When I was in Year 10, our school offered a chance for students to tutor some Grade 6 kids who were behind. I put my hand up right away. I loved doing every extra activity the school had. It was fun, and I liked being involved in everything.

But when the list came out, my name wasn’t on it.

I went to my teacher, confused. She told me I wasn’t chosen because my marks weren’t high enough. I remember standing there thinking, That can’t be right. I know I can do this. But she said there was nothing she could do.

I went home furious—not at her, but at myself.

I realised something important:

Working hard doesn’t matter if you’re not working in the right direction.

I had spent so much time on fun activities and friends that I hadn’t put enough effort into the things that actually counted for this opportunity. I wasn’t failing—I just wasn’t focused.

So I did something different.

-Instead of complaining or giving up, I worked smarter.

-I went to the library.

-I borrowed books.

-I researched tutoring, child development, learning methods.

-I wrote a full report with quotes, examples, and clear reasons why I should be allowed to tutor a child.

-I created a presentation—carefully planned, beautifully put together, and completely my own work. When I handed it in, the teacher was shocked. She even rang my mum to ask if she’d helped. My mum said no—she hadn’t even seen it.

The report went to the principal.

And I got approved.

But because I was late joining the group, there were three kids left—so I met with all three. After talking with them, something inside me said I couldn’t just choose one. I wanted all three.

The teacher almost laughed.

“You didn’t even qualify for one,” she said. “You definitely can’t take three.”

But I knew I could.

And after more back-and-forth, they finally said yes—probably because they were tired of arguing with me.

And I threw myself into it.

By the end of the semester, all three kids had improved a lot. But one boy, Steve, changed me forever. He came from a rough home. At age 12, he was already dealing drugs, like his brothers. He truly believed he had no future.

He told me that when he turned 16, he’d leave school and sell drugs full-time.

I remember feeling shocked. Not at him, but at the idea that no one had shown him something better.

So I showed him what I could. I talked to him. Listened to him. Helped him with schoolwork. Helped him picture a life he didn’t even know existed .It was a struggle, his resistance was high but I was more stubborn. By the end of that semester, he said in light conversation, “Maybe one day I could go to university.”

I cried when he said that. Inside of course, I was just 15yo and trying to be cool. But I knew the courage it took for him to even consider a different path let alone voice it.

I don’t know what happened to Steve after that. Kids in his situation don’t get much support. He was close to being expelled before I took him on and I know he got to stay at the school for the following year.

But he made a huge impact on me.

And that’s where this value comes from.

Grow Smarter, Not Harder isn’t about shortcuts or avoiding effort.

-It’s about focusing on what truly matters.

-It’s about using your energy in the right places.

-It’s about helping people rise, even when the odds are stacked against them.

-It’s about choosing action that creates real change.

In business—and in life—effort alone isn’t enough. Smart strategy, clear direction, and meaningful support are what make the difference.

That’s what we believe. That’s what we embody.

And that’s what we live, every day, at AI Business Strategist.org

When I was a teenager, I learned what it really means to be a small business owner—not from books, but from watching my dad.

He was a local builder, the kind of SME owner who worked harder than anyone I knew. He was always trying to stay ahead, always finding ways to give our family a better life. He was actually the first person in our area to own a mobile phone. It wasn’t like phones today. It was huge, heavy, and lived in a big black bag. I couldn’t even lift it, and even though I wasn’t allowed to touch it, I still felt proud knowing my dad had something so advanced.

My uncle worked high up at Apple, so we were also the first kids at our primary school to have a computer at home. The giant box sat in the corner of the living room, and even though all we did was play Mahjong on it, it felt like magic. Looking back now, it feels like a little preview of the world I’d one day work in.

But it wasn’t all exciting tech and proud moments.

Behind the scenes, my dad faced things most people never saw.

-Those were the years of interest rates above 20%.

-Recessions that emptied people’s wallets overnight.

-Clients who didn’t pay.

-Jobs that fell through.

-Weeks where the stress sat heavy on his shoulders.

There were times when money was so tight he wouldn't brake at corners to save the fuel. Times when he had to keep paying everyone else even when he couldn’t pay himself. Times when he held everything together with sheer determination because that’s what SME owners do.

-I watched him get up early, come home late, wipe the dust off his boots, and still try to smile at the dinner table.

-I watched him fight for every job, every customer, every week.

-I watched him carry the weight of a whole business on his back.

That’s when I learned what most people don’t understand:

SMEs don’t just run businesses—they carry entire communities.

As a teenager, I didn’t have the words for it yet, but I knew something important:

Small business owners deserve more support than they get. That lesson has stayed with me my whole life. It shaped how I work. It shaped why I show up. It shaped this value.

Today, at AI Business Strategist.org, we support SMEs first because we know exactly how hard their life can be. We know the pressure, the risks, the uncertainty, and the quiet strength it takes to keep going.

-We saw it at home.

-We felt it growing up.

-We lived it in our own businesses.

And now we help SMEs with the one thing they rarely get—real support, simple systems, and tools that make their lives easier, not harder.

Because SME owners are the heroes of every community.

And they should never have to carry it all alone.

When I was six years old, I used to help my mum clean up the playroom. It was always a mess—toys everywhere, crayons on the floor, dolls mixed with toy cars, puzzles missing pieces. Every time she walked in, she would sigh and say, “Where do we even start?”

I felt the same way.

One day, she handed me a big blue box and said, “Let’s make this easy. All the toys you love go in here. Everything else can wait.”

So we did.

We put my favourite things in the box—my teddy, my colouring books, my puzzle pieces. Suddenly the room didn’t feel so scary anymore. The mess didn’t feel so big. The job didn’t feel so hard. We even nicknamed the box BBB for ‘big blue box’ , a tongue twister when said fast and got us kids giggling as we cleaned up.

From that day on, cleanup was simple and fun.

-Not perfect.

-Not fancy.

-Just simple.

I didn’t know it then, but that moment taught me something important: When you make things simple, everything gets easier.

Years later, working in business, I realised I had lost that lesson.

We made everything complicated—big systems, long processes, heavy work. We thought that was “the way.” But it wasn’t. It was just the grown-up version of the messy playroom.

And when AI arrived, it was like getting that same Big Blue Box all over again.

Suddenly, we could put things where they belonged. We could make the work lighter. We could choose what mattered and leave the rest. Work became more fun again.

We remembered the six-year-old lesson we forgot:

-Simple isn’t small.

-Simple is smart.

-Simple is powerful.

That’s why “Keep Business Simple” became one of our core values.

It’s not just a business rule—it’s a life rule we learned as kids. And now, every system we build, every workflow we create, every strategy we design starts with the same thought:

“Let’s make this easy.”

Because even grown-ups work better when the playroom is finally clean