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*TRIGGER WARNING* I’m gripping the rail of a fifteenth-floor balcony. Debt is crushing me. I’ve lost everything. I rehearse the fall. Will I clip another balcony? Smash a car roof? Hit the pavement and wake up broken or never wake up at all? I’m terrified of heights, yet the drop feels easier than another day of shame. Friends have drifted. Family hover, already carrying my weight, I can’t load them with more. One thread keeps me there: Mum’s climb back from her own depression. Throwing her victory away would undo everything she fought for. So I step back. Therapy. Meditation. Tiny, stubborn breaths. From that edge, an idea takes root: If I can hurt this deeply in silence, so can millions of others. That thought becomes Plumm, a place where no one has to white-knuckle a railing alone. If my story hits a nerve, talk to someone. If you can’t talk, text. If you can’t text, breathe and hold on. I’m still here. You can be, too. Today marks the end of Mental Health Awareness Week but let it not be the end of the conversation.

Steven Bartlett recently shared a perspective that stopped me in my tracks. He argued that remote-first companies might be unintentionally stunting the growth of young professionals. That without an office, juniors miss the magic of “osmosis” learning through observation, spontaneous feedback, and just being around others. As someone who started life with no formal education, built businesses from the ground up, and now leads a fully remote-first company, I get where he’s coming from. I learned by being in rooms I wasn’t invited to. I grew by watching people smarter than me solve problems. I survived because someone took the time to mentor me often in person, not on Slack. But I’ve also seen something else. Remote work can work brilliantly if it’s designed with care. The real challenge isn’t the location. It’s the lack of intentionality. Young people don’t fail because they’re remote. They struggle when we assume growth will happen on its own. I’ve seen incredible early-career talent flourish remotely when we put the right support in place. That means we have: Structured feedback and mentorship Consistent touchpoints (not just task lists) Opportunities for connection even across borders It’s not about romanticising the office or rejecting remote. It’s about building systems that meet people where they are and help them thrive. Let’s also remember: for some, the flexibility of remote work isn’t a perk, it’s a lifeline. For their mental health. For caregiving responsibilities. For access to careers they’d never otherwise reach. So no, remote-first isn’t setting people up to fail. Neglecting human connection is. This is our moment to rebuild culture with intention not just recreate offices online.

Two young people in the UK will die by suicide today.     That’s ~850 bright futures erased every year, the #1 killer of young people, outstripping road accidents, cancer, anything.   Pause on that. Imagine an entire lecture hall emptied, every single year, by quiet desperation.   Now the uncomfortable question:   When we lose a teammate, do we grieve the person… or race to raise the requisition to refill their seat?   Most companies will sign off five-figure recruitment costs within hours, yet “Can we increase the mental-health budget?” still triggers procurement reviews, board decks, quarter-end delays. The admin to back-fill a role is smoother than the path to get someone help before crisis hits.   World Mental Health Week is trending. Company feeds are full of pastel graphics and “check in on a friend” posts. Nice sentiment, until you realise checking in without backing it up with real support is just another task on someone else’s overflowing to-do list.   If you lead people, here’s what meaningful commitment looks like:   → Funding therapy, coaching, and crisis lines with the same urgency as you fund laptops and software licences. → Making those services instant, confidential, and stigma-free, no forms, no waiting lists, no asking permission. → Measuring uptake and outcomes, not just ticking a wellbeing box on an ESG slide. → Talking openly about mental health from the boardroom down, so silence doesn’t become policy.   If you’ll spend £30k to replace someone after tragedy, spend a fraction of that to keep them alive.   Two young lives are on the line today. Let’s make sure tomorrow still has their names on it.

The future of HR isn’t HR It’s people-first operations, built with smarter tools and way more humanity. Because honestly? Most HR teams aren’t short on effort, they’re short on time, context, and the right systems. Here’s what’s actually valuable right now (and what I wish I had much earlier): 1. Time back for HR There was a point where 40% of my week was approvals and fixing broken processes. → Value = automating the repetitive stuff so HR can do the work that actually matters. 2. Support that’s easy to use We can’t keep asking people to jump through hoops to access help. → Value = wellbeing tools that live inside the flow of work not behind a hotline no one calls. 3. Early signals, not late surprises I'm not going to lie, even I have been blindsided before, culture looking fine on paper, people struggling under the surface. → Value = check-ins, anonymous feedback, and mood data you can actually use. 4. One view of your people Juggling platforms for leave, onboarding, docs, wellbeing, reviews... it gets messy fast. → Value = clarity. One dashboard. One place. Everything in sync. Plumm was built out of frustration. Frustration with tools that added work instead of removing it. With wellbeing being treated as an “extra.” With good people burning out quietly. We’re trying to change that by making it easier to support your team and still get your actual job done. Because when people feel seen, safe, and supported? They stick around. They do better work. And honestly... everyone wins.

1 in 3 tech founders in the UK wasn’t born here. But you wouldn’t know it. Not when you’re sitting in a scrappy rented flat, filling out visa forms and trying to open a business account with no clue what HMRC even stands for. I remember thinking I must be the only one doing this. That I was mad to even try. Turns out, I wasn’t. And neither are you. Starting up as an immigrant is different. You’re not just building a business, you’re learning how the system works as you go. You waste days on government websites. You second-guess every form. You chase people for help and still end up guessing. Everything takes longer. Everything feels harder. And no one hands you a playbook. That’s why I started the IBC Accelerator. Not a shiny bootcamp. Just real support for people like us. Inside, we cover the stuff no one explains properly → How to register the right legal entity, → How to structure your visa around your business → How to set up with HMRC and get your finances in order → How to raise money as a immigrant founder → How to build local credibility when you don’t have a network You’ll be learning from people who’ve moved to the UK and built businesses here. And you’ll be surrounded by others doing the same, facing the same challenges, asking the same questions, and moving forward together. If you’ve been trying to build in the UK and you’re tired of doing it alone, this is for you. Join the waitlist: 👉 https://lnkd.in/ePnFhJUc I’ll see you on the other side!

Most people chase success. Raj Thiruchelvarajah chased meaning. And it led him to space. Literally. He’s the co-founder of Hytro, a wearable blood flow restriction product used by Premier League athletes, Tour de France riders, and NASA astronauts. But this isn’t a startup fairytale. It’s a story about pressure. Not just physical but emotional, cultural and existential. Before all this, Raj spent 16 years doing what was expected. PwC. Barclays. Consulting. The “good South Asian boy” path. Safe, stable, successful. Until it wasn’t. He left it behind to build something real, something that made him feel alive. And then came the hard part. Here’s what stood out from our conversation on Immigrants Building Companies: → Belonging isn’t always given. Sometimes you have to build it. → Empathy is the edge, especially when you’ve always felt like the outsider. → Purpose won’t make the risk smaller. But it makes the pain count. → You can lead with heart and be taken seriously. And the line that stuck with me? “Stress is a privilege. Because it means what you're doing matters.” This isn’t just about building tech. It’s about breaking patterns and betting on who you really are. 👇 Full episode in the comments.

Is the UK quietly turning away from one of its greatest economic advantages? The UK has always been more than just a country. It’s been a launchpad for ideas, for innovation, for ambition. One of its greatest strengths? The way it attracts talent from around the world. People come not just to live here, but to build here. To start businesses, create jobs, solve problems and shape industries. Almost 40% of the UK’s 100 fastest-growing companies were founded by those born elsewhere. That isn’t coincidence, it’s what happens when a country combines world-class infrastructure, openness, and a deeply entrepreneurial spirit. And that’s exactly why I chose to come here. I didn’t just want to move somewhere. I wanted to move somewhere I could grow. Somewhere that values hard work and fresh ideas. Somewhere with a sense of fairness, of possibility and a little magic in the air. That’s exactly what I found in the UK. But since 2024, things are shifting. Migration numbers have dropped. Visa routes are changing. And while we’re still very much a nation that values enterprise, there’s a risk we start closing doors that once made us special. And so the question becomes: Are we still designing for growth or accidentally leaning away from it? Because in a world where talent is mobile, opportunity goes where it's welcomed. And the UK has always been brilliant at making people feel like they belong. Let’s not lose sight of that. I came here to build. And I still believe, wholeheartedly, that the UK is one of the best places on Earth to do just that. But even our greatest advantages need intentional care. What do you think? I’d love to hear your view. Especially if you see it differently!

Reality check, 2025 so far: 50,000 tech jobs gone in just four months. 23,400 of those in April, this is the sharpest spike since 2020. Among those still in roles: 74% report a drop in productivity. 58% struggle with Sunday night anxiety. I’ve been through 3 pivots, 1 pandemic, and now an AI arms race. And what I’ve learned is this: Our value isn’t tied to a title. It’s tied to our ability to learn, adapt, and care. The data doesn’t show: - The aftershocks of survivor guilt, especially remote. It erodes trust quietly. - The invisible churn, high performers brushing up CVs don’t show in headcount reports. - That compassion isn’t soft. It’s a recovery strategy. Teams who talk honestly about uncertainty bounce back faster. My approach in these turbulent times: 1. Radical transparency. Share the runway, the risks and the rationale before the rumours do. 2. Weekly pulse check-ins. One question: “How’s your capacity, skills, energy, headspace this week?” Because when uncertainty is the default, silence is not the strategy.

“The thing that keeps coming back to me, that I really hate, is finding out too late.” He made it to Goldman Sachs. Visa? Sorted. Salary? Six figures. Parents? Proud. The immigrant dream? Achieved. But then… He walked away. Not because he failed. But because he refused to ignore the quiet killer: Finding out too late. Meet Arnold Fomété, co-founder of Unbound, a startup on a mission to make preventative health actually work. His story begins in Cameroon, moves through South Africa, where racism forced him to hide under a bed… …and lands in London, where he’s building something that could save your life or someone you love. In this episode of Immigrants Building Companies, we dive into: - Why we don’t take our health seriously until it’s too late - His own journey from burnout to building something meaningful - Why the NHS can’t fix this alone - And how being a Third Culture Kid helped him feel at home everywhere and nowhere This one’s personal. It’s powerful. And it’s not just about building companies, it’s about changing culture. 👇 Full episode in the comments.

Let’s stop pretending global teams are easy. They’re not.   Everyone wants to go global until time zones clash, no one’s online when you need them, and your project dies in a Slack thread. Remote isn’t freedom without structure. It’s chaos in disguise.   At Plumm, we’ve got team members in the UK, India, and South Africa. It works but only because we’ve made tough decisions early.   We serve UK clients. So we work UK hours. No “core hour” illusions. No async fairy tales. Just actual alignment. That’s not micromanagement. That’s clarity.   And the surprising part? A lot of people prefer it. They get their mornings back for family, errands, breathing room and log on when the real collaboration happens.   And holidays? Every country has its own calendar. If we followed them all, we’d be off every other week. So we simplified it. Everyone at Plumm gets the same number of days take them when they matter most to YOU. Global teams don’t collapse because people are in different places. They collapse because no one wants to lead with structure.   Go global, sure. Just don’t expect it to work if you’re afraid to draw a line.

The system wasn’t built for immigrant founders. We weren’t supposed to win.   The statistics already counted us out before we started: • 90% of startups fail. • 90% of funding goes to people who don’t look or sound like us. • 90% of rooms don’t expect us to stay.   Good.   We’re used to building in places where no one expects anything from us. That’s where we learned to outwork, outthink, and outlast. You don’t scare easy when you’ve already rebuilt your life once.   At Immigrants Building Companies Accelerator, we don’t teach you how to fit into a system that never planned for you. We teach you how to beat it and build something too powerful to ignore.   Get access to real strategies, real community, and real tools to raise money, navigate visas, and scale your startup in the UK. This isn’t about surviving the stats. It’s about rewriting them.   If you’re tired of playing by someone else’s rules and ready to build on your own terms, the waitlist is open.   Join the waitlist for IBC Accelerator: https://lnkd.in/ekfkygfw

Everything feels like it’s moving faster than you. Other teams scaling quicker. Other founders sounding sharper. Other companies seemingly getting it “right”. I’ve felt that. And if you’re building something, chances are, you have too. But today, I stepped back. From our first hire in South Africa… to a full team, our own space, and a growing presence, it made me pause and really take in how far we’ve come. Not without missteps. Not without learning the hard way. But with quiet, steady, deliberate progress. And here’s what I keep coming back to: 1. You’re not behind. You’re building at the pace that works for you. 2. Comparison is a distraction. Most of it’s just noise. 3. Reflection isn’t soft. It’s strategic. It reminds you what’s working and what really matters. We’ve had our challenges. We’ve grown through them. And we’re STILL here. STILL moving. STILL building something that lasts. I’ll be spending the next few days with our team here, taking it all in, reconnecting with what we’ve built and where we’re headed. And to remind ourselves: We’re not behind. We’re becoming.

My first startup never launched.   I was 14, sweating in a Dubai garage. We thought we’d change how people discovered cities.   We didn’t. But I started building, and never really stopped.   That instinct followed me to the UK. A place where founders move fast and don’t wait for perfect.   → 60% of startups already use AI → Greentech jumped from prototype to boardroom priority → Visas, grants, and startup-friendly rules are speeding things up   For all the immigrant founders out there: You don’t need to have it all figured out. Build before it’s polished. Launch before it’s perfect. Keep moving, that’s the edge.   Not technical? Good. Focus on what people need. Spot the gaps. Pull in the right talent.   There’s never been a better time to build in the UK.   Still waiting for permission?   This is it. Join the waitlist for Immigrants Building Companies Accelerator A high-impact accelerator that helps immigrant founders raise, grow, and scale in the UK. Mindset. Strategy. Community. Everything I wish I had when I started.   Join the waitlist: https://lnkd.in/ePnFhJUc

Growing up as an immigrant means growing up asking for permission. “Can I stay?” “Can I study here?” “Can I work here?” Even when I was building Plumm, I was waiting for permission without realising it. Permission to call yourself a founder. Permission to show up confidently. Permission to take up space.   I have to let you in on something...   In entrepreneurship, no one gives you permission. You claim it.   You claim it every time you send that first invoice. You claim it every time you introduce yourself as a founder even when you’re your only employee. You claim it every time you bet on yourself before anyone else does. That’s why I built the Immigrants Building Companies Accelerator. To help people like us stop waiting and start building confidently and loudly, in the UK. - You’ll be surrounded by a community of immigrant founders who get it. - You’ll learn directly from experts every week in live sessions. - You’ll get the frameworks, the mindset shifts, the legal setup, the funding know-how. Visa process? Covered. Accountability? Baked in. No theory-only nonsense, this is about doing, not just dreaming. The waitlist is now open: https://lnkd.in/eeuyTNwt Let’s build without asking for permission.

Paying for therapy should be as unquestioned as paying for laptops. When someone joins your company, you give them a laptop without thinking twice. Why? Because it’s a tool, essential for them to do their job. Mental health support should be treated the same way. In high-growth teams, the pressure is real. Uncertainty, imposter syndrome, burnout these aren’t edge cases. They’re the default for many. And yet, we still treat therapy like a luxury, something you get access to only after things start to fall apart. At Plumm, we flipped that thinking. We see mental wellbeing as infrastructure. Not a perk. Not a “nice to have.” Not something that gets buried in a benefits deck. Because a laptop helps someone do their job. But therapy? That helps someone keep showing up as a human, focused, resilient, and emotionally supported. If you're leading a team, here’s the shift: Don’t wait for a crisis. Build support in from day one. Normalise access, not just awareness. Treat mental wellbeing as mission-critical because it is. Tools help us perform. Therapy helps us sustain. And in today’s world, both are non-negotiable.

The UK startup scene saved my life. That’s not a punchline. It’s my truth. Before I landed here, I’d lost everything... Money, stability, even the will to keep going. I stood on the edge of a balcony more times than I care to admit, wondering if there was a way out. But something in me refused to quit. I moved to the UK with nothing but a belief that if I could just build one thing that mattered, maybe I could rewrite the story. And I did. Today, I run a mental wellbeing and HR startup that’s raised millions, supports thousands, and employs people smarter than I am. Not because I had a degree. Not because I had connections. Because the UK gave me a shot and I outworked the odds. Here’s the thing they don’t tell you: The UK is quietly becoming one of the world’s most powerful startup ecosystems. AI? On fire. FinTech? Leading. HealthTech + ClimateTech? Booming. Policy, funding, and talent? Better than ever. It’s not perfect. But for immigrant founders like me, it’s a place where the hustle actually pays off. If you're building with purpose and willing to bleed for it, the UK will back you. To the ones starting from zero: I see you. I was you. And this country just might be your turning point too.

Designed the Ghana Stock Exchange website. Made Forbes 30 Under 30. And no one cared. That’s what met Sydney Sam when he moved to London. Not funding. Not applause. Not even recognition. “I had people bringing me coffee in Ghana. Here, even interns asked: ‘Wait… who are you again?’” Sydney didn’t just move countries, he had to start again. As a founder. A husband. A father. All while building a global tech platform from scratch. This week on Immigrants Building Companies, our episode is about what they don’t show in founder highlight reels: → Starting from zero when your resume screams success → The quiet racism of being overlooked → Raising a family in a new country while raising a company → Turning discomfort into direction → And building a creative outsourcing platform that supports 100,000+ African freelancers He built Workspace Global to do what others won’t: Pay talent fairly. Automate the stress. And give startups design and dev on demand for $300/month. This is for every immigrant founder who had to rebuild credibility. For every underestimated operator building in silence. For anyone chasing purpose over applause. 👇 Full episode in the comments.

I’ve waited almost 2 years to write this post. Today I finally get to announce what I have been building.   I’m launching the Immigrants Building Companies Accelerator. Because building a business is hard...   But building one as an immigrant founder in a country where you don’t understand the rules? It’s brutal.   When I landed in the UK, I didn’t have a network. No one to call. No one to check if I was filling out the right forms. Just me, a £3 meal deal, and a lot of Google searches that led nowhere helpful.   I didn’t grow up with British systems. I didn’t know what “proof of funds” meant or why opening a business bank account felt like trying to decode ancient text. I’d never dealt with income tax before and now I had to learn a foreign system just to survive   When I spoke to lawyers, it felt like gibberish. When I met with accountants, I had no idea what they were talking about.   On top of that? I didn’t know what was funny and what wasn’t. Why did everyone here always talk about the weather? I was constantly reading the room and second-guessing myself.   And then came COVID. And the loneliness doubled.   That’s when I realised I wasn’t just missing information. I was missing a community. Someone who got it. Someone who could say: “You’re not crazy. It really is this hard and here’s how to get through it.”   The UK has been an incredible place to start this journey, it's full of opportunity, ambition, and support.  And I'm not just talking about the country... The people here have been incredibly welcoming and supportive  The most open-minded group I’ve had the privilege to meet on this journey   The UK gave me the platform to build Plumm.    Plumm now serves tens of thousands of people globally. We’re valued in the multi-millions. We have hired people from all across the world.  But none of that happened until I figured out the system and stopped trying to do it alone.   And I also know firsthand how this country can change your life, if you know the routes to follow   That’s why I’ve built the IBC Accelerator  Not a course. Not a coaching programme. A real playbook for immigrant founders in the UK built by someone who’s actually lived it.   What you get: → Step-by-step legal and immigration guidance  → Weekly live sessions on strategies to grow and pivot in the UK from people who know it inside out → Fundraising tools that don’t require a warm intro or polished accent → Resilience and mindset support, because this journey will test you → A community of immigrant founders who’ve been where you are and are building anyway   Today’s not just a launch. It’s a full-circle moment.   If you needed a sign, THIS IS IT.   👉 The IBC Accelerator is now live. Join here: https://lnkd.in/ePuwY9WZ   PS. If you’ve already rebuilt your life or thinking of it, you’re more ready than you think. Let’s build companies and futures we’re proud of.

We paused our top performer. On purpose. Not for burnout. To prevent it. Six weeks. One designer. A total rebuild of our platform site. She handled design, UX, UI, animation, accessibility, CMS, the lot. Delivered quietly. Perfectly and way ahead of schedule. She didn’t ask for a break. But we gave her one. We booked a spa. Not as a perk. Not to be nice. To prove a point. Because while 83% of UK tech workers report stress levels leading to burnout, most companies still reward overextension, then offer time off after the damage is done. That’s backwards. Recovery isn’t a reward. It’s a design choice. We don’t want people running on fumes and calling it culture. We want high trust, high performance, and early signals. So when someone goes above and beyond, we don’t wait for the wobble. We intervene while the wheels are still turning. Noticing isn’t a nice-to-have. It’s how you stay in the game. If your only move is “thanks,” you’re not building a team, you’re burning one.

“It’s not rude to leave. It’s rude to make someone stay and waste their time.” — Elon Musk   Controversial? Maybe. Necessary? Absolutely.   At Plumm, we’ve borrowed that principle and it’s transformed how we work. We’ve stopped treating meetings like status rituals. And started treating them like time investments.   Because let’s be honest: Most meetings are theatre. Half the people in the room don’t need to be there. The agenda’s vague. The outcome? Usually… another meeting.   So here’s what we changed: → If you don’t know why you’re in the room, you don’t have to stay. → If a decision can be made over Slack, it should be. → If a meeting has no agenda, it doesn’t happen. This isn’t about ego. It’s about efficiency. About trusting smart people to manage their time, not asking them to perform presence. People say they want deep work and autonomy ... But then they let their calendars turn into performance reviews.   At Plumm, we’d rather see results than hear updates. We don’t track hours. We track outcomes. And shockingly, when you cut 80% of your meetings, people get more done. Better. Faster.   Yes, it’s uncomfortable at first. Especially if you were taught that showing up is half the job. But we’re not here to fill time. We’re here to build. And that means protecting the one thing we can’t replace: focus.   So the next time you send a meeting invite, ask yourself is this a conversation? Or a habit?