Inside the Room Where Funding Decisions Get Made
Reflections from my work as a grantmaker, funding early-stage founders solving some of the world's biggest problems.
I studied law for seven years. Yet, I didn’t apply to a single law firm. I ranked at the top of my class and argued mock trial cases in law school, but I knew I wasn’t called to practice law.
However, if you told the new graduate me that I would become a grantmaker, she might not have believed you. Two years later, it is a journey that has given me so much perspective.
Grantmaking, like beekeeping, is complicated. Funders are the queen to whom lots of applicants swarm. Many parts sting. But oh, how sweet is the honey! Honey, for me, has never changed. My goal as a grantmaker is to help changemakers and funders intersect in a way that makes the most impact. Our world is teeming with as much talent as there is need, but resources are finite. My work connects teams to opportunities that help them positively impact thousands and even millions of lives.
In two years, I’ve evaluated thousands of grant applications, listened to hundreds of aspiring and established social entrepreneurs and funded dozens of new organisations distributing products and services aimed at reducing poverty. My time as a grantmaker has taught me a lot. And if I could tell the new graduate me anything, I would tell her what to expect.
You’ll get a lot of pushback
The first time I received an insulting email from an applicant, I was shocked. Surely, this wasn’t for me. But it was, and it wasn’t the last one. There’s a thin line between advocating for your idea and being unreasonable. Unfortunately, many people cross it. Rejection hurts. That’s a fact. But throwing a tantrum rarely strengthens your application or reputation.
On the flip side, one of my highlights of the past years has been receiving feedback from applicants, sharing how my questions and decisions helped them rethink aspects of their model they had previously ignored, or pivot from what was an objectively unwise approach to their work.
Understand that every grant opportunity isn’t right for you. Sometimes, it’s not you; it’s us. Different funders are built to support different kinds of work. Other times, it is you. In either case, a strongly worded email is never the Hail Mary you think it is.
Witnessing impact will change you
I’ve found that being a grantmaker is quite like talent management. You scout for passion and potential, diamonds in the rough, if you will. My work, in particular, discovers social entrepreneurs at the beginning of their social change journeys. You have your hopes and predictions for what their impact looks like in five or ten years, but you have no way of knowing.
One of the highlights of my last year was visiting two grantees in Nigeria, five years after they received their seed grant. Lafiya has scaled contraceptive access to multiple states in Northern Nigeria. HealthPort now strengthens oxygen access in 10 hospitals in South-West Nigeria, saving critical care patients.
Seeing their work in person reminded me that evaluations aren’t just rows in a spreadsheet. They are decisions that shape real lives, from a young woman in Sokoto to a premature baby in Lagos.
Sometimes, all you need is to touch grass, literally. Get out there and visit your grantees. Ask questions, listen to the stories of participants, and observe what happens beyond the cheque.
Your definition of success will change
Early in my career, success meant more numbers. Now, I think differently.
My goal during outreach isn’t to collect more applications but to reach better-matched applicants. I care more about the quality and the clarity of the pool than the volume. I am thinking, how can I help more people to succeed in this cycle?
In the same vein, bigger numbers don’t always equate deeper impact in social entrepreneurship. Many people love the optics of big numbers. We’ve reached 300K people in three months. But how much of the initial transformation remains after six to twelve months? Sometimes, real change looks like 100 people served well, then 500, and then scale.
Boundaries protect everyone
I was at a workshop a few months ago, when an aspiring founder asked for my personal phone number. A few years ago, I might have said yes. This time, I declined.
Many impact professionals burn out because the boundaries are always blurred. And honestly, it’s hard to pause when the need never stops. Rest is a privilege. It shouldn’t be, but it is. The privilege of having balance and the space to slow down. I’ve learnt to honour this privilege by being intentional about it.
Rest allows you to bring your best self back to work. And it doesn’t just protect grantmakers, it also protects the work itself. When you’re rested, you think more clearly, listen more deeply, and make better decisions.
Trust is currency
In the funding pipeline, trust is the gift that keeps on giving. Like most people, you won’t give money to someone you don’t trust. Yet, many aspiring social entrepreneurs ask funders to back them without showing why they are credible and how they can deliver. Even after the first cheque clears, trust is still what helps you grow and scale. The organisations that create the most impact are often the ones that are trusted by their funders and their participants.
On the funder side, trust matters too. Micromanaging entrepreneurs rarely strengthens outcomes. If you chose them, trust them. Remain a partner, not a controller. Is this sometimes risky? Yes. But big bets require calculated risks, and it is worth it when these risks lead to outcomes like thousands of women gaining access to free, safe contraceptives.
These two years have changed how I think about impact, readiness, and decisions. If you work in funding, social entrepreneurship, or social impact, I’ll be sharing more reflections every two weeks.
In the meantime, if you’re looking for daily reads from me, I post practical insights and reflections from my work as a funder on LinkedIn.