It’s not every day you come across a feminist accountant; in fact, it is a rare occurrence yet for Cedrick Sokou, issues of budgeting, transparency and justifying expenditure are political matters.

 “Being an activist is all about deconstructing,” he asserts.

From what he’d observed, his fellow accountants seemed to treat accounting as an opaque matter, reserved for a select few who were supposed to master rules incomprehensible to the rest of the team. When he joined the AWDF’s feminist leadership and governance programme, he wanted to know what feminist financial management would actually look like.

It was at QET Inclusion that Cedrick cut his teeth as an accountant before becoming the administrative and financial director of the organisation. Very quickly, his colleagues naturally turned to him when they needed help or clarification. He explained procedures, supported teams with purchasing, shared management methods and tried to prevent the workload of some people from falling entirely on others.

“People felt at ease with me,” he explains.

But behind this constant availability, another reality gradually emerged: Cedrick ended up doing other people’s work for them. When a task fell behind schedule or someone encountered difficulties, he preferred to step in himself rather than risk exhausting the team or creating tensions.

“I knew that not everyone necessarily had the same level of understanding,” he says.

This approach eventually became unsustainable. In his efforts to protect others, he was no longer able to do his own work properly. He was shouldering responsibilities that weren’t always his without really knowing how to set boundaries.

The AWDF’s feminist leadership and governance programme then became an important space for reflection on his way of working. Through discussions with his coach, Cedrick gradually came to understand that helping others does not mean doing their work for them.

“The turning point for me was realising that everyone has to do their own work,” he explains.

His coach encouraged him to focus more on supporting his colleagues in their learning rather than constantly taking on their responsibilities. The aim is no longer to manage everything himself, but to enable others to become self-reliant.

This line of thinking ties in with a broader question about what he calls “feminist financial leadership”. For Cedrick, financial management should not be a closed sphere of power reserved for a select few. On the contrary, essential information regarding budgets, activities or procedures should be collectively understood by all members of the organisation.

“We often create a mystery around accounting,” he explains.

It is not a question of making all sensitive information public, such as salaries for example, but rather, enabling everyone to understand the organisation’s financial workings in broad terms: available budgets, planned activities, deadlines, or even new rules imposed by financial partners.

“Everyone needs to know, from the receptionist to the security person to the cleaner,” he asserts.

This approach becomes particularly important when working with transgender communities. Standard administrative rules, such as the requirement to present certain forms of ID to claim travel expenses, can sometimes directly exclude those affected, whose official documents do not always match their gender identity.

For Cedrick, feminist financial management specifically involves anticipating these difficulties so that no one is left behind.

“We must take into account the communities we serve,” he explains.

This desire to build more inclusive practices is not, however, without its tensions. Some people within organisations sometimes refuse to comply with collective procedures or transparency requirements.

These contradictions became particularly apparent during the internal crisis at QET Inclusion. Along with several other members of the management team, Cedrick eventually left the organisation to help set up a new organisation: Lueur d’espoir, or LUDE for short.

This departure remains deeply painful for him. What angers him most is not just the conflict itself, but the fact of encountering, within a feminist organisation, practices he associates precisely with the logic of domination that activist movements seek to combat.

“We criticise abuses of power in society,” he says, “but sometimes we reproduce the same practices within our own organisations.”

He cites, in particular, the imposition of an ad hoc committee in breach of the organisation’s statutes, threats directed at transgender people and attempts to access beneficiaries’ confidential data.

“When you’re faced with this sort of practice, it’s a total wipeout,” he explains.

This crisis nevertheless acted as a turning point in his thinking about leadership. From now on, Cedrick wants to build much more participatory decision-making spaces. For him, feminist organisations must move beyond traditional majority governance models.

“The quorum is toxic,” he asserts.

In his view, achieving a numerical majority should not automatically allow minority opinions to be steamrollered or certain proposals to be dismissed without proper discussion.

“When nine people are satisfied, you still have to reach out to the tenth,” he explains.

This focus on minority voices now shapes his approach to feminist leadership. He speaks of “constructive” leadership, capable of taking into account the real needs of those affected rather than imposing pre-determined solutions on them.

This approach is also accompanied by greater personal caution. As an LGBTQI+ person living in Côte d’Ivoire, Cedrick remains aware of the risks associated with activist engagement.

“I’m already fighting a life battle.”

Despite the many inequalities he observes in his country, he has now chosen to focus his energy on the struggles surrounding the rights and safety of LGBTQI+ people.

Activities focusing on mental health, managing burnout, artistic expression and human rights advocacy need to be developed and strengthened. For him, these spaces are essential in enabling the communities concerned to find support, comfort and the tools to keep moving forward.

When asked who are those who shaped him, he immediately mentions his mother. A woman with little formal education, he says, but one who instilled in him an acceptance of differences and a deep capacity for understanding.

“When I wanted to become a model, she didn’t shut me down,” he says.

He also mentions Carlos, whom he regards as a mentor. It was Carlos who introduced him to international issues relating to LGBTQI+ rights, regional activist movements and what he calls “intellectual leadership” within queer communities.

Through his journey, Cedrick offers an alternative way of thinking about feminist leadership: not merely as a question of representation or discourse, but as a concrete means of redistributing power, including within the administrative, financial and organisational systems that shape the daily life of activist movements.