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The Real Game: PWI Athletics Win with Wealth, Not Athletes—And HBCUs Can’t Chase That Model

“The wealthiest boosters and donors to a PWI rarely ever played sports, but they did go build companies and a lot of wealth. Boosters spend hundreds of millions a year to compete with their friends and business competition from rival schools. The money spent is a bigger game than what happens on the field.” – William A. Foster, IV

Courtesy of The Rich Eisen Show

The image circulating across sports media this week says everything without trying to explain anything at all. LSU’s new contract offer to Lane Kiffin — seven years at $13 million annually, stacked with multimillion-dollar bonuses, home buyouts, and housing subsidies looks less like a coaching contract and more like a sovereign wealth transaction. It is the kind of deal only an institution backed by generational wealth, mega-boosters, and a national alumni base at the upper end of the economic ladder could produce. Yet every few months a familiar chorus resurfaces insisting that if “only the top African American athletes chose HBCUs,” the financial gap in college athletics would close. The narrative is compelling, emotional, and rooted in cultural longing, but it remains economically false.

The fantasy is seductive: if only more premier African American athletes chose HBCUs, our athletic programs could compete with Predominantly White Institutions (PWIs). If only we could land that five-star recruit, sign that top quarterback, or attract that elite basketball prospect, everything would change. The dream persists in alumni conversations, on social media, and in aspirational fundraising campaigns. But the dream is built on a fundamental misunderstanding of what actually drives college athletic success and it’s costing HBCUs resources they can’t afford to waste. The numbers tell a story that talent alone cannot rewrite.

Lane Kiffin’s new contract with LSU pays him approximately $13 million annually, making him one of the highest-paid coaches in college football. To put this in perspective, Southern University’s entire athletic department operates on total revenues of $18.2 million for fiscal year 2025-2026. One coach at a PWI earns over 70 percent of what an entire HBCU athletic department generates in revenue. This isn’t an aberration it’s the system working exactly as designed.

The disparity becomes even starker when you examine what funds these massive operations. According to an audit report, Southern University Athletics had total revenue of $17.3 million and expenses of $18.9 million in fiscal year 2023, creating a deficit of $1.5 million. Meanwhile, PWI athletic departments operate with budgets in the hundreds of millions. The athletes on the field, no matter how talented, cannot bridge this chasm.

What truly separates PWI athletic programs from HBCU programs isn’t the talent of 18-22 year-olds playing the games. It’s the economic power of the institutions behind them specifically, the size, wealth, and giving capacity of their alumni bases. According to Georgetown University, PWI graduates earn an average of $62,000 annually, compared to HBCU graduates who earn around $51,000. But the income gap is just the beginning of the story. The real disparity lies in generational wealth accumulation and the sheer number of potential donors.

Major PWIs have alumni bases numbering in the hundreds of thousands, often spanning generations of families who have accumulated significant wealth over decades. These institutions benefit from alumni who are CEOs, hedge fund managers, real estate developers, and executives at Fortune 500 companies. Their boosters can write seven-figure checks without blinking. When they want to retain a coach or upgrade facilities, they simply open their checkbooks.

HBCUs represent around 3% of America’s colleges, yet account for less than 1% of total U.S. endowment wealth. The endowment funding gap stands at approximately $100 to $1—for every $100 a PWI receives in endowment money, HBCUs receive $1. This isn’t just about annual giving; it’s about the compound interest of generational investment that HBCUs have never had the opportunity to build.

Corporate sponsors don’t pay for athletic excellence they pay for eyeballs and access to affluent consumer bases. When companies decide where to invest their marketing dollars, they’re calculating the purchasing power and professional networks they can reach through an institution’s alumni base. A company sponsoring a PWI athletic program gains access to hundreds of thousands of alumni with significant disposable income and decision-making power in corporations. The athletes are just the entertainment that delivers this audience. The actual product being sold is access to the alumni network—for recruiting employees, marketing products, and building business relationships.

This is why even if every top African American athlete chose HBCUs, the sponsorship dollars wouldn’t automatically follow. The economic fundamentals would remain unchanged. Companies invest based on return on investment calculations that are tied to alumni wealth and network size, not solely to on-field performance.

The belief that athletic success drives institutional prosperity is perhaps the most dangerous delusion facing HBCU leadership. Even among PWIs, only a tiny fraction of athletic programs actually turn a profit. Most operate at a loss that’s subsidized by the broader university budget, student fees, and institutional transfers. Southern University’s budget shows $2.2 million in “Non-Mandatory Transfer” and $1.4 million in “Athletic Subsidy”—meaning the institution itself must subsidize athletics with nearly $3.6 million in institutional funds. This is money diverted from academic programs, faculty salaries, research, and student services to keep athletic programs afloat.

The PWI athletic model works for PWIs not because athletics are inherently profitable, but because they can afford the losses. They have massive endowments, substantial state funding, and alumni donor bases that can absorb deficits while still funding academic excellence. HBCUs don’t have this luxury. When an HBCU runs a $1.5 million athletic deficit while struggling to pay competitive faculty salaries, upgrade outdated classroom technology, or fund research initiatives, the opportunity cost is devastating. That deficit represents scholarships not awarded, professors not hired, and academic programs not developed.

Some HBCU advocates point to conference television deals and NCAA tournament appearances as potential revenue sources. But here again, the math is unforgiving. Major PWI conferences negotiate billion-dollar television contracts because they deliver large, affluent viewing audiences that advertisers covet. The Big Ten and SEC don’t command massive TV deals because their athletes are more talented they command them because their alumni bases represent valuable consumer demographics. The SWAC and MEAC can’t replicate these deals because they don’t deliver the same audience size and purchasing power, regardless of the talent on the field. Even if HBCUs somehow assembled teams that won national championships, the structural economic advantages would remain with PWIs.

Here’s what proponents of athletic investment don’t want to acknowledge: the marginal difference in talent between a five-star recruit and a three-star recruit is minimal compared to the massive difference in institutional resources. A slightly more talented roster cannot overcome a 10-to-1 or 100-to-1 resource disadvantage.

Consider the logistics: While an HBCU football program might struggle to afford charter flights for the team, PWI programs have dedicated planes, state-of-the-art training facilities, nutritionists, sports psychologists, and medical staffs that rival professional franchises. They have recruiting budgets that allow them to identify and court prospects nationally. They have video coordinators, analysts, and support staff that outnumber many HBCU athletic departments entirely. The game is won with infrastructure, coaching depth, medical support, nutrition, facilities, and recovery technology not just with the athletes on scholarship. And these resources require the kind of sustained, massive funding that only comes from large, wealthy alumni bases and major corporate partnerships.

There is an alternative model that makes sense for HBCUs: the Ivy League approach. Ivy League schools have chosen not to compete in the athletic arms race. They don’t offer athletic scholarships for football. They emphasize academic excellence while maintaining competitive but not dominant athletic programs. Their alumni networks and institutional prestige are built on academic achievement, research output, and professional success not athletic championships.

For HBCUs, this model offers a realistic path forward. Focus resources on academic excellence, research capabilities, and entrepreneurship. Build prestige through intellectual output, not athletic performance. Create value through what HBCUs have always done best: developing future leaders, producing groundbreaking research, and serving their communities.

The Ivy League proves that institutional prestige and alumni loyalty can thrive without major athletic success. No one questions Harvard’s or Yale’s institutional value because their football teams don’t win national championships. Every dollar spent trying to compete in the PWI athletic model is a dollar not invested in what could actually transform HBCU economic outcomes: research infrastructure, entrepreneurship programs, endowment building, and academic excellence.

Research shows that more than half of all students at HBCUs experience some measure of upward mobility, and upward mobility is about 50 percent higher at HBCUs than PWIs. This is the actual competitive advantage HBCUs possess their ability to transform the economic trajectories of students from under-resourced communities. This mission deserves full investment, not the scraps left over after athletic departments consume resources. If HBCUs invested the millions currently subsidizing athletic deficits into research grants, business incubators, technology transfer offices, and endowed professorships, they could create sustainable revenue streams while fulfilling their core mission. They could become engines of wealth creation for African American communities rather than junior varsity versions of PWI athletic programs.

Admitting you can’t win an unwinnable game isn’t defeat it’s strategic wisdom. HBCUs should stop trying to beat PWIs at a game rigged by structural economic advantages they will never possess. Instead, they should redefine success on their own terms.

This means:

Rightsizing athletic budgets to reflect institutional resources and priorities, accepting that competing for national championships in revenue sports isn’t financially viable or strategically wise.

Investing in niche sports and athletic experiences that can be competitive without massive resource requirements and that build campus community without drowning budgets.

Redirecting resources toward academic distinction, particularly in high-demand fields like STEM, healthcare, and technology where HBCU graduates can command premium salaries and build generational wealth.

Building research infrastructure that attracts grants, creates intellectual property, and establishes HBCUs as innovation centers rather than athletic also-rans.

Developing entrepreneurship ecosystems that turn students into business owners and job creators, building the kind of economic power that generates sustained institutional support.

Creating HBCU-specific tournaments and competitions where these institutions can showcase their talents to their communities without subsidizing PWI athletic departments through guarantee games.

The African American community’s love for HBCU athletics is real and deep. The pageantry of HBCU homecomings, the tradition of the bands, the pride of seeing young Black excellence on display these matter. But love sometimes means making hard choices about where to invest limited resources for maximum impact. The question isn’t whether HBCUs should have athletic programs. The question is whether they should bankrupt their academic missions chasing a competitive model they can never win, designed by and for institutions with 100 times their resources.

One coach earning $13 million. One entire athletic department operating on $18 million. The math isn’t subtle. The choice shouldn’t be either.

Until HBCUs build alumni bases with the size, wealth, and giving capacity to compete in the modern college athletic arms race, pursuing the PWI model isn’t ambition it’s financial suicide. The path to HBCU prosperity runs through classrooms and laboratories, not football stadiums and basketball arenas. It’s time to stop chasing someone else’s game and start winning our own.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ClaudeAI.

Owning The Diamond: Why HBCU Women Entrepreneurs Should Buy a Women’s Pro Baseball Team

“Let us put our moneys together; let us use our moneys; let us put our moneys out at usury among ourselves, and reap the benefits ourselves.” – Maggie L. Walker, pioneering African American banker and businesswoman:

It is not enough to cheer from the stands.
IIt is not enough to cheer from the stands. If HBCU women entrepreneurs and the institutions that produced them are serious about building generational wealth, influence, and visibility in the global sports economy, then ownership, not participation, must be the goal. The emergence of the Women’s Pro Baseball League (WPBL) offers just such a moment. Four inaugural franchises in Los Angeles, San Francisco, New York, and Boston mark the first professional women’s baseball league in the United States since 1954. And yet, amid this historic announcement, one question should echo across the HBCU landscape: Who will own a piece of it?

Ownership in sports is about more than trophies it’s about capital, culture, and control. While athletes inspire, it is owners who shape the economic ecosystem: negotiating television contracts, setting standards for pay equity, deciding where teams are located, and determining which communities benefit from their presence. In American sports, Black ownership remains vanishingly rare. Fewer than a handful of African Americans have ever held majority stakes in professional teams across all major leagues. Among women, ownership representation is even smaller. Yet the HBCU ecosystem comprising over a hundred institutions, $4 billion in endowment capital (though still dwarfed by their PWI counterparts), and a growing class of wealthy and capable alumni possesses both the human and institutional capital to change that reality. Buying a WPBL franchise would be a powerful signal: that African American women are no longer content to merely play or support the game, but to own the infrastructure of it.

The WPBL represents a once-in-a-century opportunity. The last women’s professional baseball league folded in 1954 when postwar America reverted to its gendered labor norms and refused to institutionalize women’s success on the field. Today, that same sport returns in a vastly different economy one defined by media fragmentation, digital storytelling, and institutional investing that rewards niche audiences and strong narratives. Women’s sports are on the rise. The WNBA just received a $75 million investment round from Nike, Condoleezza Rice, Laurene Powell Jobs, and others. Women’s college basketball ratings have exploded, drawing more viewers than some men’s sports. The National Women’s Soccer League has seen team valuations grow fivefold in the past five years. Investors are realizing what the data already shows: undervalued leagues often yield outsized returns once visibility and infrastructure catch up.

The WPBL sits at this exact inflection point. Early investors will not just shape the league they will define its culture, inclusivity, and profitability. This is why HBCU women entrepreneurs, backed by HBCU endowments and alumni capital, should move swiftly. Ownership here is not a vanity project it is a long-term equity position in the fastest-growing frontier of professional sports.

Start-up sports franchises are not the billion-dollar investments of the NFL or NBA. The WPBL’s initial teams are expected to sell for figures in the mid-seven to low-eight figures: expensive, yes, but feasible through a syndicate model combining entrepreneurial capital and institutional backing. A $15 million franchise, for instance, could be financed with $5 million in equity from HBCU women entrepreneurs, $3 million in matching commitments from HBCU endowments through a joint-venture investment arm, $5 million in debt financing via an African American–owned bank or credit union consortium, and $2 million in naming rights, sponsorship pre-sales, and city incentives.

Such a structure distributes risk while maximizing institutional leverage. It also allows for a reinvestment loop: returns from franchise appreciation, media deals, or merchandising could feed back into the endowments that helped fund the acquisition, growing HBCU wealth through private equity in sports. At a modest ten percent annualized return over fifteen years, a $3 million endowment investment could grow to more than $12.5 million, even before accounting for franchise appreciation. The social return of visibility, leadership, and influence would be immeasurable.

HBCU women entrepreneurs already lead some of the most innovative ventures in the country from fintech to fashion to wellness. They have built companies with leaner budgets, higher risk tolerance, and community-driven missions. That same acumen could translate seamlessly into sports ownership. A women-led ownership group rooted in HBCU culture would bring authenticity to a league whose audience is already primed for inclusive storytelling. They would not merely own a team they would shape its identity around empowerment, intellect, and cultural sophistication. Imagine a team whose executive suite reflects Spelman’s academic rigor, Howard’s creative dynamism, and FAMU’s entrepreneurial grit.

Moreover, the investment aligns with HBCU women’s long history of institution building. From Mary McLeod Bethune’s founding of Bethune-Cookman University to Maggie Lena Walker’s creation of the first Black woman–owned bank, African American women have always been at the forefront of merging mission with market. Buying a professional sports franchise is simply a modern continuation of that legacy.

Most HBCU endowments remain undercapitalized. Collectively, they total roughly $4 billion, compared to Harvard’s $50 billion alone. That gap underscores why traditional endowment investing centered on conservative asset classes may not close the wealth chasm. Sports equity, particularly in emerging women’s leagues, represents a hybrid investment: cultural capital meets growth asset. Endowments could carve out a modest allocation for strategic co-investment vehicles aimed at ownership in minority- or women-led sports ventures. Such a move would not only produce potential returns but reposition HBCU endowments as active agents in wealth creation, mirroring how elite universities use their endowments as venture capital arms. The same institutions that once nurtured the first generations of African American scholars could now nurture the first generation of African American women sports owners.

The path to ownership would unfold in phases: coalition building, institutional partnerships, financial structuring, branding, and media engagement. The first step would be forming an HBCU Women Sports Ownership Council an alliance of HBCU alumnae entrepreneurs, investors, attorneys, and sports professionals. Its mission would be to identify a WPBL franchise opportunity, conduct due diligence, and negotiate terms. Next, endowments, foundations, and alumni associations could serve as anchor investors via a pooled HBCU Sports Ownership Fund. African American–owned financial institutions would provide credit facilities, ensuring that capital circulation strengthens Black banking. The team’s branding could reflect HBCU values of intellect, resilience, and excellence. Annual “HBCU Heritage Games,” scholarships for women in sports management, and partnerships with K–12 baseball programs would ensure the franchise deepens institutional impact.

By the time Opening Day 2027 arrives, the vision becomes real. A stadium in Atlanta or Houston cities with deep HBCU roots roars with excitement. The team, perhaps named The Monarchs in tribute to the Negro Leagues, takes the field in uniforms stitched by a Black-owned apparel company. The owner’s suite is filled not with venture capitalists, but HBCU women—founders, engineers, bankers, educators—raising glasses to history. Every ticket sold funds scholarships. Every broadcast includes HBCU branding. Every victory multiplies across the ecosystem, from the university’s endowment statement to the little girl in the stands whispering, “She looks like me.” That is the multiplier effect of ownership.

A defining mark of this ownership group’s legacy should not only be who owns the team but who benefits from it. When an HBCU-led syndicate buys a women’s professional baseball team, it must ensure that every dollar of the fan experience circulates through Black and HBCU-centered businesses. Ownership without ecosystem-building simply recreates dependency; real power multiplies through participation.

An HBCU women’s ownership group has the chance to build an authentically circular sports economy, where concession stands, catering services, and retail vendors reflect the same entrepreneurial DNA as the team itself. The model for this begins with women like Pinky Cole, founder of Slutty Vegan, who transformed plant-based dining into a cultural and economic phenomenon through purpose-driven branding and community investment. Her ability to merge food, culture, and empowerment offers a blueprint for how HBCU women entrepreneurs could anchor the ballpark experience in ownership and identity.

Complementing this vision is the role of HBCU-owned service enterprises like Perkins Management Services Company, founded by Nicholas Perkins, a Fayetteville State University alumnus and owner of Fuddruckers. Perkins Management operates food services across HBCUs and federal institutions, combining operational scale with cultural competence. Partnering with Perkins Management to run stadium concessions or hospitality would ensure that the team’s operations mirror the ownership group’s values efficiency, reinvestment, and excellence.

Such an approach would transform the stadium into an economic hub for HBCU enterprise. Food vendors would come from HBCU alumni-owned companies. Uniform suppliers could source from HBCU textile programs. Merchandise stands could feature HBCU student designs. Hospitality contracts would prioritize HBCU-affiliated culinary programs. The music during games could feature HBCU marching bands or alumni artists. Even the stadium’s artwork could highlight HBCU painters and photographers, ensuring every sensory detail honors the ecosystem that made the ownership possible. A fan buying food or merchandise would not just be a consumer they’d be participating in a shared mission to strengthen African American institutions.

This reimagined sports environment would also offer internships, apprenticeships, and consulting opportunities for HBCU students and faculty. Business students could study operations. Communication majors could intern with the PR team. Engineering departments could advise on stadium energy efficiency. Each partnership would turn the franchise into a living classroom of applied HBCU excellence.

At a time when major leagues outsource globally, a women’s baseball franchise owned by HBCU women could reimagine localization and reinvestment as competitive advantage. Every game day would circulate dollars through a self-sustaining ecosystem that feeds back into HBCU entrepreneurship. Because when the ballpark itself is powered by HBCU women’s enterprise from boardroom to concession stand it ceases to be a venue. It becomes a living institution.

If the Women’s Pro Baseball League truly takes off, early ownership will be the golden ticket. African American investors have often entered markets too late once valuations skyrocket and access narrows. Now, before the WPBL matures, is the time for HBCU institutions and their entrepreneurial alumnae to act collectively. The call is not for charity but for strategy. Pooling even a fraction of the capital that circulates annually among HBCU alumni could change the power dynamic in sports forever. Endowments could stake equity. Alumni could invest through private funds. Students could study the economics of their own institution’s franchise. The result would be a feedback loop of wealth, wisdom, and visibility.

The first women’s professional baseball league in seventy years deserves first-of-its-kind ownership and no community is more qualified to deliver it than HBCU women. Because when HBCU women own the field, the entire game changes.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ChatGPT.

Pan-African Capital: HBCU Endowments, African American Banks, and Kenya’s Growth Story

“When HBCU endowments and African American banks act together, they stop being small players. They become a financial force that nations must reckon with.” – HBCU Money Editorial Board

In the next several decades, the fault lines of global growth will not run through New York or London but through Nairobi, Lagos, and Accra. Kenya, sitting at the intersection of East Africa’s financial corridor and global trade routes, has become a laboratory for innovation in fintech, agriculture, and infrastructure. Yet despite centuries of cultural, spiritual, and blood connections, African America remains structurally absent from this new frontier of opportunity. Our financial institutions and HBCU endowments are under-leveraged in international markets, particularly in Africa, even as Asian, European, and Middle Eastern investors carve out dominant positions. For African American financial institutions and HBCU endowments, Kenya represents more than just an emerging market. It is a strategic stage for institutional wealth-building, geopolitical leverage, and reconnecting the African Diaspora through shared prosperity. The opportunity lies not simply in making isolated investments but in creating transatlantic joint ventures that bring together capital, expertise, and institutional strategy.

Kenya is more than safari brochures and tourist postcards. Its economy has quietly matured into one of Africa’s most diversified. With a GDP of over $110 billion and growth rates consistently outperforming many global peers, Kenya is often referred to as East Africa’s economic anchor. Nairobi has developed into the region’s financial hub, hosting multinational headquarters, stock exchange operations, and a robust startup ecosystem. Agriculture remains central, with Kenya exporting coffee, tea, and horticultural products while seeking to expand into value-addition agribusiness. Technology is another frontier, with Nairobi’s “Silicon Savannah” serving as a magnet for fintech, led by the global success of M-Pesa. Rapid urbanization fuels infrastructure and real estate demand, while Kenya’s leadership in geothermal and renewable energy has made it a global model. For African American institutions, the attraction lies not only in the growth metrics but in the alignment of needs: Kenya seeks patient capital, educational partnerships, and trusted diaspora allies, while African American institutions seek diversification, higher yields, and independence from U.S.-centric markets.

Despite African America’s aggregate $1.8 trillion in consumer spending, the community’s institutional capital remains modest. Only a handful of Black-owned banks, credit unions, and venture firms exist, and most hold under $1 billion in assets. HBCU endowments combined are less than $4 billion—an amount dwarfed by single Ivy League endowments. Yet within these constraints lies enormous potential. African American financial institutions already possess the regulatory infrastructure to pool and allocate capital, while HBCU endowments, though smaller in scale, carry moral weight and symbolic capital that can unlock global partnerships. Together, these institutions can create vehicles for international deployment of African American wealth, something that has been absent throughout our history. Imagine a pooled investment fund where Howard University, Spelman College, and Florida A&M commit $25 million collectively, matched by $25 million from Black-owned banks. That $50 million fund could be deployed into Kenyan agritech ventures, renewable energy projects, or commercial real estate. The collaboration would be historic: an African Diaspora financial ecosystem investing directly in Africa’s future.

The reasons to prioritize such engagement are strategic. Diversification is one. U.S. capital markets are increasingly low-yield for small institutional investors, while African markets offer higher growth potential and uncorrelated returns. Another is first-mover advantage. Unlike European or Asian investors, African American institutions do not carry the baggage of colonial relationships, which makes trust-based partnerships more viable. Transnational investment also provides institutional leverage. Just as Jewish, Irish, and Italian communities have leveraged diaspora ties for economic and political power, African Americans can build similar networks of influence. Beyond finance, there is the educational pipeline. HBCUs can link faculty, students, and alumni into research, study abroad, and entrepreneurial ventures tied to investments in Kenya. And finally, there is legacy. These investments address the absence of transgenerational institutional wealth that has long defined the African American economic condition.

The structures to achieve this vision can be diverse. A Diaspora investment fund pooling capital from HBCU endowments, Black-owned banks, and other African American institutions could professionally manage investments in Kenya. Public-private partnerships could align capital with Kenya’s infrastructure push in transport, energy, and housing. Venture capital and startup accelerators in Nairobi could connect HBCU students with Africa’s entrepreneurial scene while generating equity returns. Real estate investment trusts, driven by Nairobi’s urbanization, could provide stable income streams. Even education-linked ventures in e-learning and vocational training could generate both profit and intellectual reciprocity.

The barriers are real but not insurmountable. Kenya requires foreign investors to comply with incorporation, licensing, and work permit laws, which demand careful navigation. Currency risk from fluctuations in the Kenyan shilling must be hedged. Information gaps are wide, with many African American institutions unfamiliar with African business environments, highlighting the need for trusted partnerships and research. The relatively small scale of HBCU endowments makes collaboration indispensable. Above all, transparent governance and professional management are critical to avoid reputational risk. Yet none of these barriers are unique. European, Asian, and African investors face them daily and manage to thrive.

This is not only an economic project but a political one. The creation of a formal African American–Kenya Investment Council, for example, could coordinate through the Four Points Chamber of Commerce, HBCUs, and Kenyan universities to advocate for favorable treaties, tax incentives, and research collaborations. African American institutions investing abroad alter the narrative at home: no longer just a constituency asking for inclusion, but a global economic player with interests that stretch across the Atlantic. Such evolution creates leverage in Washington, Wall Street, and international forums.

Take agritech as a concrete example. Kenya’s agricultural sector employs over 60 percent of its labor force, yet productivity remains limited by technology and infrastructure. African American banks could co-finance ventures in irrigation, cold storage, and logistics platforms. HBCUs such as Tuskegee and Prairie View A&M could supply expertise in agricultural science and training. The returns could be strong, while the ventures also address food security and climate resilience—issues central to Africa’s stability. This is an example of investment tied not only to financial return but to global relevance.

The deeper point is that these ventures embed African American institutions into Africa’s growth story. They create a new narrative where HBCU students intern at Nairobi startups, Kenyan entrepreneurs raise capital from African American banks, and families on both sides of the Atlantic see tangible proof that the Diaspora is not fragmented but interwoven. In a world where capital dictates influence, these ties are transformative. They represent not just diversification but restoration, an opportunity to re-knit the fabric of a dispersed people through shared prosperity.

The cost of inaction is steep. China has entrenched itself in Kenya and across Africa through the Belt and Road Initiative. Gulf states are investing heavily in energy and real estate. European firms continue to capture opportunities in agriculture and infrastructure. If African American institutions remain passive, they will again watch as others define Africa’s economic trajectory, forfeiting both profits and influence. Worse, they will remain locked in a domestic cycle of undercapitalization and marginalization, failing to establish the transatlantic presence that could transform their institutional standing.

For too long, African America has celebrated individual success while neglecting institutional power. The result has been wealth without leverage and influence without permanence. Kenya and the wider African continent present a chance to reverse this trajectory. African American financial institutions and HBCU endowments can seize the opportunity by building joint investment vehicles that are ambitious, strategic, and collaborative. To invest in Kenya is to invest not only in profitable ventures but in the future of a Diaspora united by shared capital, shared strategy, and shared destiny. The transatlantic bridge is waiting to be built. The question is whether African America will summon the courage, coordination, and vision to cross it.

Step-by-step practical framework that African American financial institutions and HBCU endowments could follow to launch their first $50 million joint Kenya investment fund:

Imagine a handful of African American bank CEOs and HBCU endowment chiefs sitting together in a boardroom. The room is filled with cautious optimism. They know that together, they control billions in assets. What they don’t yet have is a proven model for working together to extend institutional power abroad. That meeting marks the first step: the coalition. A steering committee is formed, with voices from banking, academia, and outside advisors who know Kenya’s economic landscape. Their mandate is clear—launch a fund that delivers returns, but also anchors a new Pan-African economic relationship.

Step 1: Establish a Foundational Coalition

  • Identify core partners: Secure commitments from 3–5 African American banks and 5–7 HBCUs with at least $50M in combined investable capital.
  • Set up a steering committee: Include representatives from bank leadership, HBCU endowment managers, and external advisors with Africa market expertise.
  • Define purpose: Clearly state the dual mission: generating strong financial returns while building a bridge for institutional Pan-African economic partnerships.

The first order of business is to commission a feasibility study. Consultants with expertise in Kenya’s political economy, regulatory framework, and sector opportunities are hired. They map out the terrain: Kenya’s fast-growing fintech sector, renewable energy projects feeding off abundant solar and wind, agribusiness tied to both domestic and export markets, and logistics hubs serving East Africa’s gateway economy. Risks are weighed—currency volatility, regulatory hurdles, political cycles—but so are opportunities. The committee sees promise.

Step 2: Commission a Feasibility Study

  • Hire consultants with Kenya expertise: Legal, financial, and political economy experts based in both the U.S. and Kenya.
  • Sector focus analysis: Prioritize sectors Kenya is inviting foreign direct investment into—agriculture, fintech, renewable energy, real estate, and logistics.
  • Risk assessment: Evaluate currency volatility, repatriation policies, political stability, and regulatory compliance.

Next, the legal and financial scaffolding of the fund takes shape. They agree on a traditional GP/LP structure based in the U.S. for investor familiarity, with a Kenyan arm for local operations. Banks pledge their first tranches—perhaps $5M each. HBCUs, with smaller endowments but a deep sense of mission, contribute $2–3M apiece. Collectively, the first commitments reach $30M, enough to begin building credibility. The remaining capital will come from outside partners.

Step 3: Create the Legal & Financial Structure

  • Fund structure: Decide whether the vehicle will be a private equity fund, venture fund, or blended finance model.
  • Jurisdiction: Likely establish a U.S.-based LP/GP model for investor confidence, with a Kenyan subsidiary or partnership entity.
  • Capital commitments: Each bank and HBCU pledges proportional investments. Example: 3 banks commit $5M each, 7 HBCUs commit $2–3M each, plus matching funds from development finance institutions.

Those partners are cultivated carefully. Calls are made to the African Development Bank, IFC, and the U.S. International Development Finance Corporation. Each sees value in a diaspora-led fund connecting capital from the African American community to African markets. Meanwhile, Kenyan pension funds and cooperatives are invited to co-invest. Diaspora high-net-worth individuals are offered side-car vehicles. With these anchor and matching partners, the fund’s $50M target is within reach.

Step 4: Secure Anchor & Matching Partners

  • DFIs and multilaterals: Approach institutions like African Development Bank (AfDB), U.S. International Development Finance Corporation (DFC), and IFC for co-investments.
  • Kenyan institutions: Partner with local pension funds, cooperatives (SACCOs), or universities to establish local credibility and co-ownership.
  • Diaspora investors: Offer side-car investment vehicles for African American and African diaspora high-net-worth individuals.

Governance is another priority. The steering committee transforms into an investment committee, balanced between African American institutional leaders and Kenyan business experts. An advisory board is established with specialists in agriculture, energy, real estate, and fintech. Transparency is emphasized—annual impact reports will detail not only financial returns, but jobs created, student exchanges launched, and trade flows increased.

Step 5: Build Governance & Accountability Mechanisms

  • Investment committee: Balance between African American institutional reps and Kenyan business leaders.
  • Advisory board: Include sector specialists in agriculture, energy, fintech, etc.
  • Transparency: Publish annual reports and impact metrics, not just financial returns, but job creation and trade flows between HBCUs and Kenya.

Deal flow comes next. Nairobi-based investment professionals are hired to scout opportunities, vet local entrepreneurs, and structure partnerships. At the same time, HBCUs begin linking their own academic programs—business schools, agricultural research centers, and engineering departments—into the fund’s sector priorities. Student projects and faculty research now have real-world investment applications in Kenya.

Step 6: Develop Pipeline & Deal Flow

  • Partnership with Kenyan government: Leverage incentives offered to foreign investors, including tax breaks and special economic zones.
  • Local deal scouts: Hire Nairobi-based professionals to source deals in priority sectors.
  • HBCU connections: Link research and student projects to sectors targeted by the fund (e.g., agricultural science programs tied to Kenyan agribusiness investments).

With structure, governance, and deal flow in place, the fund launches its pilot tranche. $10M is deployed across two or three projects. A solar mini-grid company extending power to rural communities. A fintech platform simplifying mobile payments. A mid-sized agribusiness processing exports for global markets. These are not moonshots—they are solid, scalable enterprises that demonstrate both impact and return. The performance of this pilot will be watched closely. If successful, it will unlock the remainder of the $50M and set the stage for larger ambitions.

Step 7: Launch Pilot Investments ($10M tranche)

  • Start small within the $50M: Deploy $10M across 2–3 companies/projects.
  • Focus on scalable businesses: Renewable energy mini-grids, fintech payment platforms, or agri-processing facilities.
  • Monitor performance closely: Use pilot results to refine risk models, build confidence among stakeholders, and attract more investors.

Within 18 months, the pilot investments begin to show results. Jobs are created. Returns begin to flow. Confidence builds. The remaining capital is deployed, spreading across a diversified portfolio. HBCUs launch student and faculty exchanges with Kenyan institutions tied to the fund’s sectors. African American banks begin opening lines of credit to U.S. businesses interested in exporting to East Africa. The fund is no longer just an experiment—it is an institution in itself.

Step 8: Expand and Institutionalize

  • Scale to full $50M deployment: After 12–18 months of pilot success, release additional tranches.
  • Knowledge transfer: Create HBCU student and faculty exchange programs tied to investments.
  • Secondary fundraising: Use strong pilot performance to raise an additional $100M+ follow-on fund.

As momentum grows, the fund takes steps toward permanence. A Nairobi office is established, staffed by African American and Kenyan professionals alike. Training programs create a pipeline for HBCU students to intern in Kenya and Kenyan students to study at HBCUs. Over time, this exchange deepens the cultural and economic ties the fund was designed to spark.

Step 9: Create Long-Term Infrastructure

  • Permanent office in Nairobi: Establish a joint African American–Kenyan fund management company.
  • Training & pipeline development: Develop internship pipelines for HBCU students in Kenya, and Kenyan students at HBCUs.
  • Institutional trust: Turn the fund into a long-term institutional asset class for African American banks and HBCUs.

After five years, success is measured in multiple ways. Financially, the fund delivers returns in line with its targets—perhaps 12–15% IRR. Institutionally, it has created a precedent: HBCUs and African American banks can collaborate on global investments. Socially, it has created jobs in Kenya, exported knowledge and partnerships, and brought students and faculty into real-world economic diplomacy. Most importantly, it has built trust. Trust between African American institutions and African markets. Trust that this model can be scaled.

Step 10: Measure Success & Reinvest

  • Financial benchmarks: Target 12–15% IRR across diversified investments.
  • Social impact: Jobs created in Kenya, number of HBCU students/faculty involved, new African American businesses entering African markets.
  • Recycling capital: Reinvest returns into next-generation funds, building compounding institutional wealth.

With trust comes ambition. A second fund is planned—this time $100M, then $500M. The coalition envisions a Pan-African investment platform, deploying billions across sectors and countries. HBCUs, once thought of only as educational institutions, now sit at the table of international finance. African American banks, once dismissed as niche, now act as global intermediaries for diaspora capital.

The $50M Kenya fund was never just about money. It was about proving the power of joint institutionalism. It was about showing that African American capital, when organized and directed abroad, can generate wealth, influence, and opportunity for generations. And it was about establishing a roadmap that others can follow—a playbook for diaspora-led investment that starts in Kenya but could extend across the African continent.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ChatGPT.

While Howard Is Chasing Harvard, What Public HBCUs Are Chasing UTIMCO?

“I make no apology for the love of competition.” – John Harbaugh

In the world of higher education finance, few numbers turn heads quite like endowment size. It is the ultimate scoreboard for institutional power—a metric that signals not only a university’s wealth but also its capacity to shape research, drive innovation, support students, and influence national policy. In this rarefied air, Howard University has made history, becoming the first Historically Black College or University (HBCU) to surpass the $1 billion endowment mark. According to HBCU Money’s 2024 rankings, Howard’s endowment now stands at $1.03 billion.

Spelman College, long regarded as Howard’s fiercest private competitor, received a record-setting $100 million donation in 2023. Yet even with that windfall, its endowment reached $506.7 million—leaving it more than $500 million behind Howard. Nevertheless, Spelman’s donor base remains one of the strongest in Black higher education, and it may still overtake Howard in the race to $2 billion. But the $1 billion baton has already been passed.

If Howard is chasing Harvard, and Spelman is setting its sights on Yale, then who among public HBCUs dares to chase the Goliath of public university endowments—UTIMCO?

The Silent Behemoth in Texas

UTIMCO—the University of Texas/Texas A&M Investment Management Company—is not just large; it is colossal. As of 2024, UTIMCO manages a staggering $64.3 billion in assets across the University of Texas and Texas A&M university systems. That figure is nearly $15 billion more than Harvard’s own endowment and more than three times the size of the second-largest public university endowment at the University of Michigan.

This financial empire is largely invisible to the public eye. Few outside of elite Texas financial and political circles are even aware of UTIMCO’s existence, let alone its scale. It quietly funds a wide spectrum of research, real estate development, and private equity plays that influence state and national agendas.

If an HBCU—or group of HBCUs—is ever to rival that level of public endowment control, it will not happen by accident. It must be built. And it will most likely be built collectively.

HBCUs and the Endowment Gap

The endowment disparity between HBCUs and Predominantly White Institutions (PWIs) has been well-documented. HBCUs represent around 3% of America’s colleges, yet account for less than 1% of total U.S. endowment wealth. According to a McKinsey report, HBCUs would need $12.5 billion in incremental funding to achieve endowment parity with similarly sized PWIs.

While private HBCUs like Howard and Spelman appear to be making some headway, public HBCUs remain largely behind. Most of them are tethered to state systems that have historically underfunded them and which rarely—if ever—extend the full benefits of their system-wide endowment strategies.

Consider the University of North Carolina System. It includes North Carolina A&T, the largest HBCU by enrollment, and North Carolina Central University. Yet both institutions have endowments under $200 million. Meanwhile, UNC Chapel Hill boasts an endowment exceeding $5.4 billion. Similarly, Florida A&M University has an endowment of less than $200 million, while the University of Florida’s soars above $2 billion.

The Case for a Public HBCU Endowment Challenger

In identifying a public HBCU capable of mounting a challenge to UTIMCO’s financial supremacy, the most promising strategy does not lie in the strength of one institution—but in the collective power of several. States that are home to multiple public HBCUs present the most viable path to establishing a unified, independently managed investment entity that can leverage scale, pooled capital, and institutional collaboration.

Virginia, Alabama, Georgia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Mississippi all house two or more public HBCUs, each with proud legacies and strategic regional influence. A coordinated financial framework across these schools could form the foundation of a “Black UTIMCO”—a professionally managed, state-based consortium endowment capable of rivaling small PWI systems in both return and influence.

The most likely candidates must share a few key characteristics:

  1. State-Level Endowment Consortium Model – States with two or more public HBCUs, such as Virginia (Virginia State, Norfolk State), Georgia (Albany State, Fort Valley State, Savannah State), or Alabama (Alabama A&M, Alabama State), are uniquely positioned to pioneer a collective endowment strategy. Rather than relying on marginal support from broader university systems, these HBCUs could form a joint investment vehicle modeled on UTIMCO—pooling their endowments under a professionally managed, independent investment company. Such a fund would enable economies of scale, competitive asset management, and unified long-term planning, boosting their ability to generate investment alpha and philanthropic leverage.
  2. Flagship Status Among HBCUs – Institutions with strong alumni networks, national reputations, and federal research capabilities are better positioned to attract major philanthropy.
  3. Strategic Location – HBCUs located in fast-growing economic zones can leverage regional corporate ties for private partnerships.

However, creating such a financial architecture is not purely a technical endeavor. It is inherently political—and often fraught with social resistance.

The Political Geography of Resistance

Many of the states that host multiple public HBCUs are governed by conservative legislatures and state boards of regents that have long resisted equitable funding for Black institutions. Despite proclamations about diversity, equity, and inclusion, these power structures often withhold support from Black-led entities that could challenge traditional hierarchies.

  • Alabama, with Alabama State and Alabama A&M, underfunded its HBCUs by over $527 million between 1987 and 2020, according to the U.S. Department of Education.
  • Georgia’s consolidation of HBCUs like Albany State into broader system structures has often diluted their financial and governance autonomy.
  • Mississippi has repeatedly neglected basic infrastructure and funding needs at its three public HBCUs—Jackson State, Alcorn State, and Mississippi Valley State—despite allocating surpluses elsewhere. It is also no secret that Mississippi has purposely constructed a singular board of trustees for all of its public higher education institutions across the state with Ole Miss and Mississippi State unabashedly dominating the board.

Even in Virginia, perceived as more moderate, a move by Virginia State University and Norfolk State to pool their endowments might be seen as too bold a play in a state that still subtly resists Black institutional consolidation.

Social Impediments and Institutional Fragmentation

Beyond politics, there are intra-HBCU dynamics that complicate collaboration. These institutions have historically been forced to compete for scraps, which can breed a zero-sum mentality. Trustees, alumni, and administrations often prefer complete local control over modest assets rather than shared governance over substantial ones.

Convincing institutions to pool their endowments requires cultural alignment and a long-term vision of shared prosperity. Donors, too, may resist giving to multi-institutional funds, preferring the emotional appeal of a singular alma mater.

Nonetheless, this mindset must change. The math is clear: five public HBCUs each contributing $100 million can produce a $500 million investment base. That scale opens doors to private equity, hedge funds, and other vehicles that outperform the conservative allocations typically used by smaller institutional portfolios.

Institutions Poised for Leadership

  • North Carolina A&T State University, with an endowment of $201.9 million, remains the largest public HBCU endowment. With deep ties to tech and defense industries, it has both alumni momentum and industry leverage.
  • Florida A&M University, despite setbacks surrounding its pledged $237 million donation, has an official endowment of $124.1 million and stands to benefit immensely from partnership with institutions like Bethune-Cookman or Edward Waters.
  • Virginia State University and Norfolk State University, with $96.5 million and $88.2 million respectively, could combine to form the financial cornerstone of a Virginia HBCU Investment Company—managing nearly $185 million in assets at inception.

The Need for a “Black UTIMCO”

Rather than wait for state systems to share the wealth equitably, some in the HBCU policy space are advocating for the creation of a consortium endowment fund — a kind of “Black UTIMCO.” This collective endowment manager would pool assets from willing HBCUs, allowing them to negotiate better investment terms, lower fees, and generate alpha through scale.

Such an initiative would require governance innovation, donor transparency, and trust between institutions that are often underfunded and overburdened. But it may be the only viable path forward for public HBCUs to compete against mega-managers like UTIMCO, MITIMCo, or the Yale Investments Office.

A $5 billion consortium fund, even divided across 25 HBCUs, would be transformational. It could fund scholarships, capital improvements, faculty chairs, and technology upgrades, while giving HBCUs the financial leverage to attract major federal research grants.

A New Competitive Mindset

In American higher education, the metaphorical arms race is very real. Endowments are the stockpiles. Harvard and Yale are the gold standard in the private arena. UTIMCO is the titan in the public sector. And HBCUs, despite their contributions to Black excellence, continue to be locked out of the upper tier.

John Harbaugh’s quote about competition resonates because it points to a deeper truth: love of competition does not require parity at the outset, only the will to chase. Howard is in the final lap toward $1 billion, setting a new bar for Black institutional capital. Spelman may outdistance them on the next lap to $2 billion. But in the public sphere, the silence is deafening.

Where is the public HBCU that dares to dream of beating Michigan, surpassing UNC, or even challenging UTIMCO?

The Race Begins with Vision

Howard is chasing Harvard. Spelman is perhaps chasing Yale.

But no single public HBCU can chase UTIMCO. The scale is too vast, the machinery too entrenched, and the rules too uneven.

What public HBCUs can do, however, is combine. They can look across their borders, past their rivals, and toward a shared future. They can imagine a world where collective African American endowment power reshapes not just education, but the broader economy and policy landscape.

It is not a failure of ambition that no public HBCU has reached $1 billion. It is a failure of coordination and imagination.

The first African American UTIMCO will not be built by a single school. It will be built by a desire for compeition. A desire to win.

A Merger of (Potential) Might: Why Prairie View A&M and Texas Southern Should Combine Their Foundations to Challenge the Endowment Establishment

It is reason, and not passion, which must guide our deliberations, guide our debate, and guide our decision. – Barbara Jordan

In the gilded halls of America’s elite universities, financial firepower is both a symbol and source of dominance. Endowments—the great silent engines of academia—determine not only which students get scholarships but which schools can recruit Nobel-calibre faculty, fund original research, and shape public policy. At the apex of this order stands UTIMCO, the University of Texas and Texas A&M’s investment juggernaut, with more than $70 billion under management. Below, far below, exist the undercapitalised yet ambitious Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) of Texas.

Two of the state’s largest HBCUs—Prairie View A&M University (PVAMU) and Texas Southern University (TSU)—have long histories, loyal alumni, and vital missions. What they do not have is institutional wealth. PVAMU’s foundation reported a modest $1.83 million in net assets in 2022. TSU’s foundation, better capitalised, holds $22.7 million. Combined, that amounts to just $24.5 million. For comparison, Rice University, less than 50 miles from either campus, holds an endowment north of $7.8 billion.

That yawning disparity matters. But it also presents an opportunity: a merger of the two foundations into a single, more potent philanthropic and investment entity. Done properly, it could reorient how Black higher education competes—not by appealing to fairness or guilt, but through scale, strategy, and institutional force.

A Rebalancing Act

To understand the potential of a PVAMU-TSU foundation merger, one must first grasp the dynamics of university endowments. Large endowments benefit from economies of scale, granting them access to exclusive investment opportunities—private equity, venture capital, hedge funds—often unavailable to smaller players. They attract the best fund managers, demand lower fees, and can weather market volatility without compromising their missions. Small foundations, by contrast, tend to be conservatively invested, costly to manage per dollar, and too fragmented to punch above their weight.

A consolidated HBCU foundation in Texas would be small compared to UTIMCO, but large relative to its peers. With a $25 million corpus as a starting point, the new entity could position itself for growth by professionalising its investment strategy, adopting a more ambitious donor engagement plan, and forming partnerships with Black-owned banks, family offices, and community institutions. Call it the Texas Black Excellence Fund, or perhaps, more simply, the TexHBCU Endowment.

To be sure, the legal and logistical barriers to such a merger are real. Foundation boards guard their autonomy jealously. Alumni pride can turn parochial. Governance models would need careful negotiation to ensure representation and avoid turf wars. But the arguments in favour are compelling.

The Power of One

First, a merger would cut overhead. Legal, accounting, auditing, and compliance costs—duplicated today—could be streamlined. A joint fundraising apparatus could create a single point of entry for corporate partners and high-net-worth donors. Branding efforts would gain coherence: instead of competing for attention, the institutions would stand together as a symbol of Black institutional unity and strength.

Second, scale invites leverage. A $25 million foundation cannot change the world overnight, but it can attract co-investments, engage in pooled funds, and perhaps even launch a purpose-driven asset management firm in the model of UTIMCO. If successful, this would be the first Black-led institutional investor of serious size in Texas—capable not only of managing endowment funds but of influencing broader economic flows across Black Texas.

Third, the merger would send a strategic signal to policymakers and philanthropic networks. It would say, in effect: “We are no longer asking for permission to grow. We are building the engine ourselves.” That tone matters. Too often, HBCUs are framed as needing rescue. A merged foundation flips that narrative. It becomes an asset allocator, a market participant, a builder of capital rather than a petitioner of it.

UTIMCO: A Goliath in the Crosshairs?

No one expects a $25 million fund to challenge a $70 billion behemoth. But that is not the point. UTIMCO’s dominance is as much political as it is financial. Its influence flows from its role as gatekeeper to resources, shaping everything from campus architecture to graduate fellowships. The merged HBCU foundation would not dethrone UTIMCO—it would decentralise power by becoming a second pole.

Indeed, the comparison may inspire mimicry. Just as UTIMCO serves multiple institutions, so too could a joint HBCU foundation. Prairie View and Texas Southern are only the beginning. Over time, the model could scale to include other Black-serving institutions across Texas and the South. This would amplify investment impact and accelerate institutional wealth-building.

Moreover, such a foundation could adopt an unapologetically developmental investment strategy. Where UTIMCO optimises for returns, the TexHBCU fund could optimise for both returns and racial equity—by investing in Black entrepreneurs, affordable housing, climate-resilient infrastructure, or educational tech. The dual mandate—profit and purpose—would not be a hindrance but a hallmark.

Regional Stakes

Prairie View sits on a rural hilltop. Texas Southern sprawls in urban Houston. But their communities are deeply connected—culturally, economically, demographically. A combined foundation could create regional development strategies that go beyond scholarship aid.

Imagine a venture fund seeding Black-owned start-ups in Houston’s Third Ward. A real estate initiative turning vacant lots into mixed-income housing for PVAMU students and local residents. A workforce development fund retraining returning citizens for green jobs across both cities. Each dollar invested becomes more than a balance sheet entry; it becomes a force for transformation.

This matters not just to students and faculty, but to the broader Texas economy. Black Texans make up 13% of the state population but own less than 3% of its small businesses. Educational attainment gaps persist. Institutional neglect deepens. The merger would not fix all this—but it would give the community a new tool for shaping its destiny.

Copy, Then Paste

If the model works, it would not stay in Texas. Southern University in Louisiana has multiple campuses and foundations that could benefit from consolidation. So does the University System of Maryland’s HBCUs. Indeed, the entire sector could adopt a federated endowment strategy—unified in purpose but distributed in governance.

HBCUs have long suffered from institutional atomisation. They are asked to compete individually in a system that rewards consolidation. Merging foundations is not just a finance play—it is a strategy for survival and sovereignty.

The Alternative: Stagnation

Critics may say a merger is too ambitious. That it risks alumni backlash or donor confusion. That it could take years to execute. But delay is itself a cost. Each year the foundations remain separate is another year of opportunity lost. Another year where millions in potential returns go unrealised. Another year where larger institutions deepen their lead.

PVAMU and TSU have histories to be proud of. But institutional pride must not become institutional inertia. A merger is not surrender—it is evolution.

In the long arc of higher education, moments of boldness define legacy. This is one of those moments. Two foundations. One future. Let the uniting begin.