Hello, I'm Danny.
My full name is Harith Danial, but everyone calls me Danny. Names are simple. Stories aren’t.
I was born into a world of titles and expectations. Both my parents were knighted. We had wealth, politics, and all the symbols of success. But not warmth. Not presence. Most days, I barely saw them. Divorce dragged on for eight years. Power doesn’t always show up at the dinner table.
At nineteen, I packed a bag and left. No backup plan. No savings. Just the conviction that I needed to start again — on my own terms.
My full name is Harith Danial, but everyone calls me Danny. Names are simple. Stories aren’t.
I was born into a world of titles and expectations. Both my parents were knighted. We had wealth, politics, and all the symbols of success. But not warmth. Not presence. Most days, I barely saw them. Divorce dragged on for eight years. Power doesn’t always show up at the dinner table.
At nineteen, I packed a bag and left. No backup plan. No savings. Just the conviction that I needed to start again — on my own terms.
London was cold. I worked as a barista and bartender to survive. Some days I only ate once. I kept to myself. Pride does that to you. But every now and then, someone would notice. A free coffee, an extra meal, a kind word. That kept me going.
London was cold. I worked as a barista and bartender to survive. Some days I only ate once. I kept to myself. Pride does that to you. But every now and then, someone would notice. A free coffee, an extra meal, a kind word. That kept me going.
I studied philosophy, politics, and economics. Everyone told me it was a useless degree. But it taught me how to think. How systems work. How people work. How to survive inside a world not built for you.
Seconds between shifts & studies, I built.
I studied philosophy, politics, and economics. Everyone told me it was a useless degree. But it taught me how to think. How systems work. How people work. How to survive inside a world not built for you.
Seconds between shifts & studies, I built.
First: a metal NFC name card — like Linktree, but physical. I spent months perfecting it. Then never launched. Fear won.
Lesson one: you learn nothing from what you don’t ship.
First: a metal NFC name card — like Linktree, but physical. I spent months perfecting it. Then never launched. Fear won.
Lesson one: you learn nothing from what you don’t ship.
Then: a plant-based meat company. I was deep into veganism. Tempeh was my obsession. Found a brilliant PhD cofounder. We built a prototype that impressed people. Then Nestlé poached him. Just like that.
Lesson two: Co-founders need belief, not just skill. You can’t treat them like labor and expect loyalty. Conviction has to be shared — and earned. That starts with me too. My own belief, my own skin in the game.
Then: a plant-based meat company. I was deep into veganism. Tempeh was my obsession. Found a brilliant PhD cofounder. We built a prototype that impressed people. Then Nestlé poached him. Just like that.
Lesson two: Co-founders need belief, not just skill. You can’t treat them like labor and expect loyalty. Conviction has to be shared — and earned. That starts with me too. My own belief, my own skin in the game.
Next came a fish farm. COVID had hit. Fish prices surged, feed stayed flat. I saw the arbitrage. Found an investor. Took in a cofounder. We built it. Nearly a million tilapia sold in a year. Great numbers. We sold the farm but I owned almost nothing. No capital meant no leverage.
Lesson three: if you don’t own, you’re just labor with a fancy title.
Next came a fish farm. COVID had hit. Fish prices surged, feed stayed flat. I saw the arbitrage. Found an investor. Took in a cofounder. We built it. Nearly a million tilapia sold in a year. Great numbers. We sold the farm but I owned almost nothing. No capital meant no leverage.
Lesson three: if you don’t own, you’re just labor with a fancy title.
Then I tried something different: Everown — a blockchain marketplace for handcrafted goods. Japanese knives, antique wood, pottery passed through generations. It wasn’t just commerce; it was preservation. A bit romantic, maybe even poetic. People loved the idea. Just not enough to fund it. One investor told me, “Some ideas are worth keeping. The right time always comes back around.”
Lesson four: timing matters. So does clarity.
Then I tried something different: Everown — a blockchain marketplace for handcrafted goods. Japanese knives, antique wood, pottery passed through generations. It wasn’t just commerce; it was preservation. A bit romantic, maybe even poetic. People loved the idea. Just not enough to fund it. One investor told me, “Some ideas are worth keeping. The right time always comes back around.”
Lesson four: timing matters. So does clarity.
In 2022 I tried something different: Everown — a blockchain marketplace for handcrafted goods. Japanese knives, antique wood, pottery passed through generations. It wasn’t just commerce; it was preservation. A bit romantic, maybe even poetic. People loved the idea. Just not enough to fund it. One investor told me, “Some ideas are worth keeping. The right time always comes back around.”
Lesson four: timing matters. So does clarity.
But the thing I actually finished — and finished well — was events.
Not corporate expos. Not flashy trade shows. These were raw, real, and alive.
ETHKL23. ETHKL24. ZuThailand. World Computer Day.
Built from scratch. No playbook. Just energy, belief, and a clock ticking down. Tight budgets, long nights, volunteers turned teammates. No excuses — only outcomes. That’s where I learned the most underrated startup skill: execution.
Not everyone has the grit to carry a thing from idea to reality. I didn’t realize it at first, but building those events taught me something I never got from books: how to finish.
It started with ETHKL — an open-source community I was part of since 2018. We had over 200 grassroots meetups. All volunteer-run. At some point, the contributors said, “Let’s do a conference.” But they didn’t know how. They had the vision — not the execution.
But the thing I actually finished — and finished well — was events.
Not corporate expos. Not flashy trade shows. These were raw, real, and alive.
ETHKL23. ETHKL24. ZuThailand. World Computer Day.
Built from scratch. No playbook. Just energy, belief, and a clock ticking down. Tight budgets, long nights, volunteers turned teammates. No excuses — only outcomes. That’s where I learned the most underrated startup skill: execution.
Not everyone has the grit to carry a thing from idea to reality. I didn’t realize it at first, but building those events taught me something I never got from books: how to finish.
It started with ETHKL — an open-source community I was part of since 2018. We had over 200 grassroots meetups. All volunteer-run. At some point, the contributors said, “Let’s do a conference.” But they didn’t know how. They had the vision — not the execution.
I agreed to build the first one with them. We expected 400. 800 showed up. The next year, with Devcon around the corner, I went bigger — ETHKL24 at KLCC, Malaysia’s most iconic venue. 1,500 people came. 250 hackers. It became the largest blockchain event in the country.
Momentum followed. Someone who had spoke at ETHKL24 brought me to co-organize World Computer Day in Bangkok — 3,500 attendees. Then came ZuThailand, a one-month crypto residency. Through it all, I realized it wasn’t events I loved. It was the process — the timelines, the constraints, the startup energy. The building.
I agreed to build the first one with them. We expected 400. 800 showed up. The next year, with Devcon around the corner, I went bigger — ETHKL24 at KLCC, Malaysia’s most iconic venue. 1,500 people came. 250 hackers. It became the largest blockchain event in the country.
Momentum followed. Someone who had spoke at ETHKL24 brought me to co-organize World Computer Day in Bangkok — 3,500 attendees. Then came ZuThailand, a one-month crypto residency. Through it all, I realized it wasn’t events I loved. It was the process — the timelines, the constraints, the startup energy. The building.
Momentum followed. A person who attended my event brought me in to co-organize World Computer Day in Bangkok — 3,500 attendees. Then came ZuThailand, a one-month crypto residency.
Through it all, I realized it wasn’t events I loved. It was the process — the timelines, the constraints, the startup energy. The building.
Momentum followed. A person who attended my event brought me in to co-organize World Computer Day in Bangkok — 3,500 attendees. Then came ZuThailand, a one-month crypto residency.
Through it all, I realized it wasn’t events I loved. It was the process — the timelines, the constraints, the startup energy. The building.
So I did what any founder would do: I automated what I could. Airtable for operations, CMS for the site, leaner teams, more leverage, subcontractors where it made sense. ETHKL25 will return this year, but I’m less involved now — just structure and vision. The rest is handled.
So I did what any founder would do: I automated what I could. Airtable for operations, CMS for the site, leaner teams, more leverage, subcontractors where it made sense. ETHKL25 will return this year, but I’m less involved now — just structure and vision. The rest is handled.
With events running on their own, I finally had room to breathe. I traveled more. Slowed down. In quiet moments between cities, I started noticing something I had overlooked for years: stories. Not the ones told on stage, but the ones that lived in glances, objects, places — things you could almost miss.
Photos started to mean more. Not the perfect ones. The raw ones. Snapshots of something real. Moments that didn’t try too hard, but stuck with you anyway.
I didn’t know it yet, but that’s when the idea began to take root.
With events running on their own, I finally had room to breathe. I traveled more. Slowed down. In quiet moments between cities, I started noticing something I had overlooked for years: stories. Not the ones told on stage, but the ones that lived in glances, objects, places — things you could almost miss.
Photos started to mean more. Not the perfect ones. The raw ones. Snapshots of something real. Moments that didn’t try too hard, but stuck with you anyway.
I didn’t know it yet, but that’s when the idea began to take root.
Then I met Kenk (Co-founder & Now Best Friend). A quiet coder at a pop-up city in Thailand. Soft-spoken. Thoughtful. We were cooking dinner when one night, we decided to build something. The original plan was to revive Everown for fun. We wanted to take a photo of a craft object, add provenance, and mint it to the chain. But the first photo we accidentally snapped was of my ear. We laughed. Laughed and minted it as a joke. Listed it for fun. Someone bought it.
A JPEG. And the beginning of something we hadn’t expected.
Then I met Kenk (Co-founder & Now Best Friend). A quiet coder at a pop-up city in Thailand. Soft-spoken. Thoughtful. We were cooking dinner when one night, we decided to build something. The original plan was to revive Everown for fun. We wanted to take a photo of a craft object, add provenance, and mint it to the chain. But the first photo we accidentally snapped was of my ear. We laughed. Laughed and minted it as a joke. Listed it for fun. Someone bought it.
A JPEG. And the beginning of something we hadn’t expected.
The original idea for JPEG was simple. What if people could snap moments in real time, mint them, and add details and a price?
Not carefully curated photos, but spontaneous ones. Something funny, weird, beautiful, or real. A living image, captured and preserved forever on the internet.
The original idea for JPEG was simple. What if people could snap moments in real time, mint them, and add details and a price?
Not carefully curated photos, but spontaneous ones. Something funny, weird, beautiful, or real. A living image, captured and preserved forever on the internet.
But it quickly pivoted. JPEG grew into a game. A marketplace. A pulse of collective speculation. We tested bonding curves. Played with AI. Argued over UX.
Rewrote the rules again and again. But the soul stayed the same: create something worth remembering.
But it quickly pivoted. JPEG grew into a game. A marketplace. A pulse of collective speculation. We tested bonding curves. Played with AI. Argued over UX.
Rewrote the rules again and again. But the soul stayed the same: create something worth remembering.
Now JPEG is a social game. Daily photo prompts. You snap a moment. It goes into the pool. People buy what they believe will win. The top JPEG takes the prize.
Now JPEG is a social game. Daily photo prompts. You snap a moment. It goes into the pool. People buy what they believe will win. The top JPEG takes the prize.
People I respect have seen it and get it. Investors are coming in. And what we’re building taps into something I believe deeply: the best thing about the internet is that it’s fun. That’s what made Web2 social work — user-generated content, spontaneous creation, expression without overthinking.
People I respect have seen it and get it. Investors are coming in. And what we’re building taps into something I believe deeply: the best thing about the internet is that it’s fun. That’s what made Web2 social work — user-generated content, spontaneous creation, expression without overthinking.
I don’t know where this ends. I’ve learned not to trust certainty. But I trust this — the process, the people, the work.
And maybe, that’s enough.
I don’t know where this ends. I’ve learned not to trust certainty. But I trust this — the process, the people, the work.
And maybe, that’s enough.
This is me — the version built from scratch. I’ve made peace with where I came from, and I’ve learned how to build from nothing. I don’t have all the answers, but I know how to keep going. I know how to care, how to ship, how to fall and still show up. It’s been a journey — and maybe, you’ll be part of where it goes next.
This is me — the version built from scratch. I’ve made peace with where I came from, and I’ve learned how to build from nothing. I don’t have all the answers, but I know how to keep going. I know how to care, how to ship, how to fall and still show up. It’s been a journey — and maybe, you’ll be part of where it goes next.
So that's me :)
harithhanaffi@gmail.com