Saving lives as a banker

Interview with Carl Manlan

His path - from a doctor’s son in Côte d’Ivoire - to global impact leader reveals how empathy, faith, and courage can transform lives.

Some life journeys remind us how vision can rise from hardship. Carl’s is one of them. Born in Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire - a city of sharp contrasts - he rose to lead social impact programmes across 33 African markets, shaping a more inclusive future for millions. He went on to serve as Vice President for Inclusive Impact and Sustainability at Visa in the CEMEA region, educating thousands of consumers and businesses about future-proof financial decisions. Having far exceeded his own expectations, he relentlessly continues unlocking Africa’s human potential.

When we meet, Carl is in a period of deep reflection. He shares how his father’s sudden loss 24 years ago forced him to see the world with different eyes. A powerful lens that - to this day - enables him to turn grief into energy for impact. The event also led him to take a stance for transformative relationships rather than transactional. Rooted in faith and with disciplined patience, Carl now sees world cycles turning, doing his part in laying the building blocks for his children’s generation.

Early footsteps

Carl’s primary school was close to the hospital where his parents worked. His father a gastroenterologist, his mother a nurse. “Every day at lunchtime, I waited in the car park for them to finish. They were often delayed because of emergencies. I hated waiting, but looking back, those moments shaped me. They made me wonder: how do you save lives, prevent death, respond to loss?”

He laughs recalling the day he realised medicine wasn’t for him. “I once watched my father perform an endoscopy and immediately knew I’d never be able to do that. We never talked about it afterwards, but both understood medicine wasn’t my path.”

Still, he never forgot his mother’s version of success. “She wanted me to become a banker, which I couldn’t understand back then. Growing up in the 1980s, all anyone talked about was HIV. People were dying while the epidemic continued. I told her, ‘If that’s all I’m hearing and seeing, how do you expect me to become a banker?’” Today, he smiles with understanding. “For her generation, having a profession meant living better. Two uncles were bankers. She simply wanted that stability for me.”

Looking back, Carl admits he had no clear vision for himself as a teenager. “There was no internet, no career guidance, only my teachers and what I saw around me. My horizon was limited, so I lived by my mother’s definition of success.” He attended public school until a scholarship allowed him four years in a private one, then returned to public education until the end of his first year at the University of Abidjan. He transitioned to Harare - Zimbabwe, for a year, to prepare for the world. After that he entered the University of Cape Town to study Finance, before switching to Politics, Philosophy and Economics, which better matched his personality and talents.

Lessons from his father’s path

Then, at 22, tragedy struck. Carl’s father, who was serving as World Health Organization (WHO) representative in Burundi, was murdered while on his mission to save lives. “At that moment, my world collapsed,” Carl says quietly. “Not only did I lose my father, many of those I thought were family friends disappeared. I later realised they were connected to my father because he had something to offer them, which I couldn’t.” That experience changed how Carl saw the world.

“It taught me to view life through the lens of transactions and seasons, with people coming and going.”

It’s a harsh lesson to learn – especially early in life. But it became the foundation of his belief in transformational relationships: those built on purpose and trust. It was also his first glimpse into the complex world of health aid financing. Not knowing that years later he would be instrumental in ensuring fair allocation of such funds to fight epidemics across Africa. Helping to correct the very systems that once failed his father.

Following invisible guidance

While his parents laid the foundation, Carl’s path was illuminated by the kindness of others. He refers to them as the good Samaritans who recognised his potential and supported creating perspective. The first arrived soon after the tragic fate of his father.

One of his father’s former colleagues offered him an internship at the WHO headquarters in Geneva. Carl saw it as destiny. “I started at the headquarters my father never reached - continuing his legacy.”

While at WHO in 2004, he met Dr. Andrew Cassels, who had helped set up the Global Fund. This non-profit organisation invests billions annually to combat the world’s deadliest diseases. Andrew introduced him to Brad Herbert, then the Fund’s Chief of Operations, who offered Carl a position focused on malaria treatment.

That same year, The Lancet published an article accusing the Global Fund of medical malpractice by continuing to fund ineffective malaria treatments. Again, he was faced with a shadow side of financial aid practices. “My job was to review all malaria projects funded between 2002 and 2004, analysing drug use and pricing. Suddenly, I was inside the pharmaceutical ecosystem, witnessing the politics behind health financing. I had grown up observing the clinical side; now I saw the business, the scale, the money. It was eye-opening.”

In November that year, another mentor appeared: Linden Morrison from Guyana. “He told me, ‘You need to go to Harvard Kennedy School (HKS).’ Without him, I would never have considered it.” HKS is one of the world’s most prestigious schools for public policy, governance, and leadership with alumni including heads of state, ministers, diplomats, and social innovators. “Coming from Abidjan, having studied in South Africa, working in Geneva – that already felt like success. But Linden said, “You can be in that league.” From then on, that became my goal. I gave myself seven years to arrive at this school.”

Faith tested in conflict

The admission to HKS didn’t come easily. Carl strongly felt that doing work in post-conflict areas would be a testimony to his character and commitment to public service – which are among the school’s selection criteria. “In 2007, I went to Kinshasa, even though I was on another track for a UN post. There, I became part of a leadership team overseeing a $500 million budget to support HIV, tuberculosis and malaria programs. My mother was terrified; my father had been killed while doing such work in Burundi when the land was in turmoil. I told her, “I have to go there, though I can’t explain why.” It was a difficult year – post-conflict, intense pressure – but rich in lessons.”

Exactly seven years later, while in Haiti, Carl received his admission letter. “I called my wife in tears, then called Linden: ‘Your dream came true.’” Carl believes that year in Kinshasa gave him his ticket to Harvard. “I can only be grateful.” Graduating from Harvard marked a turning point in his career, preparing him for one influential role after the other.  

When his mother passed away in 2015, he had already worked with the Global Fund, the United Nations, the University of Cape Town and the African Union. Soon after, he joined Ecobank. “Even after you die,” he says tenderly, “your dream of me working in a bank materialises.”

Faith is the light you see when everything is dark

In his years working across developing regions, Carl has seen immense hardship. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever see a world with less tension around climate, equality and corporate responsibility,” he admits. But pragmatism wins:

“If the world moves in cycles and we’re at the bottom of one, there’s only one way to go: up. What matters is having the patience to see the cycle turn - and doing what’s within our control to lay the building blocks for others to continue the cycle.”

So, what are those building blocks for Carl? He doesn’t hesitate. “Even though I didn’t become a doctor, my work has always been about saving lives, uplifting others, creating social impact. That’s my DNA.” Then, more poetic: “It’s the transmission that continues to give. Etymologically, it is giving a mission. This is what my parents did, and I intend to carry it forward with my children and their generation.

Creating cycles of change

In his last role at Visa, his work focused on financial education. A subject he believes is ultimately about positive change: “shaping the future”.

“Without the ability to project ourselves into the future, financial education is meaningless.”

According to Carl, consumers and organisations must understand the principle of delayed gratification: making choices today that benefit our communities tomorrow. When we embed that principle into investments such as advertising, social media and technology, we create legacies: safeguarding our resources - financial, environmental, and human - for generations to come.”

While Carl focussed on driving change, Visa had an adjustment in store for him personally. Last September his position was terminated. It’s the first time in his career that his exit was formally governed. Yet there is no trace of bitterness, only acceptance and courage.

“Sometimes you choose to get off the bus; sometimes you’re shown where to get off. Either way, it’s fine. You’ve reached your destination.”

Now, standing at that stop and reflecting, Carl speaks with calm detachment about his previous role. “Although many companies make you feel part of something bigger, ultimately our participation in the workforce is a transaction. By definition, a job is temporary. My time at Visa was valuable, but I see this departure as a gift: the chance to spend more time with my wife and kids.”

When Carl learned about his job loss at Visa, he immediately made a list of ten people to call - and reached every one of them. “They all called back,” he smiles. “I pride myself on not having transactional relationships. I don’t want my children to think that’s how the world works. You must invest in relationships. Not for what you can get, but because we all belong to ecosystems built on trust and connection.”

Perspective in motion

Whenever Carl needs space to think, he rises before dawn to walk for hours, a ritual inherited from his father. “When I was a teenager, my father used to wake me at five in the morning to walk. I hated it then, but now I understand. During those walks, he taught me endurance, perseverance, and how to listen.” As if his father knew that his time to pass on wisdom was limited.

“To this day, when I need space, I walk. I reconnect with the world. Watching people wake up, seeing the rubbish collectors at work. It grounds me.”

Carl continues sharing lessons with his children – not during early walks – but in a 2025-resistant version. Together with his daughter Claire he hosts a podcast called Inside the Blueprint. They invite inspirational guests and have conversations that matter across generations, across experiences, and across the ideas shaping our world. As such, not only his children learn, but anyone interested can on YouTube.

Your gifts for the next generation

Carl is deeply committed to creating opportunities for those who live on this planet after he’s gone. “Every generation has a responsibility to the next. My parents did that for me. I try to do it through education. By showing that you can grow up in Abidjan, attend public schools, and still reach places no one expects you to go.” He pauses, then adds: “When I was young, I couldn’t imagine this life. Not because I lacked ambition, but because the path wasn’t visible.”

Then he shares one of his guiding philosophies: “Every leader must understand: it’s not about you. You’re given your gifts for others. Once you grasp that, you stop worrying. Live a life of abundance. Not in money, but in believing you already have what’s needed - to do what you’re meant to – for others or for the world.”

Carrying the light forward

As Carl reflects on all that has shaped him: loss and love, faith and patience, the cycles of challenge and renewal, he no longer sees his story as a series of separate chapters. Each experience, he says, has been a preparation for what comes next. When asked what’s next, he smiles. “I don’t know. I just know my contribution to society isn’t over. My book will be published. My focus is on making the most of this time.”

“Earlier this year, I attended a writers’ workshop called Writing Through Grief: bringing our broken-open heart to the page. I shared the story of my father’s murder. Another father spoke about losing his daughter. That moment, I realised grief is universal. Beyond race, income, or gender. You don’t understand it until you live it.” That experience became his poetry. “I see grief as the energy to continue where others have stopped. When my father died, I started at WHO, almost as if continuing where he left off. That’s faith, born out of grief.”

His upcoming poetry book, I can breathe, explores that theme. “You can live with many body parts not working, but if you can’t breathe - that’s it. From birth to death, breath is life. COVID reminded us of that. Even climate change is about our ability to keep breathing.”

He hopes to release his book on 20 November, the anniversary of his father’s death. “To change what that day means.”