Let me take you back to the thrilling days when ZooBC was more than just an idea—it was a bold, ambitious project on the cusp of transforming the blockchain landscape. For a fleeting moment, I was a bit of a blockchain celebrity, one of those rare people who knew how to build a Layer 1 blockchain from the ground up. And I wanted to do it right—no ICO shortcuts, just pure innovation.
We were a boutique consulting firm with a team of around 30 developers and another 20 or so creative minds in design, marketing, and beyond. When the pandemic hit, I decided to personally fund the development of ZooBC. We envisioned something extraordinary: low-power nodes that could run on Raspberry Pis, a protocol where every active node shared in rewards, and core features like escrow and multi-signature support built right in. We even found a way to charge rent for on-chain data, ensuring that nodes would be fairly compensated for the storage they provided.
It was exhilarating. We were on the brink of launching something that could genuinely push the boundaries of blockchain technology. We had a beautiful wallet, a sleek block explorer, and a protocol that was packed with innovative features. For a while, it felt like we were on top of the world.
But then came the unraveling. We had assumed that the people buying nodes would know how to run them. They didn’t. We ended up having to manage the nodes ourselves, which meant that the whole dream of decentralization was slipping through our fingers. Month by month, the launch date slipped further away. I poured more and more of my own money into the project, selling off my own crypto holdings at prices that now seem laughable, just to keep the team paid and the lights on.
By mid-2021, I was broke. Not just broke—I was emotionally exhausted and deeply disappointed. The project that could have changed everything never made it to the finish line. I felt betrayed by those who didn’t share the urgency or the vision—who seemed to drag things out rather than delivering. In the end, I was left with nothing. The project didn’t launch, the funds were gone, and I was left picking up the pieces of a dream that almost was.
It’s a story that still stings. It’s a tale of soaring excitement and crushing disappointment. But I haven’t given up. I still believe in the vision of ZooBC, and this time, I’m determined to rebuild it on my own terms. Maybe the best innovations come from a mix of excitement and a little bit of heartache.
