Mayor Brandon Johnson’s top aide intervened in a heated dispute this year between Johnson’s health commissioner and a politically connected antiviolence group that receives millions in public money despite concerns over how the nonprofit tracks its workers.
The clash unfolded after the Chicago Department of Public Health’s 2025 review into the recipients of its community violence interruption grants found issues with collecting data from Acclivus Inc. It followed health Commissioner Dr. Olusimbo Ige’s complaints that the organization sought to circumvent the city’s required contracting and payment protocols before she was pushed out of the administration.
Acclivus executives spent months staunchly protesting the audit’s findings with officials at the health department, which manages the city’s antiviolence grants. The conflict played out under the watchful eye of Johnson’s senior adviser, Jason Lee — an unusual involvement for a high-ranking mayoral staffer, given that the $8 million grant is administered by a separate department.
Johnson’s ties to Acclivus include a donation his campaign made to the nonprofit, which also employs a well-known South Side activist whose consulting business has done political work for him as well as Ald. Pat Dowell, the mayor’s handpicked Finance Committee chair and ally until last year.
During a back-and-forth with Ige’s team this March over how much the city was paying the organization, Acclivus Chief Operating Officer Sheila Regan went over the health commissioner’s head and appealed to Lee by cc’ing him on an email the Tribune received via a public records request.
Lee soon weighed in. He also included Johnson’s chief of staff, Cristina Pacione-Zayas.
“Thank you Sheila,” Lee wrote on March 3. “CDPH team, please provide as prompt a follow up response as possible. In the Mayor’s office, we are available for a call as well if it is easier to discuss verbally to reach clarity. Our interest is in the successful administration of the program as soon as possible.”
The next day, he sat in on a meeting with CDPH officials in which the nonprofit’s CEO, LeVon Stone, and Regan argued the department’s audit and subsequent attempts to improve how the organization monitors the progress of its antiviolence efforts were wholly unreasonable, according to the health department’s recording of the discussion that was obtained via a Freedom of Information Act request.
The audit fight was the culmination of months of frustration from Ige, who at one point explored the idea of not renewing Acclivus’ contract, email records show.
In statements to the Tribune, both Regan and Johnson spokesperson Allison Novelo denied that the organization, which scored the highest during the 2024 award process, ever flouted the city’s bidding rules or sought favoritism.
“We understand chain of command and protocol,” Regan wrote, adding Acclivus never pursued additional funding, only “clarity” on the final amount. “We escalated appropriately only when were (sic) unable to get timely and complete responses from CDPH.”
As for Lee involving himself so closely, Novelo said he only proposed a call to “prevent further delay, errors, and confusion” after the 2026 budget passed exceedingly late into December.
But once the extra antiviolence dollars were approved, Novelo said CDPH allocated more of the additional funds to the other grantee, Metropolitan Family Services.
“CDPH did not consult with the Mayor’s office on the specific allocation of the increased investment nor did their updated proposal change after it was submitted to the Mayor’s Office,” Novelo wrote. “The Mayor’s Office’s only intervention was ensuring that the incremental budgeted dollars were appropriated to street outreach and other CVI programs regardless of which specific groups received funding and in which amounts.”
The source of Acclivus’ consternation in the emails with Lee stemmed from the health department issuing an award letter for the group showing the organization would get $8,091,916, while a separate scope of work document listed $8,982,779. Novelo said that was a “clerical” error by CDPH and that the smaller $8.09 million amount stands.
Still, Reform for Illinois Executive Director Alisa Kaplan said it was unusual to see the mayor’s top leadership become “involved in a single grantee’s contract dispute instead of leaving that to CDPH.”
“If Dr. Ige’s account is accurate, what’s striking is that Acclivus seems to expect special treatment from the mayor’s office and repeatedly appealed to City Hall in efforts to bypass basic requirements for grantees,” Kaplan wrote. “It’s not clear they ever got that special treatment, but the pattern raises questions about Acclivus’s relationship with the mayor’s office and whether it affected how millions in public funds were spent.”
Ige declined to speak with the Tribune. But her email records show months of protracted strife between her and Acclivus.
“All eyes will be on CDPH with the additional funding routed to us for violence prevention this year,” Ige wrote on Feb. 11 to Lee, then-Deputy Mayor of Safety Garien Gatewood and Deputy Mayor of Health and Human Services Arturo Carrillo. “If we want to show results for these funds, it is important that our delegates can and will work with us to ensure that all data to support the work they are doing is made available. Below are all of the issues with Acclivus.”
Ige alleged Acclivus first “refused to apply” to the city’s request for proposals from companies that wanted antiviolence money, and instead directly asked the mayor’s office for funds, but “we eventually got them to apply to the RFP.” Then she wrote, “After the application, Acclivus refused to sign the contract and wanted advance payment — we eventually got them to apply after several meetings.”
Only Gatewood, who himself was fired the next month, responded to Ige’s thread and thanked her. Ige forwarded the thread to Pacione-Zayas the same day.
Regan hit back at the former health commissioner in her statement: “The claims made in Dr. Ige’s email are all baseless and also do not make sense.”
The city typically issues RFPs during its procurement process to solicit services at a competitive price, a practice meant to curb pay-to-play politicking over city contracts. The most recent process of awarding the lead contract in community violence intervention began in the fall of 2024 and resulted in Acclivus and Metropolitan Family Services splitting the award, with both receiving extensions through the end of this year.
Acclivus also butted heads with former Mayor Lori Lightfoot’s administration over CVI funding — a feud that Regan readily noted.
“There’s a bias within the leadership (at) CDPH against Acclivus which dates back to the previous administration, which we also had to escalate to Mayor Lightfoot’s administration via her chief of staff Maurice (Classen),” Regan wrote.
That friction arose because “We raised concerns that CVI and Victim Service RFPs were written in a way that excluded qualified bidders, including Acclivus,” per Regan. But she would not say whether Acclivus ever applied for street outreach funds under Lightfoot.
Sources who requested anonymity told the Tribune that Acclivus executives approached at least four senior Lightfoot officials to seek city funding, only to be told each time they had to go through competitive bidding.
Dowell allegedly told another member of the Lightfoot administration she thought the group should receive money and requested two other officials meet with Acclivus leaders, sources said.
One source alleged the alderman told Lightfoot herself that Acclivus should get city funding, which the former mayor rebuffed by saying the group must go through the RFP process.
Reached for comment, Dowell said she “never discussed anything with Lori about this” and only recalls mentioning Acclivus to Susan Lee, Lightfoot’s deputy mayor for public safety, “Have you looked at this group?”
“That was the extent,” Dowell said. “I always thought they had to go through the RFP process. … My focus was on getting the administration to acknowledge that there are groups all across the city that do violence interruption work.”
Records show Dowell’s political campaign has paid Acclivus’ community and civic engagement director, Bamani Obadele, from 2023 to 2024 and his political consulting firm, Goshen Impact Services, from 2018 to last November.
She told the Tribune she has hired him as a consultant but denied that was related to her interest in his antiviolence group before saying, “I’m not going to be part of a witch hunt. I don’t have any more to say.”
The rest of Ige’s February email pertains to the group’s latest “escalation to (the mayor’s office) and refusal to meet with the program team,” stressing that in the wake of open records requests for violence prevention program documentation, the city must be able to “back up any result we put out.”
The next week, she emailed Lee, Pacione-Zayas, Gatewood and Carrillo on Feb. 17 with her most dire warning yet: “My major concern is if we should still consider extending the contract with Acclivus given the ongoing challenges.”
The health department also audited Metropolitan Family Services’ antiviolence programming last year. There is no indication that organization locked horns with the city over its findings.
In her statement to the Tribune, Regan challenged the parameters of the city audit. Novelo’s statement also maintains “the audit has since been closed” and the mayor’s office had no involvement in it.
“None of the items listed as so-called ‘audit findings’ actually qualify as audit findings because none represent a failure to meet any standard established by CDPH,” Regan wrote. “Following a recorded call between Acclivus and CDPH on March 4th, CDPH ceded Acclivus feedback that there were no audit findings, thus reframed the discussion following the call as requests for new/additional content. All documents requested by CDPH were submitted by Acclivus.”
That one-hour call in question grew quite testy.
During the huddle, medical director Dr. Miao Jenny Hua inquired about an outstanding list of the group’s street outreach and case management workers, which the health department collects from antiviolence grantees in order to evaluate referrals per participant. Regan countered any mismatch was “an issue created by CDPH” for removing access to its reporting portal and providing inconsistent direction on how to clean up the data.
“But that doesn’t change the audit findings that the numbers just don’t match,” Hua responded. “Please show us how you derived these numbers.”
The video recording shows Regan repeatedly challenge the mention of audit findings as “very sort of incendiary language,” prompting CDPH Assistant Commissioner Ayla Karamustafa to finally offer at the end, “We’re happy to potentially explore renaming it.”
Lee logged on to the Teams meeting about halfway through but did not speak.
Afterward, a department epidemiologist sent an internal email on March 13 expressing apprehension toward Regan’s follow-up memo because “By putting Jason Lee as the first recipient, she’s making a statement, so I’m not looking to get involved with that.”
Karamustafa flagged that Lee was already included and requested herself and Hua be part of any future correspondence about the audit, which became labeled a “site visit follow-up.”
In her response to the Tribune, Regan provided an email from a CDPH administrator affirming on July 24 “the data entered by Acclivus appears to be correct.” Hua and Karamustafa were not included.
Street outreach work first began cropping up in U.S. cities around the turn of the century, with a vision of offering support to those most likely to become victims of or commit gun violence. Decades later, neighborhoods across Chicago have a prolific network of hyperlocal programs with broad approval from elected officials.
But like many things in Chicago, the question of “where’s mine” remains a thorny undercurrent.
And the organization at the center of the controversy has long-standing ties to the mayor and other politicians.
In November 2024 — once the city already started its competitive bidding process for the antiviolence contract — Johnson’s political fund gave $25,000 to Acclivus, according to state campaign finance records. His campaign spokesperson Christian Perry said in a statement those payments were part of “a series of philanthropic donations” that also included After School Matters and Dion’s Chicago Dream.
The donations totaled $150,000, the same amount the rapper Lil Durk contributed to Johnson’s political fund in 2023. Perry did not say whether those three expenditures were from the campaign giving away Durk’s money after his October 2024 arrest on murder-for-hire charges.
Regan said the payment “was not associated with any services and it remains unspent and situated in Acclivus reserves.”
Records show Stone, the Acclivus CEO, reached out to Johnson himself that fall before the RFP closed.
On Nov. 25, 2024, Stone sent Ige an email titled “Violence Prevention” and cc’ed the mayor, Obadele, Regan and Black Caucus chair Ald. Stephanie Coleman, according to Johnson’s email logs. Stone emailed Johnson again on Feb. 6 of last year with the subject line “CDPH Payment Methods.”
Obadele, a former deputy in the Illinois Department of Children and Family Services who was convicted of fraud in 2010, also contributed $500 to the mayor’s political fund in March 2025 and another $500 this March, but both checks were returned, which Perry said was upon Obadele’s request.
Obadele said he had intended to donate from his consulting business instead of his personal account. Johnson’s campaign paid Obadele’s company $97,650 during the 2023 runoff for field work, records show.
Meanwhile, Regan joined Johnson’s delegation to meet Pope Leo XIV at the Vatican this May, which Acclivus said in an Instagram post represents how violence prevention “is a key priority for the Johnson administration that aligns with Acclivus.”
Obadele has not been shy about his loyalties, either.
“I’m with Riding with Mayor Brandon Johnson, and I don’t care who don’t like it we must keep the seat,” he wrote July 30, adding a raised fist and heart emojis before ending with “FOH,” an abbreviation for “(Expletive) outta here.”
