Jumoke Kolawole is the founder of Jumokecares Foundation and Help to the Ageing Foundation (HAF). Driven by her deep love for impact in over two decades, both organisations have been providing welfare support, empowerment to women in need, children deserving a future filled with hope, and healthcare services to deprived elderly individuals across various communities. Kolawole remains dedicated to transforming stories of hardship into ones of hope, dignity, and renewal. In this interview, she speaks on her commitment to changing the narrative for others.

What was the inspiration behind HAF and what motivated you to extend your mission through Jumokecares Foundation?

Help to the Ageing Foundation (HAF) was established in 2004, born out of my deep love for the elderly. For over two decades, HAF has provided welfare support, empowerment, and healthcare services to deprived elderly individuals across various communities. This foundation reflects my long-standing passion for ensuring that older adults live with dignity and care. In 2019, after 15 years of supporting elderly people through HAF, I felt an even deeper calling, one that wasn’t just about giving, but about sharing my own story. I have walked the painful road of struggle, making impossible choices between basic needs, and longing for opportunities that always felt just out of reach. I knew there were countless others, especially women and children, facing the same hardships I once did. And I couldn’t let them walk that path alone. This realisation gave birth to the Jumokecares Foundation, an extension of my heart and lived experiences. Through this foundation, I provide support, relief, and empowerment to women like me, women who just need a chance, and to children who deserve a future filled with hope. While HAF reflects my core passion for supporting the elderly, Jumokecares Foundation represents my own life’s journey, growing up in difficult circumstances and striving to create a different reality for others. Every programme and initiative we launch is rooted in my personal story and a desire to ensure that others don’t have to face the same struggles.

What personal experiences shaped your passion for service?

At some point growing up, I experienced what it meant to go without, without food, without basic needs, without opportunities. I lived through some moments where survival felt like a daily achievement, where choosing between clothes and a meal wasn’t hypothetical, it was real. Those moments didn’t just pass through me; they shaped me. I was raised in an environment where hardship was familiar, and even in those though times, I saw how a single act of kindness could restore dignity and spark hope. That stayed with me. So, when I was finally in a position to help, even in the smallest way, I made a vow to show up for others the way I once wished someone had shown up for me. My passion for service is deeply personal. It’s not driven by obligation or image, it’s driven by memory, by empathy, and by a burning desire to rewrite the story for others still stuck where I once was. That’s why giving back isn’t something I do, it’s who I am.

Running a nonprofit for 20+ years is no small feat. How have you managed to fund and sustain your initiatives all these years?

It hasn’t been all smooth, and honestly, that’s what makes the journey sacred to me. I didn’t start with a grant or corporate sponsorship. I began with what I had: my pocket money, a portion of my salary, my savings, and income from my small business. I remember using my mother’s food cooler for our very first empowerment programme, just so Baba Abu could sell pure water with dignity instead of hawking. I’ve never waited for perfect conditions or a major sponsor to take the first step. I once dry-cleaned my late father’s used clothes to clothe Baba Tonto, an elderly man with nothing decent to wear. I’ve cut back on my allowance to buy food for others, taken items on credit to run outreaches, and even took a loan from work, something many would consider unwise, but to me, it was a necessary sacrifice. I chose to walk by faith and fund my passion from my earnings, even when it meant letting go of personal comforts. Along the way, I’ve been blessed with family, friends, volunteers, and a few nonprofit collaborators who believed in the mission and stood with me. But at the core, the engine has always been my paycheck and my purpose. It hasn’t been easy, but knowing lives are being changed, dignity is being restored, and futures are being shaped makes every sacrifice worth it. This was never about doing what looked smart, it was about doing what felt right. I’ve deprived myself time and time again because I believe someone else’s comfort, dignity, or survival is worth the cost. That’s how I’ve sustained it: with heart, grit, and an unshakable belief that impact doesn’t wait for perfect conditions. And my mantra has always been: “Until support shows up, I’ll keep showing up.”

There’s a common perception that nonprofits are primarily income-generating ventures. What’s your perspective, especially as someone who has largely self-funded their work?

That perception has been one of the hardest battles to fight, not just publicly, but sometimes internally, when the sacrifices feel overwhelming. There’s a widespread assumption, especially in communities like mine, that running a nonprofit is a shortcut to wealth. But I am living proof that this isn’t always the case. For over 20 years, I have self-funded this work, not for recognition, not for profit, but out of a deep, personal calling. Every outreach, every programme has come at a cost, my cost. From my paycheck, my savings, and even personal loans. I’ve had to choose passion over comfort, purpose over profit, time and time again. This work isn’t about income; it’s about impact. It’s about standing in the gap for people who have no safety nets. And while some may exploit the nonprofit space, I want my story to be a loud, clear counter-narrative, that it is possible to serve with integrity, to give without expecting to gain, and to lead with heart, not with greed. So yes, there are perceptions, but I believe lived truth is stronger than assumption. And mine is this: I have paid the price to see lives transformed, not my bank account. And until support shows up, I will keep showing up.

What does it mean to you to run a foundation powered mostly by your paycheck? How has that shaped your leadership, priorities, and personal sacrifices?

Running a foundation powered mostly by my paycheck is more than commitment, it’s a covenant. It means every programme we run is a piece of me, every outreach a reflection of personal sacrifice. It’s shaped my leadership to be deeply empathetic, intentional, and hands-on. I don’t just plan, I feel, I give, I stretch. It’s taught me to prioritise impact over applause, and purpose over comfort. The sacrifices have been real, but so is the fulfillment of knowing lives are being touched, because I chose to show up, even when it cost me.

Despite limited funding, your foundations have launched impactful programmes from pad drives to pop-up pantries. How do you stay consistent?

Consistency, for me, comes from conviction not convenience. I don’t show up because I have everything I need; I show up because someone else doesn’t. That’s what fuels me. Even with limited funding, I’ve learned that heart, creativity, and a deep sense of purpose can stretch a little a long way. We plan within our means, adapt when we must, and maximise every resource often recycling, borrowing, or leaning on volunteers. But above all, we stay consistent because the needs don’t pause, and neither can we. This work is deeply personal, and I’ve made peace with doing what I can, with what I have, until more support comes. And it always does, in one form or another.

You’ve built all this without government or corporate grants. Are you open to partnerships, collaborations, or funding opportunities now?

Absolutely, we are more than open. For over two decades, I’ve poured my heart, time, and personal resources into building these foundations, not because it was easy, but because the need was undeniable. Every outreach, every care package, every life touched has been fueled by conviction, sacrifice, and the simple belief that someone had to show up, even if no one else did. But to grow, to reach more people, and to deepen our impact, we cannot walk this road alone. That’s why we’re calling on well-meaning individuals, corporate organisations, and those who believe in meaningful action to join us. We welcome partnerships, collaborations, and funding opportunities with open arms. If you’ve ever wondered where your support could truly make a difference, we are a cause worth standing behind. We’re not waiting for perfect conditions; we’ve been in the trenches, doing the work. But with the right partners, we can do even more. The need is urgent, and the moment is now. This is not because I want to step back, but because I want to scale up. Our vision is growing because the needs are growing. We’ve built something real on grit and heart; now it’s time to multiply the impact. Together, we can go further, lift more lives, and create lasting change for the women, children, and elderly who need us most.

What has been the most fulfilling part of your journey so far?

There have been many unforgettable moments, but one that still brings tears to my eyes happened during an outreach to the elderly in 2014. An old man I had never met before held my hand, looked into my eyes, and said, “I thought the world had forgotten me… but you remembered.” That moment broke and healed me all at once. It reminded me that this work isn’t about grand gestures, it’s about presence. About dignity. About reminding people they still matter. Each time I see a child smile with a plate of food, a woman stands taller after receiving support, or an elderly person express gratitude for being seen, I whisper to myself, “This is why I do it.” These are the moments that make every sacrifice sacred.

What’s your message to women who have big dreams but feel limited by their financial situation?
To every woman with big dreams but limited means, I see you, and I’ve been you. I started with nothing but a burning desire to help, using my pocket money, my salary, and even borrowed resources to fund a vision bigger than me. Don’t wait for perfect conditions, start with what you have. Your passion, your story, your voice, they are powerful tools. You don’t need wealth to make impact; you need willingness, faith, and resilience. Every small step you take in obedience to that inner calling will open doors you didn’t know existed. You are not too broke to begin. You are not too ordinary to make a difference. Start where you are, use what you have, and trust that provision often follows purpose. Keep showing up, because your dream is valid, and your impact is needed.

What’s next for Jumokecares and HAF? What do you still dream of doing?

What’s next is growth, with greater reach, deeper impact, and broader collaboration. For Jumokecares, I dream of building a resource and empowerment center where women and children can access not just aid, but skills, mentorship, education, and healing, and a fully stocked community food bank that ensures no child goes to bed hungry, A place where broken stories are rewritten into powerful legacies. For HAF, my heart is set on developing a mobile care programme that brings healthcare, companionship, and dignity directly to elderly people in underserved communities, especially those too frail to seek help. I still dream of seeing our work expand beyond borders, powered by partners, sustained by grants, and strengthened by global support. We’ve come this far by grit and grace, but we’re ready to soar. My ultimate dream is to leave behind systems of love, dignity, and sustainability that will outlive me.