable conditions: Brexit had just happened, and I worked for Mitsui, a Japanese company where the hierarchy is very rigid.

Yet I managed to become a senior investment manager, managing over 200 million dollars in investments throughout Europe, the Middle East and Africa. Then I realised that my true destiny was different, but that was undoubtedly a significant achievement.
However, in fact, the numbers are alarming: in my sector less than 2% of funding goes to women founders and, less than 0.1% of that 2% to black founders. If change is to happen, we need real action: we need more investors at the table and more sponsors who talk about us in the rooms where we are not yet present. Having my seat at the table gives me the opportunity to help expand that 2%. This is why I say to everyone, no matter in what sector, if you are among the few present in the room, do not be discouraged: stay, make your voice heard, shake the table. Often the secret is not to ask for permission to enter, but to enter with a proposal that no one can ignore.”

“For me, risk management and success are two inseparable dimensions. At first, I thought success was mostly a matter of stocks and money: growing quickly, earning a lot, proving you made it. But you can have all the biggest titles and real money though, if at the end of the day you’re not satisfied, what’s the point? Today I define it differently: success is operating within your purpose, having a real impact and doing it your own way. For me, today, it’s about funding companies that can change industries, create wealth and open up new possibilities, but it’s also about building a life that works outside of work, where I can be present as a mother and continue to do more of what I love.
I truly believe that we are all here for a reason, and that success is experiencing that reason with authenticity. This also means learning to take risks, accepting that fear is part of the path. Growing up in an African family, I had been taught not to take risks, to follow the traditional path: to enter a large company and work my way up the hierarchy over thirty years.

But at university, I saw friends take risks, start businesses, think outside the box. This taught me that fear should not be something that paralyses you, but it can become an engine.
In my career I have made several leaps, often without really knowing what I was doing. When I joined Mitsui, for example, they asked me to lead a team, and I had no idea how to go about doing that. I chose to acknowledge the fear and do it anyway, because you learn along the way. Every risk brings with it lessons that transform you. The thing I have learned, which can be useful to anyone trying to assert their uniqueness, is that risk is the most fertile ground on which to build our authenticity. That does not mean making rash choices, it means listening carefully. Success is not about adapting to an imposed style but rather staying true to your own nature: only by stepping outside your comfort zone and freeing yourself from labels that do not define you can you become the person you are destined to be.”

“When I say ‘it takes a village’ it’s because, looking back, I see more than one person who has been instrumental in my journey. In different ways and contexts, many have made it possible for me to move forward. When I was at Mitsui, for example, and I reached that milestone that made me say ‘I broke the glass ceiling’, I had this colleague who always believed in me and supported me, even in meetings where I was not present. Without sponsors and allies I would not have achieved certain goals. Having external references and support points is not a weakness: it is the way to build solid foundations. No one gets to the top alone and recognising that is part of our strength.
Then there’s family, friends, and loved ones outside the office. Today I have two young children, and I often have to travel for work: I couldn’t do it without the support I have around me, which allows me to continue growing without having to choose between my personal and professional life.

And there are the external contributions of people I have never met, but who have become sources of inspiration and training. Today we have a myriad of tools to fuel our journey: podcasts, stories, contents that have helped me see different possibilities.
I’m thinking about all of this when I say that we need an entire community. I want to say this to women who feel they have to carve out their space but are held back by the fear of not making it: being strong does not mean doing everything alone. It means having the courage to ask for help, to build networks, to accept that support is part of the journey. And it also means recognising that fear is a travelling companion: it reminds us that we are alive. The risk that should scare you the most isn’t failing but not trying. If you want to start a project, do it: if it doesn’t work, you’ll find another way. But if you give up before you even try, all you’ll be left with is regret.
Success is more accessible and stable when you share the journey to get there. Support networks are the true infrastructures of equality, the first step towards equality.”