Press17 Dec 20254 min read
Our collaboration with Injini - tech startup mentoring
Mentoring early-stage tech founders through Injini: what a decade of enterprise delivery is actually worth to a team still hunting its first product, and what the studio takes back from the room.

Fabio leads Touchfoundry, championing digital assets that perform commercially and not just look good.
The first thing you learn mentoring early-stage founders is how little of your hard-won playbook survives contact with their reality. I arrived at my first Injini session carrying a decade of enterprise delivery - governance instincts, roadmap frameworks, the whole toolkit - and sat across from a two-person team whose entire question was whether to spend their last few months of runway on feature A or feature B. The toolkit stayed in the bag, and we spent the hour on the only framework that fit: which choice teaches you fastest whether anyone will pay.
Injini, for those who haven't crossed paths with them, run one of the more serious startup support programmes in the country's edtech and skills space, and when they invited us to mentor through their programme it was an easy yes - partly because the mission is worth anyone's time, and partly (more selfishly) because I suspected the studio would get as much out of the room as we put in. Both suspicions have held up.
What enterprise experience is actually worth to a startup
The honest answer is: not the processes, and not the war stories either - a founder burning runway doesn't need to hear how a bank ships software. What transfers is the pattern library underneath. A decade of watching products succeed and fail at scale gives you a fairly reliable nose for which risks are real and which are anxiety, and most of the value I can add in a session is triage: you're worried about the wrong thing, the thing that kills companies like yours is over here, and it's testable for a fraction of what you were about to spend.
The other transferable asset is permission. Founders inside an accelerator are marinating in advice, most of it pointing at more (more features, more polish, more platform), and sometimes the most useful thing a person with grey-haired delivery credentials can say is that the scrappy version is the correct version - that the enterprise product they're comparing themselves to spent years being embarrassing first, and that shipping the small honest thing next month beats architecting the great thing for a customer who hasn't been proven to exist.
Half of mentoring is triage. The other half is permission.
What the studio takes back
The traffic isn't one-way, which is the part I under-estimated. Spending time with teams who have no budget, no brand and no safety net is a recalibration - they make decisions in an afternoon that better-resourced organisations would committee for a quarter, and they treat constraints as design inputs rather than blockers, because they have no other option. You walk out of those sessions and back into your own studio asking uncomfortable, useful questions about which of your own ceremonies actually earn their keep.
It also keeps our first-principles muscles honest. Enterprise work can quietly become pattern-matching (we've seen this shape before, apply the known solution), and an hour with a founder whose product fits no known shape forces you back to fundamentals - who is the customer, what do they do today, what would have to be true. Those are exactly the questions our discovery work runs on, and asking them somewhere with zero scaffolding sharpens how we ask them everywhere else.
There's a longer conversation to be had about what the local tech ecosystem needs (patient capital and paying customers, mostly, before it needs more advice), but programmes like Injini's are doing the connective work that has to happen regardless, and we're glad to be a small part of it. If you're building in the edtech space and our kind of scar tissue would be useful, the door's open - shout.