A conversation with our CEO Nabila Aguele

“Women and girls are incredible catalysts for change — not only in their own lives, but in their communities and across a country.”

That’s how Malala Fund’s new CEO, Nabila Aguele, describes the vision that drives our work: a world where every girl has the rights, resources and opportunities to shape her own future.

We recently sat down with Nabila and spoke about her journey to Malala Fund, what inspires her leadership and her aspirations for the future at this critical moment for girls’ education.

Can you tell us about your journey and what led you to this role at Malala Fund?

I am a lifelong nomad, raised across the world. I am Nigerian by birth, and a global citizen by experience. I was raised across Nigeria, England, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and Canada, and have since lived in Washington D.C., France, and Singapore. That life on the move, shaped by deep immersion in different cultures, communities, and ways of seeing the world, has deeply influenced who I am. 

I started my career as a litigator in Washington, DC, and later became  a law school professor. But over time I found myself increasingly drawn to broader conversations about human rights, impact and development, and gender. Professionally and personally, I was also craving a deeper sense of connection to who I am and to my origins in the Global South. That path led me to pursue an MBA in France and ultimately to return to Nigeria, where I spent a little over seven years advising a federal cabinet member on the country’s fiscal and policy architecture. That experience showed me how deeply policy decisions shape people’s lives, especially the lives of women and girls in vulnerable communities.

I joined Malala Fund almost two years ago as Chief Executive for Nigeria, leading the development and implementation of the Nigeria country strategy under our current Strategic Plan.

Was there a defining moment when you realised the importance of education, especially for girls?

My grandfather was the first Commissioner for Education for Kano state. He was also a traditional ruler who was  committed to education for children, including girls. He was especially adamant that his daughters go to school, and my mom was part of that legacy.  She had the opportunity to study, and she excelled in ways that changed the course of her life, allowing her to build a future beyond Kano and beyond Nigeria.

Because of that, I see education as a pathway to life, to change, to independence, especially for girls. It is part of my mom's origin story, and it is part of mine as well.  The education I received opened up decisions about where I live and what I do with my life — choices that wouldn't otherwise have been available to me. 

As you step into this role, what is your vision for the future of Malala Fund?

I am privileged to have been part of the development and the launch of our five-year strategic plan. It is centred around proximity, putting power in the hands of local activists, driving collective action and centring girls; not just as beneficiaries, but as agents of change. The question then is how do we deepen and accelerate movement toward the commitments we've already made?

Civil society is increasingly working alongside governments, holding them accountable while also pushing for lasting change. I want us to keep showcasing what is possible when philanthropy backs local activists, girl-led and women-led organisations, and advocacy that changes policies and systems. That means investing in organisations already doing this work, while also strengthening the pipeline of civil society leaders in the policy advocacy space.

Too often, the voices of girls and communities are missing from conversations about education financing. When we call for fairer global financial systems that allow countries to invest in girls’ education and other areas of human development, we are ultimately talking about people. We need to tell the full story of how global and national financing systems interact, and why too little funding reaches girls and their education. More importantly, we need to use that story to move decision-makers to action.

Another part of my vision is strengthening collective action among civil society organisations. You will see us lean further into the power of our Education Champion Network: how champions work together within countries, across the global network and what Malala Fund, and philanthropy more broadly, must do to support and strengthen that collective action.

What does success look like for you in the next 3–5 years?

Success means seeing real policy movement and stronger implementation across the priorities we are advancing. There's no one-size-fits-all approach. Each country, each global advocacy stream has its own set of priorities.

But in three to five years, I want us to be able to look back and say: policies moved, implementation improved and more resources are flowing into education. At a minimum, that is what success looks like, and we are already beginning to see progress in that direction.

Success also means meeting our commitment to direct 20% of our grantmaking to girl- and young women-led organisations driving policy and systems change. I want us to look back and see that girls were not only informing the agenda, but leading it with power, vibrancy and authority through their own organisations and movements.

What stories from girls or communities have stayed with you and shaped your perspective?

One story that has stayed with me is of a girl from my own community who was married as a child, at just 15. I will never forget how hard she fought for that not to be her future. Her family believed they were doing the right thing, but it showed me how fragile a girl’s life can be when others have the power to make decisions that permanently alter her path.

When I came to Malala Fund, ending child marriage became one of the priorities that reignited that fire in me. I thought about her, and about so many girls around the world who are fighting until the very last minute, but are let down by policy, social norms and poverty.

More recently, we visited one of our partners in Nigeria, the Centre for Girls Education. They create safe spaces where girls can continue their learning, build their voices, find community and advocate for change. We met adolescent mothers — some married, some divorced, many with children. One young girl shared how, after being married, divorced and ostracised, she found hope and belonging through that safe space, and possibly a pathway back to school.

That experience reminded me why we do this work the way we do — not just in policy rooms, but in communities, and with partners who understand that systems change looks different in every context. For some partners, it means working directly with government on policy. For others, it means creating safe spaces for girls’ continued learning in communities, while also pushing those models into public policy.

Most of all, it reminded me that girls are not victims, statistics or figures. Even as they shared painful stories, we danced, laughed and smiled together. They are full, vibrant human beings with hopes and aspirations. Our work, and our partners’ work, must honour them fully.

What gives you hope when progress feels slow or uncertain?

I’ve learned with time that hope is something that you practice. It's a muscle.

It's not something that we can take for granted, particularly with the work that we do. I've had to learn to be mindful and intentional about seeking out and sustaining that hope and that optimism, because it fuels me and fuels the work. So people: the girls, the team, the partners. Those magic moments where a policymaker or a funder connects with the work. 

Malala gives me hope. She has given me hope from afar for so long, and now getting to work with her and Zia gives me hope. They are walking masterclasses in how to offer hope, sustain it and grow it through challenge, while still holding on to joy and wonder.

If every supporter reading this could take one action today to support girls’ education, what would you ask them to do?

Get involved in whatever way is meaningful and possible for you. That could mean raising awareness, giving your time, making a gift or sharing what you have learned with your class, workplace, family or community. The simplest first step is to talk about the work. Help others understand why girls’ education matters, feel connected to the issue and see the girls at the heart of it.