Wakiuru Njuguna comes down to the terrace restaurant of the Hyatt Regency Hotel. She is smaller than you remember her. Lighter, literally, and, as you will learn shortly, figuratively. She is having a staycation with her best friend, which is an urban ritual where well-heeled people (women, if we are being honest) leave their nice homes to stay in ritzy hotels with views and do nothing but have prosecco during the day, talk into the night and get pampered through the weekend.
It's not the weekend.
But rules be damned, for Wakiuru, who has taken some time off.
“I’ve always been someone who sticks to the plan. I’m steady,” she says. “But I also realise now that I tied myself too tightly to the script I had for my life. I'm changing all that.” And a few other things in her life. She now finds herself upon the Rubicon of her 30s that was littered with ambition, motherhood and all the stuff between that. She turns 40 in three months, and she is throwing a bunch of things overboard: habits, expectations, the performance of having it all together. The over-committing. The relentless ‘yes.’
A finance person bored by the tedium and tyranny of numbers, she, many years ago, found her tribe among creatives. She runs HEVA Fund, a creative economy fund that has spent the better part of a decade solving a problem. How do you move real, sustainable capital to artistes? She has spent 12 years building that answer. Now, standing at the edge of 40, she is already thinking about what comes next. A financial institution for creatives. Something that moves like a bank but was built for people banks don’t care too much about, where, at the click of a button, a filmmaker gets a loan, a photographer insures her equipment. “Now, how does that transform into a Pan-African entity?” She poses rhetorically.
Questions. The bane of 40. She is asking several at this time, red pen in hand, striking through whole paragraphs that no longer fit.
You have always avoided the media…
Because I’ve always been a behind-the-scenes person. For the longest time, I felt like the work should tell the story. But I’m also turning a big age this year, so I figured, why not?
Oh, which big age is that?
40.
Oh, still young…
Turning 40 has made me very reflective. I’ve been thinking a lot about my journey; how I got here, what lessons I need to carry with me, and what I need to let go of as I move into this next phase. For a long time, I felt like I didn't have enough to say yet. Like I hadn't gathered enough life. But now I’m like, okay…I think I have.
How has the first half of your life been?
A wild ride. A roller coaster. I was never the child who knew what they wanted to be when they grew up. I was always just like, I don’t know yet. I only ever knew when I was in it. When I was about 25, I got to The Nest, and that was the first time I felt truly aligned with what I was doing. I don't like boredom.
Anything that requires repetitive tasks really bores me, which, for someone who studied accounting and finance, sounds ridiculous. At The Nest, the work felt different. It was still accounting, but I had to think outside the box.
On a film set, what does production accounting look like? If we are publishing a book, what does that kind of accounting look like? Every project demanded something different. I guess that's how I eventually segued into HEVA. But I always knew I would recognise the thing when I found it.
You studied finance, then you found your way into the creative space…
It was everything. You don’t get many finance professionals in the creative world, so there were many things I had to figure out as I went along. But I was deeply fascinated by the people and how creative minds transform an idea into a beautiful thing, whether it’s a film, a book, or fashion.
I’ve always felt creative too, just from a financial and mathematical perspective. So, when I started doing that work, I finally felt like I had found my tribe because growing up, I had always felt slightly out of place.
How so?
I never really felt like I fit into different spaces growing up. I'm a firstborn, and there’s about a six-year age gap between my brother and me. So, for the first six years of my life, I was basically alone.
I became quite a loner. But when I entered that creative space, I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. There was a real need for my skill set. For the first time, I felt accepted, with all my quirks and everything that came with me.
I was quite chubby in primary school, and I got teased a lot. I had joined an expensive private school on scholarship, which introduced another layer to the feeling of not belonging.
The other children always seemed to know who was on scholarship and who wasn’t. They went to places like Village Market on weekends. I couldn’t relate to that world. That feeling of not quite belonging followed me through many spaces growing up.
So you’ve always been the odd duck?
It did come with a bit of loneliness, but not the kind where I was sad all the time. I was just very comfortable being by myself. That part followed me into adulthood. I can be around people, enjoy it even, but afterwards I’ll need time alone to decompress.
Even when I’m going through something, my instinct is to retreat inward first. Once I’ve processed things, I’m able to come back and figure out a way forward.
Have the things you sought to achieve by 40 come to fruition?
No. I always said that when I turned 40, I wanted to take a sabbatical and rest. But you make plans, and God laughs. The first six months of this year have been some of the most defining of my life, both personally and professionally.
This year has really been about accepting that life may not unfold the way I imagined, and learning not to cling too tightly to my plans. I’m still learning how to let go. It’s probably the hardest lesson for me.
What are you letting go of?
Expectations. My own, and everybody else’s. As a firstborn child, you grow up meeting expectations. Taking care of people, making sure you’re not disappointing anyone. I’ve carried that into adulthood. This season has been about setting some of it down.
What are some of the habits you are throwing overboard?
There was a period where everything was a ‘yes’. There's a panel to sit on? Yes. There’s an event? Yes, I’ll be there. You say yes so many times that you slowly start compromising your own boundaries.
Through HEVA Fund, Wakiuru Njuguna has spent more than a decade expanding access to capital for creative entrepreneurs.
Then you wonder, “Why am I so exhausted”? A lot of it came from overperforming, maybe it’s a firstborn thing, maybe a firstborn daughter thing. But I’m realising I need to stop. Part of that is learning to say no, I can't show up. I'm not ready for this. If something doesn’t feel okay, it’s fine to say so.
What’s been your most defining period so far?
My early to mid-30s. I have three children, and at the same time, I wanted my career to grow while we were building HEVA. We started in our early 30s, typically when people are settling into careers and climbing corporate ladders.
But for us, it was deep-building mode, all the time, while raising very young children. There were many moments when I felt pulled in completely different directions. Do I show up for something important for my child, or do I go for a meeting that could completely change HEVA’s trajectory? That was probably the most difficult season.
Talking of teachings, what has motherhood taught you?
Humility. You quickly realise you know nothing. Even with my first child, I thought I had a template. Then my second came, and I realised the same template won't work. It also taught me to let go of the fixed idea I had of myself as a mother.
No screen time, no junk food…all the things you say before you actually become a parent. Eventually, you realise, it’s fine. They’ll survive. More than anything, motherhood makes you realise you're only doing oversight for a period. Eventually, they become individuals regardless of how much guidance you try to give them. You have to let go.
What have you changed your mind on lately? Something fundamental.
I have come to believe that you don’t always have to stick to that script. I’ve always stuck to the plan. I’m very steady. But I realise now that I tied myself too tightly to the script I had for my life. And when life throws punches at you, it becomes very hard to imagine another route because you’re so attached to the original plan.
So, this season has been about letting go of that script and understanding that sometimes life requires you to take a different route. It may not be the route you imagined, but it can still take you where you need to go.
What’s been your biggest failure so far as you head to 40?
Around 2017, 2018, we ran out of funding and had to close shop briefly. At the time, it felt like a personal failure. I was in charge of investments and finance, so I felt like I should have seen it coming.
But in hindsight, that period taught us a lot. None of us had ever run a fund before. We were building the plane while flying it. Some lessons only come when you are in the middle of a mistake. By the time we started rebuilding, we had a completely different perspective on what needed to change.
Would you come back as a mother in the next life?
Yes, but I would have children later. Maybe at 40. I really struggled early on in motherhood. A lot of it came down to emotional maturity. At that stage, it feels like your world is ending. Your friends are out living their lives, and you’re home with a baby. It can feel like being trapped.
I’ve definitely been a much calmer mother with my third child, whom I had at around 36, than I was with my firstborn. With my first child, I was anxious about everything.
What are you greatly insecure about now?
I've struggled with imposter syndrome for years. It shows up in two ways: overcompensating or downplaying my achievements. You do something significant, and instead of owning it, you tell yourself it's not a big deal. Not something worth recognising.
What’s your level of happiness right now?
Happiness is very fleeting. Joy is more important. Happiness feels tied to something. I achieved this, therefore I am happy. But joy is more internal. It’s not tied to shifts in your life. You just carry it. A lot of that comes from gratitude.
I know that sounds like something from a podcast, but it’s true. When you focus on what is working instead of only what isn’t, that’s where gratitude comes from. And from that, joy. I can’t say I’m there yet, but I’m working toward it.
Being in finance, what’s your relationship with money?
I’m very attached to money, which I know is not necessarily a good thing. [Chuckles] I didn’t grow up with wealth, and I saw what not having money can do, so I became very afraid of losing it. I plan everything down to the last cent.
If I’m taking a holiday in December, I’ve probably planned for it since January. But that’s also something I’m learning to loosen up. I’m learning to let go and have some fun too.
