At 54, the philanthropist, entrepreneur and social media force is living proof that age is not a limitation but a launch pad. “I felt like my life began at 50,” she says, and if you’ve been following her journey, you’d believe it.
Born and raised in the United States, Nenneh’s story is one of duality of grit and grace, of ambition and ancestry. While she built a successful life in America, she always felt a sense of displacement.
“Even though I was born and raised in the U.S., I always felt like an outsider,” she reflects. “There was a certain emptiness. Coming back here gave me peace and a deeper connection to my father.”
Her father, once The Gambia’s Attorney General, passed away shortly after they reconciled. Though their time together was brief, reconnecting with his siblings offered Nenneh a profound sense of belonging.
“My aunt stuttered, just like him. I saw him in her,” she recalls.
In recent months, Nenneh has become a familiar face at community events, distributing scholarships, making donations, and supporting local initiatives not for publicity, but out of conviction.
“Education is everything. It’s what got my dad out of poverty. It’s what got me out,” she declares.
One of her most cherished projects is supporting students at the University of The Gambia.
“I love those students. They’ve taken the initiative to go beyond the basics. That shows me they’ve already done half the work.”
At an age when society expects women to fade quietly into the background, Nenneh did the opposite. She retired at 50, dyed her hair a bold blonde, and embraced a life of freedom and self-expression.
“I got divorced twice, found myself again, got remarried. I began to live,” she laughs. “I walk to the beach barefoot, I wear what makes me feel good. I’m not dimming my light for anyone.”
Her magnetic presence online has made her an unexpected icon for women across generations. Even in rural Kiang, she was stunned when local cooks recognised her.
“That shook me. I thought my reach was only in the Kombos. It reminded me this page, this message it’s working.”
Fame, however, has not shielded her from criticism. Her fashion choices, hair colour and personal life have all been scrutinised.
“People have said all kinds of things. But I always rise above the nonsense. I know there are girls watching me. I want to be an example of strength and freedom.”
Central to Nenneh’s philosophy is financial freedom. “When women have their own money, they raise villages. When men have money, they marry more wives,” she quips.
Her own journey is testament to that belief. After leaving the American banking industry during its collapse in the 1990s, she reinvented herself first as a nurse, then as a business owner. A $250,000 loan from her sister and brother-in-law became the seed capital that changed everything. Within six months, the business was profitable. At 50, she walked away from the 9-to-5 for good.
“I knew I didn’t like poverty. So, I worked hard and made sure I’d never go back.”
Now in her third marriage, Nenneh is clear about her boundaries. “I won’t suffer in silence. Our mothers stayed in unhappy marriages. We’re not doing that. If I’m not happy, I leave.”
That boldness is precisely the legacy she hopes to leave. “I want people to remember me like they remember my father. I want them to say: She made a difference. she showed up. she changed lives.”
For women who feel invisible after 40, Nenneh’s advice is simple but powerful: “If you need to lose weight to feel better, do it. Spend more time alone. Love yourself. And please get your own money.”
She leaves us with a final reflection: “If you had told me at 30 that I’d be retired at 50, living beachfront in The Gambia, I’d have laughed. But here I am. So, believe me when I say anything is possible.”
