What I Learned Coordinating a Gender-Lens Investing Program for the IFC

From 2022 to 2024, I served as Program Coordinator for Invest2Equal, an initiative created by the International Finance Corporation (IFC) — the private sector arm of the World Bank Group — in partnership with the Women Entrepreneurs Finance Initiative (We-Fi). The program brought together 16 private equity and venture capital fund managers operating in emerging markets, from Southeast Asia to Eastern Europe to the Middle East, and asked them to do something deceptively simple: make specific, measurable, time-bound commitments to advance gender equality. In their own firms. In their portfolios. On the record.

The final case study publication — which I researched and wrote — came out in late 2024. But the lessons I carried out of that program are ones I'm still thinking about.

The numbers that made the ask urgent

Before you can convince anyone to change, you have to make them understand the scale of what isn't working.

In emerging markets, women hold just 11 percent of senior investment positions in private equity and venture capital firms. Only 7 percent of female entrepreneurs in those markets receive equity investment capital. These aren't fringe statistics — they represent a structural failure that plays out in boardrooms, term sheets, and hiring panels every single day.

The counterargument to inaction is equally clear. IFC research found that fund managers with gender-balanced investment teams — where women hold 30 to 70 percent of leadership roles — generate returns up to 20 percent higher. Portfolio companies with gender-balanced leadership carry valuations 25 percent greater than those without. Limited partners, when surveyed, said they were willing to allocate twice as much capital to firms with greater gender diversity.

This is not a values argument. It is a performance argument. And yet the gap persists.

What the program actually did

Invest2Equal wasn't a pledge drive. The 16 fund managers who participated — collectively managing over $18 billion in assets — spent 18 months in structured peer learning, one-on-one expert mentoring, policy reviews, and accountability check-ins. By the program's end, they had made 62 concrete commitments.

What did that look like in practice? A few things struck me.

Horizon Capital, a private equity firm backing entrepreneurs in Ukraine and Moldova, built a dedicated People Advisory team that supported its portfolio companies in executive searches. Over three years, that team helped hire 47 executives — 50 percent of them women. They didn't wait for the pipeline to materialize; they built the pipeline.

AC Ventures in Indonesia took a different route, making gender representation a competitive differentiator. When they joined the program, women already made up 50 percent of their senior leadership. By articulating that as a strategic asset — not just an HR metric — they attracted more capital and gained access to a stronger pipeline of female founders. Today, 40 percent of their portfolio companies are owned or founded by women.

Navis Capital Partners in Southeast Asia focused inward first. They trained their entire team of over 100 professionals to recognize and counter unconscious bias, then built out parental leave, anti-harassment, and flexible work policies. Within six months of piloting those practices with a cohort of portfolio companies, the companies reported measurable progress — including appointing dedicated internal champions to sustain the work.

Mediterra Capital, headquartered in Istanbul, took on one of the hardest topics: sexual harassment in portfolio companies spread across more than ten countries, each with different legal frameworks and cultural norms. Their approach was to organize workshops for HR managers at investee companies, help them understand local legal landscapes, and build enforceable policies. Two of those portfolio companies subsequently earned 'Great Place to Work' certifications.

India Alternatives, based in Mumbai, set a target that at least one-third of its portfolio companies be owned or led by women, and that women sit on at least half of its investees' boards. They surpassed both goals. Their CEO, Shivani Bhasin Sachdeva, put it simply: women control 60 to 80 percent of consumption decisions in India, representing a $1.5 trillion market opportunity. The gender lens wasn't separate from the investment thesis — it was the investment thesis.

What I took away

Coordinating a program like this across 16 firms, multiple time zones, and a range of organizational cultures taught me a few things I didn't expect.

The biggest barrier to change is rarely ideology. Most of the resistance I encountered wasn't from people who opposed gender equality in principle — it was from people who didn't know where to start, or who feared that changing their processes would mean lowering their standards. Peer learning dissolved that anxiety faster than any top-down mandate could. When a fund manager from Southeast Asia described how they restructured their hiring panel and saw their deal flow improve, the fund manager from Eastern Europe in the next session started asking questions instead of objections.

Data is the permission structure. What I saw repeatedly was that once firms started collecting sex-disaggregated data — on their own teams, on their portfolio companies — the conversation shifted. You can't argue with the gap when the gap is visible. And when you start measuring progress, the progress accelerates.

The hard work happens between the sessions. The peer learning events were valuable, but the actual change happened in the months in between, when a fund manager had to sit down with their HR lead, rewrite a policy, and decide whether to make it public. That's where commitment becomes culture.

Why this work shaped what came next

I've held passports from countries I've never lived in. I've consulted for the World Bank, and built products aimed at a region I understand from the inside. The through line across all of it — the journalism, the consulting, the platform-building — is the same question: who gets access, and on what terms?

Invest2Equal sharpened my understanding of how capital moves, and how intentional design can redirect it. Those fund managers didn't transform their firms because they were told to. They transformed because they were given evidence, community, and structured support — and then held accountable for the commitments they made publicly.

That's not so different from what I'm trying to build with LagomPlan: a platform that gives discerning Latin American travelers the infrastructure to make choices that reflect their values and their sophistication. Different sector, same logic.

The full case study publication — Fund Managers Advancing Gender Equality in Private Equity and Venture Capital: Lessons Learned from IFC's Invest2Equal Program — is available on the IFC website. It contains the detailed stories of five of the 16 participating fund managers, and their recommendations for anyone looking to begin this work.

If you're building something in the gender-lens investing space — or simply curious about what institutional change actually looks like from the inside — I'd love to talk.

Road to Growth

Giving women the chance to become financially independent and make the most of their talents is the key to higher living standards and stronger economies.
— Cherie Blair, Founder

For the past six months, I have been managing one of the most challenging projects of my life: Road to Growth Mexico, a Cherie Blair Foundation for Women program. 

The program uses the latest technology to develop the business skills of women entrepreneurs in emerging markets. We are currently implementing a two-phased program for 500 women entrepreneurs in Mexico that will support them in growing sustainable businesses and have a positive impact in their communities.

One of the most important parts of this project was the Call for Applications which took place between October and November 2017. 

The response of both the media and potential candidates was overwhelmingly positive.

We got published in some of the main Mexican Newspapers, such as Forbes, Entrepreneur, Chilango, and even the cover of MásporMás

We also conducted several Facebook Lives with institutions like Público CoWorking, where we discussed the importance of programs like Road to Growth in the Mexican entrepreneurial ecosystem and the gender gap. 

By the end of November 2017, we received over 2000 applications. 

For the past 10 years, I have always been on the other side of the media: making interviews, conducting research and finding relevant topics to publish for several magazines and newspapers. 

This was the first time I was the one being mediatized, and it gave me a different perspective of how the publishing processes look like nowadays. 

Some of my main conclusions of this experience were:

  • video and digital content are more present than ever in all types of media,
  • female empowerment is a trending topic in Mexico, and in other important economies of the world,
  • women entrepreneurs are looking for training opportunities, such as Road to Growth.

The inauguration event and actual implementation of the courses are taking place in a couple of weeks. At this point, I am particularly excited for the opportunity to utilize my education and professional experiences to create a meaningful social impact in the world.

Even if it's only 500 women, it's 500 communities that are changing... and this is just the begnining. 

Ready, set, GO!

La injusticia está en casa

Me atrapó la gripe durante las vacaciones de Semana Santa así que me quedé trabajando en casa ayer. Por primera vez en mucho tiempo coincidí con las señoras de limpieza que vienen cada martes a ‘limpiarle a la princesa’.

Abrí los ojos — empapada en sudor y con el cuerpo cortado — cuando escuché la puerta que truena fuertísimo, curiosamente, sólo cuando hace frío. Ahí recordé que era martes, el día en el que vienen las tres hermanas que se turnan entre ellas y que han trabajado con nuestra familia desde hace más de 10 años. Eran como las 10:30 de la mañana.

Cada martes, antes de salir al trabajo, dejo un billete de $500 pesos en la mesa del comedor y, cuando regreso, el departamento está absolutamente inmaculado. Lavan mis platos, mis sábanas, mi ropa, mis baños, planchan, aspiran y sacuden a profundidad detrás de las cortinas y hasta en lugares a los que yo nunca me he dignado a asomar, entre muchas cosas más.

Hasta ayer no me había enterado que Mari trabaja — junto a su hermana quien viene a ayudarle de vez en cuando, cosa de la que tampoco estaba enterada — alrededor de siete horas para limpiar mi departamento de dos cuartos de la Condesa (siempre pensé que eran como 3–4). Tampoco sabía que les tomaba alrededor de dos horas llegar hasta acá, ni que a la otra hermana, quien fue la que comenzó a trabajar con nuestra familia hace más de 10 años, le acaban de diagnosticar una diabetes severa.

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Me puse a sacar cuentas, de cuánto gano y en qué me gasto mi plata, de cuánto le pagaba a la señora que me ayudaba con la limpieza mientras estudiaba mi maestría en California ($50 dólares por un par de horas), de cuánto necesitas para vivir en esta ciudad... En ese mismo hilo de ideas recordé que cada vez que, por alguna razón, mencionaba cuánto les pagaba por un día de trabajo en alguna plática, mis amigos bromeaban en que querían venir a trabajar para mí.

Les pregunté a algunos amigos y todos respondieron de buena fe:

“Yo le pago 400 por 5 horas”

“Yo $350 y sentí que le estaba pagando poco así que le pago el IMSS”

“Yo le pago $500 por 6 horas pero si sientes que es poco y le puedes dar más, dale más

En la oficina nos quejamos de que no nos suben ni la inflación. Nos quejamos de que aunque superes tus objetivos no se refleja en tu sueldo. Nos quejamos de que los gerentes ganan infinitamente más — y a veces trabajan menos.

(Cabe mencionar que siempre me quejo del sistema en el que vivimos, de las desigualdades, de la corrupción… a gran y pequeña escala; que vivo constantemente frustrada por no poder cambiar el status quo).

Estúpidamente, todo este tiempo pensé que pagarles 500 pesos al día sería muchísimo más que suficiente. Ni siquiera me había cuestionado el valor de su trabajo para mi. ¿A ellas quién les sube la inflación? ¿Quién revisa si están cumpliendo con sus objetivos? ¿Quién le puso este precio a un trabajo tan desgastante?

Tomando en cuenta que el salario mínimo en México es de 80 pesos al día, podría pensar que le estoy pagando una fortuna a estas señoras que se ocupan de limpiar, literalmente, toda mi mierda.

Pero no. No es mucho, ni siquiera es suficiente para sobrevivir con dignidad.

Repite, Pili, y léelo una y otra vez:

“La injusticia del sistema no debe volverte ajena a realidades diarias, las desigualdades extremas no deben convertirse en la norma, el hecho de vivir en estados fallidos no significa que debas jugar el juego”.

La frustración no es excusa. Así que, para no hacer largo el cuento, si puedo ayudar un poco más, ayudaré un poco más.

No quiero seguir cegándome: la maldita injusticia de la que tanto nos quejamos también está en casa.

Reinventar la educación tradicional

El control del conocimiento ha sido una activa fuente de poder desde el principio de nuestras civilizaciones. De regímenes militares a escuelas Montessori, los modelos educativos han evolucionado constantemente en busca del balance perfecto.

Ya estamos en 2017, ¿será que ya lo encontramos?

Crecí en ocho países distintos. Mi trayecto académico arrancó con educación de kínder panameña y suiza, se rigió durante muchos (17) años sobre los pilares franceses (con toques colombianos y venezolanos) y terminó con una maestría californiana. En casa, los valores provenían de la idiosincrasia guatemalteca. Hoy en día, diseño contenidos educativos para emprendedores en la Ciudad de México. Educación pública, educación privada, educación en línea, educación bilingüe, educación intercultural… ¿Aprendí algo? Pienso que sí: hablo un par de idiomas correctamente, considero que me enseñaron a cuestionar lo importante y me gusta creer que soy una persona relativamente pensante.

Por otro lado, a pesar de haber sido extremadamente afortunada — y de haber estudiado harto — , hay muchas cosas que nunca aprendí (¡o que nunca me enseñaron!).

No me enseñaron a negociar las prestaciones de mi primer trabajo, a tomar la palabra en una sala llena de hombres o incluso a algo tan básico como llevar mis finanzas personales.

¿Mis insights? Las mismas fallas y la misma frustración por todos lados: accesibilidad limitada, modelos y contenidos anticuados, poca apropiación de herramientas tecnológicas y falta de empoderamiento para los estudiantes.

Además, la estructura rígida y los exámenes estandarizados no parecen encajar con los millennials, la generación que quiere disponer de su propio tiempo — Sir Ken Robinson estudia brillantemente estos paradigmas educativos en su TED Talk.

 

Lo que realmente fue un parteaguas en la historia del acceso a la información fue el mágico mundo de internet. Actualmente, puedes aprender lo que quieras, en el idioma que quieras, a la hora que quieras, desde donde quieras — y, prácticamente, al precio que quieras.

Sin embargo, yo tomé varias clases en Coursera (desde literatura medieval hasta marketing digital)… y no terminé ninguna. ¿Qué me hizo falta? ¿Ganas? ¿Tiempo? ¿Disciplina?

Aparentemente, lo que hizo falta fue un modelo más integrado ya que, según el estudio de MIT-Harvard MOOC (Massive Online Open Courses), ¡únicamente el 4% de los inscritos completa los cursos en línea de estas universidades Ivy League! En Coursera, las cifras son similares (alrededor del 7%).

Reinventar los modelos tradicionales de educación ya no es opcional — y la educación 100% en línea no parece ser la respuesta.

Personalmente, pienso que hay que democratizar la educación, comenzar a satisfacer las necesidades del siglo XXI, apropiarse de las herramientas tecnológicas que tenemos a nuestro alcance y darle muchísima más importancia a la inteligencia emocional.

¿Cómo? Con modelos innovadores que mezclen lo mejor de ambos mundos (el digital y el presencial).

Good Will Hunting

A Social Enterprise conference at Harvard was the excuse to go visit my old friend from Mexico City in Cambridge.
Some friends from the MSSE program were also joining, so we thought it could be a good team-building experience –and it was.

Catching up with my friend over games, cheese and wine made me remember how happy our years in DF were –Gael García Bernal's new show, Mozart in the Jungle, has also been giving me some pretty good flashbacks. I was staying on her couch, and sharing good experiences with her two MIT roommates. 

Food was amazing during the whole weekend: Orinoco with a bright British-Australian, my beloved Shake Shack for bad hangovers, and lots of laughters over snacks –my personal favorite. 

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The whole weekend was full of references to previous lives. Happy previous lives. 

One of the roomies was a super shy but charming guy.
He made me remember how important playing is. 

The overall conference experience was a bit underwhelming. Panels were interesting, but nothing was life-changing. Conversations with many Harvard and MIT people –intimidating institutions– were as shallow and as deep as the ones I have with the rest of the humans I have met from UNAM, Sorbonne, Los Andes, Community Colleges –or autodidacts.  

This quick trip was a reminder of my abilities to adapt, to network, and to be happy in very different environments. I genuinely think I have created some kind of new comfort zone for myself.
I feel fulfilled. 

Un hogar inventado

La hija de unos buenos amigos de mis padres se casó en Bogotá el fin de semana pasado.

Usé el parrandón como excusa para visitar a mis amigos de adolescencia –a los cuales no veía desde hacía ya un par de años.

Fue un fin de semana de sentimientos encontrados.

La fiesta fue un flashback a mi prom –hace ya diez años: la misma música, el mismo (ex) novio, la misma borrachera, la misma decepción en los ojos de mis padres y el mismo desagradable guayabo matutino. 

Colombia se sintió tan normal; la amanecida viendo a la montaña, los edificios de ladrillo, el ajiaco casero, la caminata por el Virrey, la desayunada en Crepes y la infalible pizza de Jeno's para ver los Oscars. Una rutina inventada, aunque no necesariamente olvidada. 

Durante este viaje también me enteré de un horrible suceso: el novio de una gran amiga, de esas que son como hermanas, tiene un maldito cáncer.
Es un tipo de mi edad. Un tipo deportista y saludable. Un tipo con ganas de vivir intensamente.

Lo primero que vino a mi mente fue el por qué estuve tan ausente durante este trágico proceso. Son estos los momentos en los que los amigos se necesitan. Y me sentí culpable, distante y ajena. 

Luego pensé en la muerte, y en mi miedo irracional a envejecer, a cumplir un año más, a arrugarme, a no tener tiempo de hacerlo todo y de comerme al mundo. 

Finalmente reflexioné sobre la relatividad de lo material, sobre las celebridades a las que esta agresiva enfermedad se las ha llevado en un parpadeo. En Jobs, en Borges, en Bowie. 

Afirmé que no quiero llegar al final de mis días "habiendo cometido el peor de los pecados: no ser feliz". 

Mi tren de pensamiento, la nostalgia y la incertidumbre me llevaron a Starman, y me cuestioné si Bowie habría sido influenciado por Saint-Exupéry. 

En fin, muchas emociones y reflexiones entre un par de aviones.  

Regresemos. 

"You'll never forget how to ride a bicycle"

Everyone says you never forget how to do some things.

Skiing seems to be one of those things.

I do not remember growing up in Vevey, Switzerland, and going skiing every single weekend to Portes du Soleil –border with France.
Nevertheless, my parents say I learned how to walk on the snow, on one of those weekends that always ended with fondue and wine in a warm chalet.

Over twenty years later, here I am, facing a black piste.
Can I do it?
I'm not completely sure about this.

To have some context, I've probably skied ten times as an adult, usually accompanied by my quite apprehensive family. 

So here we are, with a group of new Californian friends, in beautiful Squaw, Lake Tahoe. 

 

I'm not going to lie; I got pretty scared when I saw the steepness of the trail #nomorefilming

I guess you just have to face your fears.
And that's exactly what I did.
I adopted the `slow but safe´ philosophy -and jumped in. 

Day 1 (first):
Played too hard, like a child.
Fell once, on the snow –flew like a ninja.
Felt quite embarrassed –but it was actually pretty fun.

Day 2 (last):
Quite hungover and swore from Day 1.
Every muscle of my body hurts. 
Had to be more gentle with myself. 

Takeaways:

  • I'm not as young and fearless as I used to be: every action has consequences, and my body is not as strong as it was the last time I skied –a couple of years ago
  • Skiing at least once a year is a new personal resolution: I genuinely enjoy it
  • I'm learning a lot from my new Californian friends, they all have different backgrounds and perspectives
  • My parents were right since the beginning: the best way to end a ski day is with cheese and wine