I Started a Startup at 56. This Is What the Journey Really Taught Me.

Techtamu Talk | 17 January 2026

On 17 January 2026, at around 10 in the morning, I stood before a room full of students, founders, and curious minds.

Before I spoke, I paused for a second.

“How do I explain a journey that never followed a straight line?”

Entrepreneurship, at least in my life, was never a planned destination. It was a series of connected experiences that only made sense much later.

That lecture was not about IoT.
It was not about startups.
It was about life, timing, courage, and knowing when to let go.

You Only Understand the Journey When You Look Back

I opened the session with a quote from Steve Jobs that has stayed with me for years:

You can’t connect the dots looking forward. You can only connect them looking backward.

That sentence explains my life better than any resume ever could.

When you are young, you worry too much about choosing the “right” path. The right course. The right job. The right company.

What nobody tells you is this.
Every experience counts, even the ones that feel like detours.

You just won’t see it yet.

From a Curious Child to a Technology Lifelong Learner

My interest in technology did not start in a lab or a classroom.

It started at home.

My late father was a clerk. But in the evenings, he repaired televisions and radios. I would sit beside him, watching circuits come back to life.

“So this is how things work.”

Then came science fiction.

Cartoons like The Jetsons showed a future that felt impossible at the time. Video calls. Smart watches. Flying machines.

Today, many of those ideas sit quietly in our pockets.

That early exposure planted a question in my mind that never left me.

“What if we could actually build these things?”

Living in Four Different Worlds

I consider myself fortunate. Few people get to experience all four.

Academia.
Corporate.
Government.
Startup.

I began as a lecturer at Universiti Teknologi Malaysia, immersed in theory and research. Later, I joined the corporate world at Celcom, where reality hits hard and fast. Customers matter. Deadlines matter. Revenue matters.

At MIMOS, I worked on national-scale research, including wireless sensor networks, long before the term IoT became popular.

Then came REDtone, where I helped build IoT initiatives inside a corporate structure.

Each world taught me something different.

But they also gave me baggage.

Experience gives confidence.
It also gives fear.

Young founders often believe everything is possible.
Older founders carry doubt.

“What if this fails?”
“What if I lose my savings?”

That voice gets louder with age.

Silicon Valley Changed Everything

At 56, I joined an immersion trip to Silicon Valley.

That trip changed my identity.

I walked into Plug and Play Accelerator and saw cubicles, whiteboards, and founders who looked just like us. That was where companies like Dropbox began.

I remember thinking:

“If this guy can do it, why can’t we?”

That was the moment I stopped seeing myself as a CEO-in-waiting.

I started seeing myself as an entrepreneur.

Not someday.
Not after retirement.
Now.

Starting Late Comes With a Price

I started my startup using personal savings. No incubator. No startup playbook. No fancy terms like ‘MVP’ or ‘pitching decks’.

Just belief and experience.

Our first idea was a smartwatch for the elderly with fall detection and emergency alerts. It looked noble. It sounded meaningful.

It failed.

The market was too small.
Children did not want to pay.
The device did not suit care homes.

That was my first real startup lesson.

Good intentions do not build businesses.
Paying customers do.

Learning the Art of the Pivot

In the startup world, pivoting is survival.

We repurposed the watch for Hajj and Umrah pilgrims. New market. Same core idea.

New problems appeared.

Unrealistic pricing expectations.
Battery life demands that defy physics.
Hardware sourcing from China.
Network roaming issues.
Travel agencies are unwilling to add cost.

Then came COVID-19. We proposed quarantine monitoring. It went nowhere.

Eventually, I made one of the hardest decisions of my life.

Ending a product.

I shared this honestly during the lecture.

Ending a product feels like ending a child you raised with love.
But holding on too long can kill the company.

A CEO must choose growth over attachment.

When More Products Mean Less Identity

We built other solutions too.

A civic complaint app sounded promising. Until each client wanted heavy customization and complaint volumes exploded beyond what they could manage.

A consumer tracking app failed because people care deeply about privacy and free alternatives already exist.

At some point, I realized something painful.

When you build too many products, people no longer know who you are.

Neither do you.

The Shift That Saved the Company

That realization led to our biggest change.

We stopped building products for users.

We started building a platform for builders.

That platform became Favoriot.

An IoT platform that lets others connect devices, visualize data, and deploy solutions quickly. Over time, intelligence was added so data could speak, not just sit on dashboards.

This shift reduced risk.

Instead of betting on one product, we enabled hundreds of use cases.

Why One Revenue Stream Is Never Enough

Another hard truth I shared with the audience.

Pure SaaS subscriptions rarely pay the bills in emerging markets.

We survived by building multiple streams.

Enterprise licensing.
Project-based solutions.
Training and certification with universities.

The platform stayed at the core. Everything else wrapped around it.

That balance kept the company alive.

Partners Build What You Cannot

No startup wins alone.

We built a partner ecosystem covering hardware, software, AI, and system integration. Today, that network spans multiple countries.

Each partner brings strength we do not have.

That is how scale really happens.

Marketing Without Big Budgets

We never had large marketing budgets.

So we wrote.
We shared.
We taught.

Blogs.
Social media.
Free e-books.

Inbound marketing works when your story is honest and your knowledge is real.

People do not buy immediately.
But they remember.

The Lesson I Hope You Carry Forward

I ended the lecture with a simple reminder.

Whatever path you take, it is building something inside you. Even when it feels random.

Do not fall in love with your product. Fall in love with solving problems.
Do not trust praise until someone pays.
Do not depend on one revenue stream.
Do not fear pivoting. Fear standing still.

And most of all, do not believe it is too late.

I started my startup at 56.

If I could begin then, what is stopping you now?

I would love to hear your thoughts.
What dots in your life are starting to connect? Share them in the comments.

Why Experience Rarely Shouts but Often Whispers

Experience does not interrupt you.

It nudges.
It hints.
It quietly warns.

You learn to listen differently. To pause before reacting. To notice unease before excitement.

Wisdom waits for attention. It does not demand it.

What Staying Power Looks Like When No One Is Watching

Staying power is unglamorous.

It looks like repetition.
Routine.
Patience.

It rarely trends online.

Yet this is where meaningful work happens. When motivation fades and only discipline remains. When results are slow and faith carries the effort.

Consistency builds what intensity cannot sustain.

How My Definition of Progress Changed Over the Years

Progress once meant expansion.

More projects.
More exposure.
More growth.

Today, progress looks different.

Fewer distractions.
Better systems.
Stronger fundamentals.

Stability with purpose has become more valuable than constant motion.

Progress feels quieter now. And more real.

Why Some Partnerships Age Well and Others Don’t

Partnerships do not survive on excitement.

They survive on trust, alignment, and shared expectations.

When conditions change, weak foundations surface quickly. Strong ones adapt quietly.

Some partnerships end not because of failure, but because growth pulls people in different directions.

Learning to let go without resentment is part of maturity.

What Years of Meetings Taught Me About Human Behaviour

Meetings are one of the best places to study people.

Who listens and who waits to speak.
Who takes responsibility and who deflects it.
Who seeks clarity and who hides behind complexity.

After years of meetings across universities, corporations, government agencies, and startups, patterns become obvious.

People rarely change styles. They repeat them.

Understanding this helps you choose collaborators wisely and avoid unnecessary friction.

The Cost of Moving Fast Without Understanding Timing

Speed can be expensive.

Launching too early.
Pushing before readiness.
Forcing alignment.

Timing is invisible until it is missed.

The doodle character hesitates here. Not fearful. Just aware.

Momentum without timing creates friction.

Why I Prefer Small Signals Over Big Promises

Big promises are easy to make.

Small signals are harder to fake.

Who shows up repeatedly.
Who follows through quietly.
Who remains steady when things slow down.

The doodle character notices footprints rather than banners.

Signals age well.
Promises don’t always.

The Calm That Comes After You Accept Uncertainty

At some point, you stop trying to predict everything.

Not because you stopped caring.
But because you understood the limits of control.

Uncertainty stops feeling like a threat.
It becomes a condition of the work.

The doodle character walks calmly here. Shoulders relaxed.

Acceptance brings calm.
Calm improves decisions.

When Writing Free eBooks Still Feels Like Shouting Into the Void

I did not expect this feeling to arrive so quietly.

No dramatic moment.
No emotional breakdown.
Just a soft question that kept returning while I stared at my screen.

Should I stop writing eBooks about IoT, startups, and entrepreneurship?

I have written several eBooks over the years. Some came from years of experience building platforms. Some from scars earned while running a startup. Some from observing founders struggle with the same blind spots again and again.

I made them free.
No paywall.
No upsell tricks.
Just knowledge, stories, and lessons shared openly.

Yet after my last three books (Hello IoT, The Favoriot Way: A Life Built on Curiosity and Courage, Favoriot : The Journey of an IoT Startup), something felt off.

Downloads slowed.
Shares dropped.
The quiet became louder.

At first, I blamed myself.

Maybe the topics are stale.
Maybe I am repeating myself.
Maybe people are tired of hearing from me.

Then another thought crept in.

Or maybe the world has changed.

The Moment I Could No Longer Ignore

I noticed something about my own habits before blaming anyone else.

I no longer Google as much.
I open ChatGPT.
I type a question.
I get an answer.

Direct.
Fast.
Clean.

And here is the uncomfortable truth.

I am guilty too.

I ask AI to summarise books.
I ask for key takeaways.
I skim instead of sitting with pages.

Who am I to complain when I do the same thing?

That realisation stung.

Because I used to love reading slowly. Highlighting sentences. Rereading paragraphs. Letting ideas sit for days.

Now, time feels compressed. Attention feels borrowed. Everything competes for mental space.

The Silent Shift No One Talks About

This is not about AI replacing writers.

It is about AI changing readers.

People no longer want to search.
They want answers.

They no longer want ten blog posts.
They want one response.

They no longer want to explore.
They want to arrive.

Why buy a book when a prompt gives you a clean summary?

Why spend hours reading when minutes feel enough?

That question hurts writers, but it is not wrong.

Books were once a journey.
Now they are treated like databases.

Tell me what matters. Skip the rest.

Short Attention Is Not a Moral Failure

I hear people complain about attention spans all the time.

But I do not think it is laziness.
I think it is survival.

We are flooded with inputs. Messages. Alerts. Updates. Noise.

Reading a 150-page eBook feels heavy when your mind is already full.

The new generation did not lose patience.
They adapted to overload.

They want clarity, not volume.
Direction, not depth.

At least not by default.

When Free Still Feels Expensive

Making my eBooks free was supposed to remove friction.

Yet free does not mean easy.

Reading still costs time.
Thinking still costs energy.

AI removed that cost.

One prompt feels cheaper than one chapter.

So why am I surprised?

The Hard Question I Keep Avoiding

I keep asking myself something uncomfortable.

Am I writing for impact, or am I writing out of habit?

In the past, writing eBooks felt like leaving a trail behind. Something lasting. Something searchable. Something meaningful.

Now it feels like throwing paper planes into a sky full of drones.

They fly faster.
They reach further.
They respond instantly.

Paper planes still matter.
But fewer people look up.

Books Versus Conversations

AI feels like a conversation.

Books feel like a lecture.

That difference matters.

People want interaction. They want follow-up questions. They want context tailored to their situation.

A book cannot ask back.

AI can.

And that changes expectations.

What Writing Used to Give Me

I did not write eBooks just for readers.

I wrote to think.

Writing forced clarity.
It slowed my thoughts.
It made experiences visible.

If I stop writing books, what replaces that?

Blogs?
Short posts?
Conversations?
Voice notes?

I do not know yet.

That uncertainty is unsettling.

Maybe Books Are No Longer the First Door

Here is a thought I am still wrestling with.

Books may no longer be entry points.
They may become reference points.

Not where people start, but where they return when they want depth.

AI gives direction.
Books give texture.

AI answers questions.
Books explain why the questions matter.

But fewer people reach that stage.

The Ego Check I Needed

Another truth I had to face.

I assumed free meant valuable.
I assumed experience meant relevance.

Neither guarantees attention.

The world does not owe writers readers.

Attention is earned every day.

Even by those who have written before.

Am I Really Stopping?

When I say I feel like stopping, I am not quitting writing.

I am questioning the format.

Maybe eBooks are not where my thoughts want to live anymore.

Maybe ideas want to breathe in smaller spaces.
Or in stories.
Or in conversations.

Or maybe fewer books, written slower, with deeper intent.

I am not sure yet.

What I Do Know

AI has changed how we read.
AI has changed why we read.
AI has changed when we read.

That shift is real. It is not a phase.

Fighting it feels pointless.

Understanding it feels necessary.

The Choice In Front of Me

I can keep writing eBooks and accept fewer readers.

I can stop writing books and find new ways to share ideas.

Or I can redefine what a book means in a world that no longer reads the same way.

Right now, I am sitting with the discomfort.

No dramatic announcement.
No final decision.

Just honesty.

A Quiet Ending With an Open Question

I still believe ideas matter.
I still believe stories shape thinking.
I still believe writing is worth doing.

But I no longer believe format guarantees relevance.

Maybe the real question is not whether I stop writing eBooks.

Maybe it is whether I am brave enough to write differently.

If you are a writer, a reader, or someone who quietly stopped reading books, I would love to hear your thoughts.

Have you felt this shift too?