It started with a simple observation that haunted me: the tools meant to connect us often leave us feeling more isolated than ever. Two years ago, I embarked on what I thought would be a straightforward journey to build something that would genuinely bring communities together.
I was spectacularly wrong about the "straightforward" part.
What followed were three major pivots, countless sleepless nights debugging code that seemed to mock my very existence, and yes—one increasingly grumpy husband who watched me disappear into spreadsheets at 2 AM, only to emerge with wild theories about community dynamics and the social graph theory of loneliness.
"The pivots weren't failures; they were refinements."
The first pivot taught us that technology without human insight is just expensive noise. We'd built beautiful dashboards that told people what they already knew: some days, their communities were more engaged than others. Revolutionary stuff, really.
The second pivot showed us that communities don't need more tools—they need better understanding. We shifted from analytics to insights, from reporting to recommending. Better, but still missing something fundamental.
The third pivot? That's when we discovered the power of AI not to replace human connection, but to amplify it. To see patterns that humans miss, to suggest interventions that actually work, to understand the subtle dynamics that make some communities thrive while others wither.
"We're not building AI to replace human intuition—we're building it to supercharge it."
Along the way, we discovered something unexpected: the loneliness epidemic isn't just about individual isolation—it's about community fragmentation. The tools we use to connect are creating silos. WhatsApp groups that start strong and fade. Online communities that never quite gel. Professional networks that feel transactional.
But within this challenge, we found our purpose. Hlomo doesn't just analyze communities—it understands them. It doesn't just report on engagement—it suggests ways to deepen it. It doesn't just track sentiment—it helps community leaders respond to it meaningfully.
Today, Hlomo isn't just the product of those two intense years—it's the distillation of every lesson learned, every mistake made, every breakthrough moment that emerged from what felt like chaos. It's research-backed, methodologically sound, and proven effective.
And yes, my husband is significantly less grumpy now. Mostly because the code actually works, and I no longer emerge from my office at dawn muttering about edge cases and API rate limits.
The story isn't over—it's just beginning. Every community we help strengthen, every connection we help deepen, every moment of genuine human interaction we help facilitate adds another chapter to this story.