In today’s world, everyone is “into tech.” New tools drop on Tuesday; they’re obsolete by Friday. Buzzwords trend like wildfire—AI this, blockchain that, the metaverse the other. For a long time, I lived with a persistent, nagging anxiety: if I wasn’t sprinting toward the latest shiny object, I was already falling behind.
I used to believe the person with the biggest stack of tools won. Now, I realize that’s like believing the person with the most hammers is the best architect.
The Fever of the “New”
When I first entered the world of IT, I was a tool collector. I treated frameworks and plugins like trophies for a display case. If a library was trending on GitHub, I wanted it on my resume. I spent late nights mastering complex syntax for features I didn’t even need yet.
It felt like progress. It felt like “the grind.” But in reality, I was building houses on sand, using the most expensive materials I could find without looking at the blueprints.
The turning point came during an early web project. I was determined to make it a masterpiece of modern engineering. I layered on every animation, every trendy script, and a backend architecture so complex it could have powered a small bank.
The result? The site looked like the future, but it moved like a glacier. Users were confused. The client was frustrated. The project didn’t just stumble; it collapsed. That failure was a cold, honest teacher. It whispered a truth I hadn’t wanted to hear: Many people know tools. Very few know why they are using them.
The Art of Doing Less
As I moved deeper into web development and digital systems, my obsession with “more” began to evolve into a respect for “better.” I realized that simplicity isn’t a lack of skill—it’s the highest form of it.
I started approaching my desk not by asking, “What can I add?” but by asking:
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Does this feature actually serve the human on the other side of the screen?
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Can this be done in three steps instead of ten?
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What is the actual problem we are trying to solve?
Good technology is like a well-tailored suit: you shouldn’t notice the stitching; you should just feel like a better version of yourself. When a system is truly elegant, the code becomes invisible. The user doesn’t praise the database—they enjoy the experience. That is the ultimate goal of the craft.
Strategy Over Showmanship
This philosophy became the heartbeat of WEBKIH. I stopped selling “features” and started selling “solutions.”
I’ve sat in rooms with business owners who were convinced they needed a dozen different integrations and a complex AI chatbot. Often, after we stripped away the noise, we found they actually just needed one clear landing page and a reliable way for customers to reach them.
Clarity always beats complexity. A website doesn’t exist to impress other developers; it exists to convert visitors into customers. Technology should be a bridge, not a barrier. If a tool doesn’t reduce stress for the business owner, it’s not a tool—it’s an anchor.
Leadership Beyond the Screen
My time leading youth initiatives and community projects reinforced this. Outside of the digital bubble, no one cares about your tech stack. They care about whether the system helps them get what they need.
In leadership—just as in IT—the best systems are the ones that empower people to eventually move forward without you. Technology should create access, not dependency. It should be the wind at someone’s back, not a leash around their neck.
The Rule of Intentionality
Today, I live by a strict personal rule: If a tool does not clearly solve a problem, it does not deserve my time.
In an age of endless digital distraction, focus is a superpower. The future of technology is going to be incredibly noisy, and my goal isn’t to be the loudest voice in that room. My goal is to be the most reliable one.
At WEBKIH, every project now begins with the same quiet question: What actually matters here? If we can answer that honestly, the technology becomes powerful. Not as a trophy to be admired, but as a tool that moves people—and businesses—exactly where they need to go.