Q: Current Role and Organization?

Achille: I serve as a Senior Program Assistant with the Humanities in Place team at the Mellon Foundation, where I support grantmaking at the intersection of culture, history, and place-keeping. I’m also a writer—with bylines in Vogue, Rolling Stone, and Africa Is a Country—focusing on Black art, diaspora, and cultural politics. Most recently, I founded and currently direct Baldwin Institute, a nonprofit dedicated to nurturing creative futures for young Black and Brown artists, scholars, and organizers.

Q: Where are you currently based?  

Achille: Brooklyn, NY 

Q: How did your time at Princeton shape your interests and career path?  

Achille: Princeton taught me how to challenge institutions with curiosity instead of cynicism. I came in as a prospective engineer and graduated as the first student in university history to earn a degree in African Studies. That didn’t happen overnight—it took knocking on unexpected doors, seeking out mentorship, and building an academic path that didn’t yet exist. One of the most transformative experiences was a PIIRS Global Seminar in Ghana, “African Cities: Their Past and Futures,” with Professor Simon Gikandi. It was the first time I traveled to Africa without family, and it fundamentally changed how I saw the continent, my relationship to it, and my place in the world. That summer became the impetus for my independent concentration and shaped the next decade of my life. As a Mellon Mays Undergraduate Fellow and a PIIRS International Fellow, I had the support to explore these questions deeply, both on and off campus. I studied abroad in France and conducted work and research in Senegal, Cameroon, and Ethiopia—all while still a student. Princeton gave me more than a degree—it gave me the confidence to excavate my own interests, name my lineage, and build a career that reflected both.

Q: What are the biggest gaps you see in your field when it comes to African representation or leadership, and how can they be addressed?

Achille: In philanthropy—especially in arts, culture, and heritage—African representation is still far too limited. Our perspectives are essential, particularly in pushing funders to understand heritage not just as preservation, but as a living tool for justice, memory, and future-making. Before joining Mellon, I had no idea what a career in grantmaking even looked like—let alone how these institutions shape entire cultural ecosystems across the globe. Some of Mellon’s recent grants—like to the Dikan Center in Ghana or the Museum of West African Art in Benin City, are helping build critical infrastructure on the continent. But these investments must be guided by people who understand the cultural terrain from the inside. I’ve lived in three African countries and visited sixteen more, and that firsthand experience has helped me offer grounding to our place-based work. But even that is not a license to speak for the continent. Too often, representation becomes homogenization. Even within African spaces, certain communities—like Cameroonians—are flattened or left out entirely. That’s part of why I launched a column in The Republic specifically focused on Cameroonian politics and culture. It was my way of creating space for nuance and resisting the pressure to be an “Africa” expert. I try to name the specificity of my knowledge, and to honor the vastness of what I don’t know. That humility, I believe, is part of what authentic leadership requires.

Q: How do you stay connected to the continent or to African-centered work in your current role?

Achille: I’m fortunate to travel frequently to Africa and to France, usually a few times a year. These trips aren’t just for work—they’re a lifeline. They keep me in close touch with artists, organizers, and institutions doing powerful work on the ground.  Beyond that, I’m a voracious reader, a seeker. I show up to conferences, exhibitions, biennales, and symposia not just to learn, but to be in community. I often say: you’re never too old to make a new friend. Those friendships keep me grounded and keep my work honest.

 Q: Are there emerging trends or innovations in your sector that you’re excited about, especially in relation to Africa’s development?  

Achille: Yes—there’s a growing recognition that heritage isn’t ornamental. It’s foundational to development. The archive, cultural memory, and narrative power are being treated less as “nice-to-haves” and more as core components of sovereignty and future-building. Art and culture can’t solve every problem, but they offer us language, imagination, and memory. They help us mourn, make meaning, and move forward. I’m excited about the rising number of African institutions, artists, and scholars who are reframing culture as infrastructure—and about funders slowly catching up.

Q. What advice would you give to current students or recent graduates who hope to make a similar impact—especially those working within or in partnership with African institutions and communities?

Achille: Relationships matter. My journey has been deeply shaped by the people who believed in me—especially within the Princeton community. Seek out mentors. Mentorship has been critical. I’ve been lucky to learn from faculty who believed in my ideas before they had form—especially Professors Chika Okeke-Agulu, Simon Gikandi, Emmanuel Kreike, and Aly Kassam-Remtulla. Be precise in how you describe your work. Avoid rushing into the role of “expert.” Expertise isn’t a title; it’s a practice. It evolves with time, with humility, and with care. I still consider myself a student of the things I claim to know. And take risks. The beauty of a Princeton degree is that it buys you room to explore. I spent my first five years post-grad on international fellowships and creative projects. I applied to law school in 2020, got in, and then decided not to go. That, too, was part of the journey. Give yourself permission to change your mind. And sometimes—it’s okay to disappoint your African parents. They mean well, but they’re not always positioned to offer the best advice for the path you’re carving. Ultimately, your life is your own.