By Aïssatou Diallo, Dakar, Senegal

My name is Aïssatou Diallo. I’m a trainer and community organizer based in Dakar, Senegal. For years, I believed that leadership meant saying “yes” to everything. Just to give you an idea: I could be asked to moderate a two-hour panel the very next morning with zero prep  and I would agree. Someone might ask me to handle the logistics for a weekend workshop, even though I hadn’t had a single day off in weeks  and I’d still say yes. Even if a colleague asked me to rewrite part of her report at midnight because she was overwhelmed, I’d do it.

To me, it allowed me to build a network  but not only that: I also wanted to prove my worth, show that I was indispensable, that I belonged in spaces often dominated by male or more experienced voices. It was a way to assert myself, but also a survival strategy in a high-pressure environment.

But that version of leadership was slowly burning me out.

It took a full-on burnout to slow me down. And in that forced silence, I realized something essential: true power doesn’t lie in exhaustion. It lies in the ability to say no at the right time, in the right circumstances. To set boundaries. Saying “no” isn’t shirking responsibility or rejecting others. It’s an act of self-respect. And in a world that expects women to always be available, setting boundaries becomes a powerful feminist act.

Let me explain this in simpler terms so you can truly picture it. Imagine a jar full of water. If you keep pouring it out to serve others and never refill it, you end up empty. And an empty vessel can’t give anything to anyone. Saying “no” is like putting the lid on for a while  not to shut the world out, but to preserve yourself so you can contribute with clarity, energy, and purpose.

I remember one specific moment that changed everything (besides the T.K.O. the burnout delivered  that one left me flat like a boxer in the fifth round). I had been asked to join the organizing committee of a large women’s forum. The kind of opportunity I would have jumped at before  even if I was already juggling three phones and sipping cold coffee. But at that point, I was about to launch a mentorship circle for young girls from underprivileged neighborhoods, and I was already on the edge of burnout.

So, for the first time, I said no. Politely, but firmly. No convoluted explanation. Just, “Thank you for the invitation, but I can’t commit this time.” And guess what? The world didn’t stop turning.

At first, I felt guilty... but very quickly, something else: clarity, space, and a new kind of strength.

That’s when I started looking around me: how many women were pretending to be fine, smiling on the outside, but weighed down by a mountain of accumulated “yeses”? How many were exhausted but didn’t dare say no for fear of being seen as selfish, fragile, or unreliable?

So I decided to create a space where we could talk about it  honestly. Very soon, I’ll be launching workshops called “Set Boundaries, Lead Boldly.” These will be intimate, powerful, no-filter gatherings where we talk about mental load, balance, ambition… but above all, the courage it takes to protect ourselves while staying committed.

If this kind of space speaks to you  or if you know a woman who needs permission to say “no” without guilt  stay tuned. I’ll need your support. Together, we can make this kind of leadership a movement.

What I’ve learned  and what I now teach is that setting boundaries doesn’t mean shutting down. It means self-respect. Boundaries are the roadmap to sustainable engagement. We can’t support others if we’re running on empty. We can’t lead a collective movement if we’re silently sacrificing ourselves.

Feminist leadership is not about being everything to everyone. It’s about showing, by example, a different path: one where our “no’s” are heard, our limits respected, and our well-being matters.

Today, I continue working with young women, collaborating with local associations, and speaking out about invisible labor and personal balance. More than ever, I’m convinced that the future of leadership lies in our ability to say no, to slow down, and to choose intentionally.

So if you’re doubting, if you feel guilty at the thought of setting boundaries, remember this: every “no” that protects your peace is really a “yes” to your mission.