Amplifying Voices: Women Shaping Education & Philanthropy
Welcome to a special series where we shine a spotlight on the extraordinary women transforming the education and philanthropy landscape. These visionaries are breaking barriers, creating innovative solutions, and driving meaningful change through their leadership and expertise. In each conversation, we'll delve into their personal journeys, leadership philosophies, and visions for systemic change in education.
Through candid discussions, we'll explore what initially drew these remarkable women to education, the pivotal moments that shaped their approaches, and how their identities as women have influenced their leadership styles. We'll examine how they navigate the delicate balance between depth and breadth of impact, their strategies for fostering effective partnerships, and their perspectives on the most pressing barriers to educational transformation. Join me as we learn from their experiences, challenges, and aspirations for the future of education.
Today, I have honor to share my recent exchange with Nishat Riaz MBE , Chief Executive at the Malala Fund Pakistan. Nishat brings over 20 years of transformational leadership in education. Previously, she served as Global Head of Higher Education Systems and Internationalisation at the British Council after nearly a decade as Director Education in Pakistan. A pioneering figure, Nishat was the founding member of Karakorum International University—the first university in Gilgit-Baltistan province—and the region's first female engineer. Her extensive governance experience includes board positions with Aga Khan Cultural Services, CIQAM women's social enterprise, and Karakoram International University's Senate. For her exceptional contributions to education, she was awarded the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (MBE) by Queen Elizabeth II and an honorary doctorate in education leadership from Cardiff Metropolitan University. Alongside her professional achievements, Nishat is passionate about women's empowerment and creating equitable education opportunities in underserved communities.
Dear Nishat, I warmly congratulate you to your new position as Chief Executive at the Malala Fund Pakistan. Thank you for the opportunity to speak.
Let's start with your background. How did you first enter the philanthropic sector, and was there any connection to education? How has your perspective evolved throughout your career? Was there a pivotal moment or challenge that shaped your leadership approach?
I see this as a personal journey rather than just a professional one. It's important for me to bring my whole self into my work – there's no separation between the personal and professional Nishat.
My story begins in my early childhood in the 1970s. I grew up in a small village community nestled in a mountain valley. The world appeared small, and opportunities even smaller. Mountain communities survive by working together. My first memories are of social work – we had community initiatives for shoes, water, and environmental cleaning. I was privileged to be part of the girls' guides. In our community, sharing was fundamental – if you had extra food, you shared it; if you needed something, you asked without shame. I was raised in an environment built on kindness, compassion, empathy, and giving.
Despite this wonderful community, we had limited opportunities – few jobs and schools. I didn't attend school until I was 10 years old. My mother, though uneducated herself, was intellectually curious and instilled in me a hunger for education. She believed education was the only bridge that could carry me beyond those mountains. She would say, 'These mountains are mighty, but you will be mightier if you cross them through education.'
I became the first girl in my family's 800-year history to pursue higher education and the first female engineer in my province. This came with tremendous responsibility – I felt I had no option but to succeed. This wasn't a burden but a treasure I carried.
The philanthropic instinct – giving, sharing, contributing – is part of my DNA from the environment I grew up in. Meanwhile, I witnessed education's transformative power firsthand. I became the first girl in my family's 800-year history to pursue higher education and the first female engineer in my province. This came with tremendous responsibility – I felt I had no option but to succeed. This wasn't a burden but a treasure I carried. I knew that my success would motivate other parents to educate their daughters and strengthen community belief in education. If I failed, it wouldn't be seen as my personal shortcoming but as a failure of education itself.
The more I work in education globally, the stronger my conviction grows. Philanthropy is about providing opportunities for those who lack resources, and education is the ultimate transformative power. If there's one thing that could change this world for the better, it's free access to quality education for everyone.
Thank you for sharing that powerful personal reflection. I particularly connect with your mountain imagery because I'm also a Swiss girl. Growing up in Zurich but spending much time in the mountains, I relate to that feeling of wanting to surpass those heights and your connection to education.
Thank you. You have the Alps; we have the Karakoram, Himalayas, and Hindu Kush. Hunza isn't exactly like Switzerland, but people call it the Switzerland of Pakistan. So we already share something in common.
Continuing about how education propelled you into a leadership role, showcasing possibilities for girls from marginalized communities – how has this experience shaped your current leadership style? And what impact did being a woman have in your various leadership positions and board roles?
I believe we humans constantly evolve, and this process of evolution and reformation is our most beautiful quality. I've seen myself trying to improve and accepting my mistakes along the way.
By qualification, I'm an engineer. Through a wonderful coincidence, I entered education when I was made project director for establishing the first university in my province right after graduation. I led consultants, advisors, and educators—all far more experienced than me. This was my turning point. That opportunity helped me realize you're never too young to make an impact. All you need is passion, commitment, and honesty—honesty about what you know, what you don't know, and when to ask for help.
Though I was the project director, my real strength was bringing people together. My role was creating an environment of trust, faith, and acceptance of mistakes. The team did the magic. In just 10-12 months, we established a functional university with students enrolled. I remember standing before the first batch of 30 female computer students, amazed that we'd navigated all the legal requirements, procurement, approvals, and charters in less than a year.
That experience taught me about trust and faith in people, compassion about our purpose, and the importance of how we achieve our goals. It's not just about project management milestones and spreadsheets, but making things workable for everyone involved.
My leadership style keeps evolving, but people remain at its heart—both those I work with and those I work for. I strive for authenticity. There are times when assertiveness is necessary, but always with respect, compassion, and empathy. It's not a cookie-cutter formula, but essentially focuses on why we're doing something—for people and communities—and finding the best way to do it.
Thank you for sharing that. What would you recommend to young female leaders emerging in education and philanthropy? What are your key takeaways beyond authenticity, collaboration, and creating that trustful environment where magic happens?
Today's younger generation is more agile and connected than we were, with greater access to information and opportunities. But their biggest challenge is navigating the noise—hyperlinks, connections, and networks can make things messy.
As an engineer, I always consider what actually makes sense. How do I extract the real signal from all this noise? How do I ensure my true north remains visible as my guiding star? How do I stay on track with my mission and purpose? This requires honesty with ourselves. Inside each of us is a genuine human being, a conscience we sometimes silence. It's always good to reflect: Why am I doing this? Is this the best approach? Am I getting lost in peripheral issues rather than focusing on fundamentals?
This reflection requires certain values we adhere to as women leaders. And because we are women, it's not an easy or fair world. As Condoleezza Rice wrote, we have to be at least twice as good to prove ourselves. Coming from a developing country, with biases against our passport, skin color, or religion, we have to be ten times better than our male counterparts. The best way to prove ourselves is through authenticity—being honest with ourselves and our purpose.
Everything else—qualifications, methods, tools—are derivatives. We can access these resources as long as we're true to ourselves and accept our vulnerability to mistakes and biases. It helps to have alert senses and critical friends who tell us when we can do better.
I often ask children and parents what they want when building a school. We have designers, consultants, and experts, but we need to remember who we're serving. It's about creating that environment while acknowledging our vulnerability.
Now, I'd like to move into the education field. Recently, there's been an increased focus on systems change in the work of foundations and implementing partners. What do you think are the key barriers to achieving systemic change in education? We know there are challenges in funding, access, and quality. What needs to be in place to truly have a systems change approach in education?
Systems change is hard for many reasons. First, it requires significant political will and persistence, yet governments and political leaders often lack patience. They want easy, visible solutions rather than sustainable ones. Unlike building a bridge or a building, reform takes time.
Systemic change is painstaking—once you implement a reform, it takes ages to see results. As humans, we're impatient; we want quick results. This impatience runs through our political systems as well. The urgent educational needs we face today aren't new—they existed in the 17th century and will persist into the 22nd century if we don't address them properly. We've prioritized quick wins and short-term outcomes over meaningful systemic change.
In the Global North, we've seen systemic change leading to sustainable long-term development. But in the Global South, the situation is sad. The scale of education challenges is enormous. In Pakistan, where I'm sitting, at least 26 million children are out of school—most of them girls. Even if we started systemic change today, it would take at least 50 years for every Pakistani child to attend school.
Who can wait 50 years? So, everyone takes their chances, doing their own small bit. This raises the question: do we need depth or scale of impact? Sometimes you just need to do your small part. While it's the state's responsibility to reach scale, when states fail, we can't stay quiet. Philanthropists, funders, donors, implementing partners, and civil society must step in to create deeper impact—even if it's just for one child, ten children, or fifty children. That's not systemic change, but it addresses urgent needs and emergencies.
This is where donors, partners, philanthropists, and civil society play a crucial role. You can't just support states that don't support systemic change—you must hold them accountable by raising your voice, ensuring funding is available and transparent, and demanding immediate, mid-term, and long-term results.
I don't just blame states but also donors and funding agencies. We're part of the problem when we support what's easy and what delivers quick wins. Why haven't we made more progress despite billions in international development assistance for education? First, donors aren't holding states accountable. Second, they have their own interests. Third, they work in isolation—every donor wants to be unique.
As a result, we have islands of excellence and pockets of wonderful initiatives, but they don't create broader impact because we don't work together. We're too focused on our branding, image, and visibility. While I blame states and governments, there's much that happens outside state control that could help drive systemic change.
Thank you. That leads me to the next question about the role of partnerships. You mentioned a lot of siloed thinking from both the funding side and civil society. What are your thoughts on ideal partnerships? As you said, it's happening only in small pockets currently. What is the role of partnership in all this?
The world works in partnership, doesn't it? Nature has made us this way—everything works in partnership.
We don't exist in a vacuum. No one exists in a vacuum. Nothing should exist in a vacuum, especially not education. Education should be the bridge building all these partnerships together, connecting those who talk to each other. Education is also a powerful tool for bringing everyone together—that's its strength.
In partnerships, there are different agendas, objectives, and drivers. Although we can maintain our unique identities, if the purpose—the 'why'—is the same, we can still work together and create synergies. Some people bring money, some bring knowledge, some provide the fertile ground.
Let me share an example: There were communities we wanted to work with, but funding issues existed. We approached them saying, 'If you want a school, you need to provide the land.' They responded, 'Why not? We have land. Please take it and build a school. We don't have resources to build it ourselves.' They brought in community teachers and became owners of the community schools. It's a small example, a small prototype, but it demonstrates how large organizations and funders can work together.
The magic of partnerships is immense and still largely untapped. We tend to start working together but then retreat into our isolations for various reasons. If we collaborate rather than compete, if we cooperate and consolidate, we'll magnify everything.
The world is growing more complicated with shrinking spaces due to foreign relations, visa restrictions, currency issues, and more. But let's simplify these complexities by unifying what we can do together—making projects simple, proposals simple, objectives simple, outcomes simple. Once we have everything aligned, as I always say, the uniformity of outcomes would be magnificent.
Is that also a final word about your hopes for the education field in the next decade?
Education has to steer. Education has to come to the forefront—it doesn't have to wait for a crisis to hit. Education needs to be proactive. All stakeholders in education—think tanks, funders, donors, economists, scientists—they all originate from education, right? So education has to take charge of the world itself.
Our world is not safe, not inclusive, not equitable by any measure. We are fragmented. How do we connect all these pieces? Education is the only connecting link that is neutral yet powerful.
So I would say: get together, get in shape, get in line. Make sure we have uniformity of outcomes, and everything will improve if education is connected.