Introducing Humans of Development: Daniel Gies

How practitioners are redefining the boundaries of financial inclusion, one onion loan at a time.

What’s one misconception about your work?

I am Daniel Gies. My background in US Army military intelligence made it easy for people to assume that I was some kind of spy.

When I went to my 20-year high school reunion, my best friend from that time said to me, “There is no way you are not a CIA agent. Working in the former Soviet Union during all the Colour revolutions? The Class of ‘86 believes that you caused all of them!”

Only my mother understood what I was doing, but was always telling people that I “help farmers in Africa with satellites and spreadsheets.” Which, oddly, isn’t completely wrong. Most people don’t realize that agricultural finance involves more Excel models than dirt.

When did you realize this was the work you wanted to do?

In my mid-20s, when I was a soldier deployed in Bosnia-Herzegovina, I was overwhelmed by the poverty and war-related destruction all around. I felt that peace was good, but that surely more could be done to get the economy and the private sector back on its feet.

And so, one day, after explaining for the thousandth time how military funding can’t be used for reconstruction, I had a mild existential crisis and Googled, “Can I save the world with an MBA degree?”

That search led me down a different path, from Eastern Europe to Afghanistan, Mali, Liberia and eventually to Rwanda, maize cooperatives, and late-night grant proposal editing sessions.

What’s one story of impact that’s stayed with you?

One event stands out in my memory from the time I was Chief of Party for the USAID Hinga Weze project in Rwanda. A farmer in eastern Rwanda stood up at a training and said, “You know, I thought that banks were only for people in suits, but now they’re helping me grow onions.”

It wasn’t just about onions. It was about access, about demystifying finance and shifting the perception of who financial systems are for. That farmer had always seen banks as institutions for others, including wealthier people, urban professionals, and the elites.

But through a mix of training, tailored blended finance products, and trust-building, he came to see banking as something that could work for him, on his land, on his terms.

That’s what I’ve really spent my career doing: redefining the boundaries of financial inclusion, one onion loan at a time.

• Helping institutions understand how to lend more intelligently.

• Helping farmers see that finance isn’t about power over them, but a tool for their own agency and growth.

In that sense, a small onion loan can be just as transformative as a multimillion-dollar investment, because it touches lives at the root level.

Working in Rwanda has deepened that understanding.

There is something beautiful and unique about a country that has rebuilt so deliberately from its past trauma. The people carry an intense clarity about hard work, about organization, about dignity, and about purpose. You see it in how they approach everything, from financial discipline to climate resilience.

And also—true story—it’s the only place I’ve ever seen a goat tied to a motorbike, wearing a reflective safety vest. That changes you.

What is something you still find hard?

Saying no to yet another Terms of Reference that I have no time to respond to. Or resisting the urge to redo someone’s Excel sheet at midnight because “I just wanted to check one formula.”

But seriously, I still struggle with delegation.

When you’ve spent years in the weeds (sometimes literally) it’s hard to let go and trust others to tend the field (or the budget) the same way. But I am working on myself and am optimistic that I will improve on this just before my retirement.

What excites you about the future of climate resilience?

African youth. Without question. I’ve met 24-year-olds running solar irrigation businesses out of shipping containers, coding farmer information apps between maize harvests, or explaining carbon markets better than me and half the bankers I work with.

That kind of ingenuity, hustle, and clarity of purpose gives me a lot more hope than any policy document ever could.

Coming back to the entrepreneur from eastern Rwanda I met at the training. He had transformed an old shipping container into a solar-powered water hub and his idea was simple: harness solar panels to pump water into holding tanks, which then fed drip irrigation lines to nearby farms at minimal cost.

He started with his uncle’s land but soon expanded to serve ten other households, most of whom had previously depended on erratic rains or long treks to fetch water. His system not only increased their crop yields but also created a small business model for him and employment for two other youth in his village.

That kind of innovation doesn’t come from waiting for external funding or global policy shifts, it comes from urgency and fearlessness.

Even as the political will in Washington fails, I see no such hesitation on the ground.

In countries across Africa, young people aren’t waiting for permission. They’re launching climate-smart enterprises, experimenting with blockchain for traceability, piloting biofertilizers, and scaling green technologies in places with no grid and no subsidies.

They are responding not just to climate risks, but to climate opportunities, including jobs, energy, investment, and commitment. And they’re doing it with urgency, discipline, and vision.

So indeed, the politics may stall, but the next generation in Africa is sprinting ahead. And if we don't catch up, we won't just be irrelevant, we will be in their way.

---

Please contact Sulakshana Gupta if you’re a paid Career Pivot subscriber who would like to be profiled in a future Humans of Development post on Career Pivot and LinkedIn.