By Babatunde Iyiola
When she first became a mother in the early 1990s, Babafunke Fagbemi found more than joy in her child’s birth; she discovered a calling.
“As a first-time mother, I became passionate about maternal care for women around me, especially those in disadvantaged situations,” she recalled.
That early maternal instinct, married with a deep sense of social responsibility, set her on a path that would transform how health communication works in Nigeria.
At the time, she was working as a management executive at Staywell Foundation. But instead of merely returning to work after maternity leave, she used that season to meet pregnant women at antenatal clinics, equipping them with information and support for exclusive breastfeeding.
A modest “legacy” grant from UNICEF gave her the first leg up to making a difference — and it resonated deeply with her. She knew that knowledge could save lives, but she also saw that knowledge alone was not enough.
Her understanding of the real barriers to health care took shape during a consultancy she led across all local government areas in Oyo State. It became a transmutation of pain into power that benefits society.
The team documented the harsh realities of primary health care (PHC) — facilities without water, electricity, or even beds; a maternity ward where a woman laboured on a spring bed, in a bat-infested structure.
For Babafunke, it was more than disconcerting. “I was simply horrified … I felt guilty just because I had the privilege that others did not have,” she said.
That journey left her emotionally shaken, but also galvanized her.
The transmutation of pain into power is a unique process, especially when pain, sad experiences or ugly realities are used as a trigger for such productivity that benefits generations.
Turning pain into power is neither an act of denial nor a performance of bravery. It begins with the courage to face one’s wounds exactly as they are. It means allowing the hard emotions to surface without rushing to silence them, sitting with the discomfort instead of burying it, and creating the inner space where healing is not forced but invited.
Read Also: Experts demand security overhaul in Nigeria
In that slow, honest reckoning, pain reveals its hidden curriculum—lessons, strengths, and insights waiting to be claimed. And when a person begins to draw meaning from what once broke them, the experience ceases to be merely a scar; it becomes a source of strength, a quiet engine of transformation that propels them forward with new clarity and purpose.
Out of this empathy and moral urgency grew the Centre for Communication and Social Impact (CCSI), where Babafunke now serves as Executive Director. What was once the Centre for Communication Programs Nigeria (CCPN), a Johns Hopkins-affiliated entity, has under her stewardship become a powerhouse in social and behavioural change communication across Nigeria.
Under Babafunke’s guidance, CCSI has grown in both scale and ambition. Their work spans malaria, family planning, nutrition, water and sanitation (WASH), tuberculosis, gender-based violence, governance and more.
In Rugan Hardo, a rural Fulani settlement on the outskirts of Abuja, CCSI did not just distribute mosquito nets, it helped build a solar-powered borehole and toilet facilities.
“We went in to provide mosquito nets but found that the community needs more … We are using strategic communication to improve community behaviour change,” Babafunke told stakeholders.
Her vision is clear: CCSI should “support and complement government … contributing towards attainment of its health and development priority.”
Beyond constructing infrastructure, her organisation has become a trusted technical partner, building communication strategies that reach deep into communities.
Across much of Africa, official conversations about “development” still begin and end with asphalt and concrete. Roads, bridges and gleaming structures are celebrated as proof of progress, while the deeper human foundations of growth are often overlooked. Yet the real work of building a future lies beyond physical infrastructure. It lives in people — in their skills, resilience, opportunities and dignity. This is why one of CCSI’s most profound investments is not in things, but in human beings.
Through its Leadership in Strategic Communication Workshop, held annually in collaboration with Johns Hopkins’s Center for Communication Programs, the organisation has trained hundreds of health communicators from across Nigeria and beyond. Through these trainings, Babafunke has nurtured a generation of experts who understand that changing behaviour isn’t just about telling people what to do — it’s about listening, empathising, and designing messages that respect culture, fear, and hope.
In family planning, CCSI has broken myths and built trust. In states such as Delta, Oyo, and Plateau, their work contributed to the uptake of long-acting methods – helping over 48,000 people adopt hormonal IUDs. By engaging with communities, dispelling misinformation, and using data-driven social and behaviour change approaches, they have shifted norms.
Her leadership also extends to areas often neglected in health: young first-time mothers, adolescents, and marginalized communities. In a project called PoPCare, CCSI used responsive feedback to adapt programming to the real concerns of young mothers – including spousal approval and healthcare staff attitudes.
In another evaluation study, Babafunke and her colleagues used the “most significant change” technique to document how women who once rejected modern family-planning eventually embraced implants, changing not just their own lives but the attitudes of their families.
Beyond health, CCSI under her guidance is also harnessing the power of social media and influencers. In a recent capacity-building workshop in Lagos, social media personalities were trained to champion reproductive, maternal, child, adolescent health, and gender-based violence.
Babafunke believes that influencers – with their reach and intimacy – can challenge harmful narratives and drive behaviour change in a way that traditional campaigns sometimes cannot.
“In addition, we have extended the principles of Social and Behavior Change (SBC) for thematic areas outside health in the social development space such as anti-corruption, good governance and peace and conflict resolution and also contributed to the body of work in anti-trafficking.
“CCSI has a strong media and research arm that lead and lay a solid foundation in media, design and evidence generation for all we do,” Babafunke explained, adding that CCSI’s work is centered around the role of strategic communication to impact behaviours, build brands and provide technical leadership in its field.
Her commitment to inclusive health extends even to internally displaced persons (IDP) camps. As she once said during a public appeal, “children must have access to a functional healthcare system, even in times of conflict and displacement.”
Professionally, her credentials are as solid as her passion: a Bachelor of Pharmacy from the University of Ibadan, one of Nigeria’s very best. Also, she earned a Master in Communication Arts from the same university, and an MBA from the University of Liverpool. Yet what truly marks her out is her unwavering belief that communication – not just medicine – is central to development.
Her faith, too, is a guiding force. She has been a Sunday School teacher for more than three decades. In her church in Abuja, she serves in the children’s ministry, nurturing young minds even as she works to heal the broader society. Much farther afield, she has sustained a longstanding passion for human capital development with keen belief that a society renews itself and improves generational prospects through concern for such.
Scores of positively impacted young individuals across the Nigerian federation are living attestation to her efforts.
Babafunke Fagbemi’s story is not one of dramatic highs or flashy headlines. It’s quieter – built on tens of thousands of conversations, on training hundreds of young communicators, on steady partnerships with government and community. But in a country where health systems often struggle, her vision offers something rare: sustained, systemic change through empathy and strategy.
More than that, her efforts in supporting change and driving improvement offers hope. She shows that a single woman, driven by motherhood, humility and a relentless belief in justice, can reshape how a nation thinks about health – one message, one community, one life at a time.
