Feyisola Akintola Credit: CP Photo: Mars Johnson

Feyisola Akintola has heard the word “welcoming” thrown around plenty. It has become a civic buzzword, an easy stand-in for progress, a term invoked in press releases and mayoral briefings. But for her, it has never been about optics, slogans, or carefully curated diversity statements.

“A truly welcoming city goes beyond superficial sentiments,” she says. “It actively removes barriers and creates meaningful opportunities for all residents to succeed.”

That philosophy has shaped her work in Pittsburgh, where she has spent years helping immigrants navigate the fine print of government systems, advocating for policy shifts, and working alongside city leaders and community organizations to push for a city that works for everyone, not just the people already in power.

Akintola’s expertise is backed by a deep academic foundation. She is currently pursuing a doctor of education in education policy and social change at the University of Pittsburgh, where she focuses on policy implementation and evaluation, with the goal of ensuring that immigrant inclusion efforts are both sustainable and effective.

But she is under no illusions about how much work remains.

“A truly welcoming city doesn’t just say, ‘We like diversity,’” she says. “It actively removes barriers and creates meaningful opportunities for all residents to succeed.”

And Pittsburgh? For all its progress, it still has plenty of barriers.

Starting over

Akintola knows what it means to start over.

In 1999, when she was ten years old, she left Nigeria for Stone Mountain, Ga., a move she did not choose and a shift that forced her to rethink everything she understood about belonging.

“In Nigeria, community is everything; it’s a means of survival, actually,” she says. “Your neighbors are like family. If you get in trouble, they discipline you. If you need food, someone feeds you. You grow up knowing that your life is woven into the people around you.”

That changed the moment she landed in Atlanta.

“Moving from Nigeria to the U.S. required me to adapt to a completely new culture, different social norms, communication styles, and expectations,” she explains. “Here, it’s different. It’s individualistic. It’s ‘stay in your lane.’ You go from knowing everyone on your street to barely talking to the person next door.”

That shift — being thrust into a culture that prioritized independence over interdependence — stayed with her. Years later, when she found herself in leadership roles in Pittsburgh, she knew exactly what she wanted to do: create spaces where people felt like they belonged.

Two decades later, Akintola is no longer the new girl in town. She has made a name for herself as a civic leader, a strategist, and—if you ask around—a quiet disruptor.

Her leadership journey includes time in the Emerging Leaders Collaborative at the Pittsburgh Leadership Foundation (2020), where she honed her ability to build trust and influence positive change. She was also a Coro Pittsburgh Women in Leadership Fellow (2016-2017), part of a prestigious program aimed at advancing the status of women in leadership roles across southwestern Pennsylvania.

“Belonging matters,” she says. “People need to know they’re not just tolerated; they’re an integral part of the fabric of the city.”

A woman with braided hair wearing a sweatshirt sits in a small academic presentation room with fixed rows of seats
Credit: CP Photo: Mars Johnson

Rewriting the rules

If you want to understand how well a city serves its people, ask someone who has tried to navigate its systems.

That’s how Akintola ended up working in city government: not because she dreamed of becoming a bureaucrat, but because she saw too many people getting lost in policies that were supposedly designed to help them.

Take something as basic as setting up utilities.

“Take this as an example. You move here as a refugee, and you need water, electricity, basic things, right?” she says. “But the system is designed for people who have credit history, references, bank accounts. If you don’t have those, good luck.”

So she and her colleagues brought together key stakeholders, fostering conversations that led to actionable solutions.

“We were able to work with URA, [Pittsburgh Water], and other partners to streamline processes, communicate better with immigrant and refugee communities, and make sure unnecessary bureaucratic hurdles weren’t getting in the way,” she explains.

Not every effort like this was neatly packaged into a formal program, but that wasn’t the point.

“They reflected our collective commitment to removing red tape and fostering collective understanding,” she says.

From 2018 to 2023, Akintola led Welcoming Pittsburgh, the Mayor’s Office initiative focused on immigrant inclusion, working with city departments, resettlement agencies, and local organizations to remove structural barriers. During her tenure, she also managed the Office of Immigrant and Refugee Affairs (2022-2023), where she led legislative advocacy, workforce development initiatives, and language access strategies.

Eventually, Pittsburgh became a Certified Welcoming city in 2021, the 12th in the country and the third in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania (after Erie and Lancaster) to receive that designation. But Akintola is pragmatic about what that actually means.

“This recognition provided a structured framework for measuring, promoting, guiding, and validating welcoming efforts,” she explains. “But the real impact lies not in staying stagnant but in continuously challenging ourselves and exploring ways to improve.”

Akintola doesn’t just see this work in policy terms; she sees it in personal ones. She grew up watching her parents build and rebuild their lives, doing whatever was necessary to create stability.

“My father was an entrepreneur, and my mother tried everything — Mary Kay, Tupperware, Avon, working at Publix, becoming a CNA — whatever it took to provide for our family,” she recalls.

Her foundation in both economics and business and sustainability has helped her understand how policy impacts economic mobility, particularly for immigrant and refugee families.

“That’s the story of so many immigrants: they never stop trying, especially if there’s even a glimmer of hope that things will be better for the next generation,” she says.

But she also knows that sheer hustle isn’t enough.

“We need to make sure people have access to the resources, the networks, the connections they need to give their hopes a fighting chance.”

Sometimes, the impact is bigger than any one program — it’s about changing how people see their own government. “When communities see their concerns being heard and addressed, there’s a shift,” she says. “They begin to see government as something that belongs to them, not just something that operates above them.”

Credit: CP Photo: Mars Johnson

What would an ideal Pittsburgh look like?

If Akintola could build anything for Pittsburgh’s immigrant communities, free of budget and logistical constraints, she knows exactly what it would be: a Welcome Center.

“A safe space for accessing services — legal aid, job training, housing assistance, learning English,” she says. “A community hub where new people to the city can connect and make friends.”

One of her favorite ideas is a rotating cultural café, where different immigrant groups take turns running the space each month — one month led by Afghan women, another by Congolese entrepreneurs.

“This would invite Pittsburghers to engage directly with immigrant communities, fostering cross-cultural understanding,” she says.

And then there’s the “Quick Chat With…” series, where city leaders, business executives, and even celebrities — think the mayor, a Steelers player, the CEO of Duolingo — sit down for informal conversations with the immigrant community.

Also, it would be accessible from different parts of the city. “Too often, resources are concentrated in one area,” she says. “This would be a space designed by immigrants, but welcoming to all.”

For all her big-picture thinking, Akintola is also deeply attuned to the micro-moments that shape a life. These days, that means being present for her two young kids. “I don’t think I ‘balance’ motherhood and leadership in the traditional sense,” she says. “Instead, I pray for wisdom and direction on how to be a good steward of the children God has blessed me with.”

She takes them to cultural events, exposes them to different traditions, and ensures they stay connected to their Nigerian roots. “I make sure they eat the food, dance to the music, learn the language. Because I want them to understand that their identity is a gift, not a burden.”

Even though she’s not in City Hall right now, she has big hopes for how Pittsburgh will look like in ten years from now.

“I see a future where resettlement agencies are financially supported by local government, ensuring sustainability beyond federal and foundation grants,” she says. “Vacant lots and abandoned buildings are made more accessible for established communities, immigrant and refugee communities to develop and steward.”

She also envisions a city where Downtown and regional development and economic investments are shaped by diverse voices, not just those already in power.

If she could give her younger self — or any immigrant trying to establish themselves in Pittsburgh,one piece of advice — it would be this:

“Don’t give up,” she says. “Transitioning to a new place is hard,physically, emotionally,but know that there are people ready to help, guide, and encourage you. Pittsburgh needs your voice, your talents, and your contributions.”

Her biggest piece of advice? Step outside of your comfort zone.

“Don’t be afraid to ask for help,” she says. “And make an effort to build friendships beyond your own community. It’s natural to gravitate toward those who speak your language and share your background, but true belonging comes from connecting with others and embracing new experiences.”

“Above everything, always remember you belong here.”