Trust is one of the most important words in fundraising. But while many institutional donors give it freely to organisations in the ‘Global North’, those operating in Africa are often met with unjust suspicion and bias that means they have to work much, much harder to prove themselves.

Have you ever wondered what makes someone a philanthropist? Okay, so I’m almost always cynical when someone labels themselves a “philanthropist”.

Institutional fundraising is a game – a competitive one with unclear rules, and a playing field that is far from even. To be in it, you’ve got to know how it works, and colour inside the lines.

Let’s be honest. Fundraising in places like North America and Europe is easy. The entire ecosystem – charity law, tax incentives, the very culture of giving – is designed to drive donations.

Companies everywhere are under pressure from customers, staff and shareholders to show their commitment to equity, social and climate justice.

Different definitions of donor centricity highlight the two polar opposite worlds of fundraising — whether you aspire to find a Fundraising Pallet or inhabit a Fundraising Palace.

In Kyoto, thousands of red Torii gates cover the hillside of Fushimi Inari, Japan’s main shrine to the Shinto god of rice, sake and business.

Japan is known overseas for many things: folding paper into complex shapes, raw fish, agile old people, dangerously sharp swords, large nearly-naked men wrestling, and ornate tea-making ceremonies.

There is a gulf between the optimism of many nonprofits seeking funding from diaspora groups and the reality of just how challenging this can be.

Because I live in Japan I feel duty-bound to read as much Ogawa, Murakami, and Ishiguro to help me understand this magical, infuriating, weird, and wonderful country.