One Year of Building Okike Labs

Okike Labs turned one in August. It doesn’t feel like a big milestone — It just feels like time passed. One year of trying to figure out what we’re building, what we’re doing and who we are.

When I had the grand plan of starting a product lab, I imagined all the possible ways it could have turned out, but not in the way it actually did.

The Early Stage: Everything and Nothing

The first few months were mostly us throwing things at the wall, trying to find something that would stick. We were eager to build, but unsure of what to build. It felt like we were constantly starting over. We thought about a wedding planning software, because weddings are messy and we saw space to simplify it. There was the infamous Linkedin tool for personal branding that almost got my account banned. Another idea we spent time on was a bookmarking tool for ADHD folks, travel ideas, and even AI projects.

Every idea had something interesting, but none of them stuck long enough. Sometimes we’d get excited for a week, then it’d fade. Other times, the scope would spiral too much. We wanted to do everything at once — build cool products, make money, build in public, building an audience, but we ended up doing none of them well.

My partner and I also had different philosophies when it comes to building and launching products. I wanted to test ideas quickly (ship fast, learn from the market, iterate or kill), while he wanted to take time to find ideas and work on them deeply. Both approaches have merit. The problem is when you're stuck between them, you end up doing neither well. We'd start fast, then slow down to refine, then lose momentum entirely, then feel guilty about not shipping.

It was a recipe for stalling out. And we did. Repeatedly.

The Graveyard of Ideas

For almost a year now, Okike Labs has positioned itself as a "multi-product company" with only one product to show for it. It's embarrassing to say out loud. We're supposed to be the company that ships. Instead, we've left a trail of abandoned projects like breadcrumbs leading nowhere.

As it turns out, we're still developers after all, plagued by the same curse that haunts our kind: we don't finish things.

Here's what didn't make it:

The LinkedIn Tool – We got caught up in technical details and legal fear. What if LinkedIn bans us? What if we violate terms of service? We built our prison before we even laid the foundation.

The Analytics Tool for Short-Form Video Creators – Started it. Abandoned it. Next.

The Wedding Planning Tool – This one stings the most because it was my first-ever idea. We talked to over 50 people. We did the research. And you know what became crystal clear? People had low trust. We're Black males with no wedding expertise trying to convince someone to trust us with one of the most important days of their life. The math didn't math. We haven't given up entirely, but we're being real about what it would take—maybe a collaboration with an industry expert, maybe a different angle.

The Bookmarking Tool for ADHD Folks – Another start, another stop.

The Directories Play – Went nowhere fast.

None of these ideas were bad. But none of them got the follow-through they needed. We kept starting things, getting bored or discouraged, then chasing the next shiny idea.

The idea was to build small, niche tools — focused, useful, profitable. I still believe that’s the right approach. But our execution didn’t match our intent.

Ironically, Nuxt SaaS Kit, the one product that worked wasn’t even meant to be a product. It started as something internal, a boilerplate to save us setup time for future products. As engineers, we did not want to repeat the same setup over and over again. But around that time, boilerplates were trending. Everyone was building them for React and Next, but no one for Nuxt. So we decided to launch it as a product to fill the gap.

It took us so long to release it that we'd already lost the momentum and virality. But we shipped it anyway. And we've made sales. That's something to be proud of, right?

That was the first time Okike Labs was making money. It wasn’t much but it made the whole thing real.

I learned quickly that building products isn’t hard, but showing up consistently is.

What We Wasted Time On

Hiring interns early: Big mistake. We weren't ready. They weren't set up for success. It drained energy we didn't have to spare.

Social media: Has been meh. I know better now. I thought I could tweet my way to success. I was wrong.

Burning out: Multiple times. The guilt of only having a boilerplate. The shame of being busy without being productive. We were doing everything but not actually doing something.

Design paralysis: We spent time on things that didn't move the needle.

A Change in Structure

Okike Labs is where it is today, not for a lack of effort but for not enough of it. There were too long many stretches of where nothing was done and we got busy with day job, freelancing gigs and life. That did not help our momentum in any way, if anything we never took what we had seriously.

For most of the first year, things have moved slowly. Some weeks, we'd be in full focus, locked in, building or fixing something. Other weeks, nothing happened. We had weekly check-ins to keep ourselves accountable but sometimes even those felt forced.

Midway through the year, things shifted. What began as a partnership transitioned into a solo operation. It was a mutual, natural shift that came from differing priorities and focus over time.

As the company started to redefine its focus and direction, it became clear that alignment was just as important as execution.

In the early days, we both shared the same vision for what Okike Labs could become. But as months went by, our levels of commitment started to differ. What was once a shared rhythm slowly became uneven. The company needed more consistent attention and direction than our setup could provide.

Now I'm running Okikelabs solo. It wasn't the plan, but it's what was needed.

What I've Learned

A few weeks ago, I had a call with someone who put everything into perspective. We talked about objectives, goals, how to actually think about a business. And here's the surprising part: we've actually been on the right track. Unintentionally, yes, but aligned nonetheless.

From the beginning, I wanted to build niche products for specific user bases and industries. Look at everything we started: Nuxt SaaS Kit, LinkedIn tool for founders doing personal branding, Bookmark tool for ADHD folks, wedding planning tool, short-form video analytics. Every single one was focused on servicing a spcific narrow audience.

Our issue was never vision. Our issue was execution.

If I had to sum up what we learned in this first year, it’s that doing things matters more than planning them. We spent months trying to define what Okike Labs should be — what kind of products we’d build, what niches to explore. But the only real progress came from shipping something, even if small.

I learned that:

• Don't hire until you have systems and revenue to support it.
• Don't force relationships that aren't working.
• Don't chase shiny new ideas when the current one gets hard.
• Social media is a megaphone—useless if you have nothing worth amplifying.
• Marketing isn't a one-time thing. It's a daily grind, and it often feels repetitive. You say the same thing in ten different ways until someone finally listens.
• Don't wait for things to be perfect.
• Finishing is more valuable than starting.

The Small Wins

We paid ourselves from the business for the first time this year. Not much, but it's still a moment worth celebrating. It means something to go from zero to something, even if that something is small

Looking Ahead

Right now, Okike Labs feels like it’s still finding its rhythm. We’re not where we want to be. But at least now, there’s direction. Nuxt SaaS Kit is still making sales albeit slowly. I’m also experimenting with new ideas again.

The point isn’t to chase “the next big thing.” It’s to keep moving, keep building, and figure things out by doing.

If I’m being honest, year one wasn’t special. It was messy, inconsistent, and slower than I hoped. But it was real. At least I know what the issues are and how to fix them, whatever is in my control. And maybe that’s what year one is supposed to be — a long test of whether you’ll still show up when it’s not exciting anymore.

We’re still here. Still building. That’s enough for now.