"The Boy Who Failed Forward

People used to say Rayan was always doing something dumb. He heard it from his teachers, his cousins, and even his friends sometimes. If there was a way to mess something up, somehow, Rayan would find it. But he never saw it that way. In his mind, he was just trying—trying to figure things out, trying to learn, trying to make something work.

The first time he tried to make money, he was 11. He set up a lemonade stand like every other kid, but he wanted his to be “different.” So, he added chili powder to make it “spicy lemonade.” His first customer spit it out in horror and told his parents. He ended up drinking three glasses himself so the tray wouldn’t look so full. He got a stomach ache, made zero sales, and swore he’d never sell drinks again.

At 13, Rayan started sketching cartoon characters and photocopying them to sell to his classmates. The art was decent, but he priced them way too high. One kid bought a drawing for five bucks, then told everyone it was a scam. Sales stopped the next day. Rayan just shrugged, kept sketching in private, and thought maybe art wasn’t the way.

By the time he was 16, he was knee-deep in YouTube tutorials about making money online. He tried to flip sneakers but didn’t know the difference between real and fake brands. He sold two pairs of knock-offs before a furious buyer called him out on social media. His PayPal got blocked, and his parents found out. That was the first time he really thought maybe he just wasn’t cut out for success.

But failure didn’t sit well with him. It stung, sure, but it also made him itch with ideas. He’d spend nights just staring at the ceiling thinking, “What did I do wrong?” Then, he started writing it all down. A little spiral notebook filled up fast with notes like:

* *Don’t sell something you haven’t used yourself.*

* *Double check sources.*

* *Customer experience is everything.*

* *Never lie—even by accident.*

That notebook became his guide.

After high school, he skipped college—not because he didn’t get in, but because he didn’t want to sit in lectures anymore. He wanted to *do* things, even if they didn’t work. His parents weren’t thrilled, but he promised to get a part-time job and keep trying.

He worked at a small electronics shop, mostly stocking shelves and cleaning up. It was boring, until he noticed something strange. Customers would come in, ask about smart home gadgets—smart bulbs, speakers, cameras—but then leave confused. Most didn’t buy anything because they had no idea how to use them.

That’s when it clicked.

What if he helped people *use* the tech, instead of just selling it?

He borrowed a small amount from his uncle, printed some flyers, and built a cheap website. He called the service **“HomeGenie”**—a simple offer: “We install smart home devices and teach you how to use them.” His first job was for a retired couple who had bought a smart thermostat but couldn’t figure out how to connect it. Rayan took three hours to do a one-hour job, messed up the Wi-Fi settings, and had to come back the next day to fix it.

But he apologized, fixed everything, and didn’t charge extra. They referred him to their neighbors.

And just like that, the ball started rolling.

He made mistakes in the early months—lots of them. Once, he accidentally reset someone’s entire router and wiped out their home office settings. Another time, he installed a doorbell cam upside down. But he always owned up to it, learned fast, and kept going.

He hired two friends, trained them, and slowly built a team. They expanded to three neighborhoods, then five. By the time he was 27, HomeGenie had over 20 employees, three service vans, and partnerships with two national tech retailers. The boy who couldn’t sell lemonade was now the CEO of a seven-figure company.

One day, during a local business award ceremony, someone asked him, “What’s the biggest thing you’ve learned on your journey?”

He laughed, not arrogantly, but like someone who still couldn’t believe it worked out.

“I learned that failure isn’t what stops you,” he said. “Quitting is. Every single mistake I made taught me something I needed to know. I failed my way into success.”

And maybe that’s what made Rayan different. Not talent, not genius—but his stubborn refusal to let his mistakes be the end of the story.