My First Startup Selling Purple Superfood Berries

TL;DR

I started a business inspired by my love for acai bowls, but learned the hard way that picking the right investors is crucial. We pioneered the acai market in Thailand, growing from selling in supermarkets to opening cafes. However, a mix of financial pressure, investor disagreements, and COVID-19 led to us being pushed out of our own company. The investors took over, and we were left as minority shareholders. Despite walking away with little financial reward, I gained valuable lessons about investors, maintaining ownership, and growing a startup wisely. Key takeaways: be careful with investors, maintain control, pay yourself, and grow sustainably.

Socials:

• Makai's Website
• Makai's Facebook
• Makai's Instagram

Introduction

Starting a business from scratch has been one of the wildest experiences. I’ve felt the highs of watching my business grow and the lows of constantly hitting problems, roadblocks, and, in the end, even being pushed out of my own company. But despite it all, I’m grateful for the chance to exit with some hard-earned lessons. One of the biggest mistakes I made, which kicked off a chain reaction of issues, is one of the most cliché pieces of advice in the startup world: "Be careful who you choose as your investor." The right investors can bring value beyond just their capital, but when there’s a poor fit or misaligned goals, it can lead to real trouble. This is the short story of how and what we did and what happened during our journey to build a cold chain distribution network and quick-service restaurants (QSRs) around a small but mighty purple superfood called acai.

The Beginnings

The idea for my first venture took root in Hawaii during my undergrad studies in 2008. One of my favorite hangouts back then was a small, local spot at the base of Diamond Head called Da Cove Health Bar & Café.

I loved it because it was tucked away from the tourist-packed streets of Waikiki, and from the moment I walked in, I could feel the island’s authenticity. I became a regular, trying everything on the menu, but it wasn’t just the food that kept me coming back. What made Da Cove special was its sense of community—it had the relaxed, welcoming spirit of the island. Founded by local surfer Marcus Marcos, it had a unique character that made everyone feel like family. Even the café’s mascot, a friendly Labrador named Pono (who had played "Vincent" in the TV series Lost, added to the charm.

Da Cove quickly became part of my weekend routine. Every visit wasn’t just about grabbing a bite; it was a reminder of the island’s laid-back lifestyle and my growing love for acai—a passion that would later inspire me to build my own acai business in a market where acai was virtually unknown.

After undergrad, I moved back to Thailand. Acai was gaining popularity as a superfood in other parts of the world, but it hadn’t yet arrived in the Thai market. I missed Da Cove, and more than anything, I missed acai bowls.

Fast forward to 2015. I was 25, working in private equity, when an opportunity arose in Brazil—the home of acai. It was a distressed company named Protubo, one of the first company in South America to use alternating current induction for bending pipes. To my surprise, we successfully negotiated the deal, which led to my relocation to Brazil for a year.

While there, I reconnected with a Brazilian friend from Hawaii and shared my idea of starting an acai business in Thailand. He loved it and agreed to invest. Before I left Brazil, we visited several acai suppliers in Belem and eventually made a deal with Petruz. Unlike other suppliers, Petruz was willing to work with us on a small volume shipment at a reasonable price, which helped us open the Thai market.

After returning to Thailand, I managed to convince my brother and a high school friend to invest in the business. Together, we pooled about $10,000, half of which went toward our first inventory shipment and setting up storage, company registration, and FDA requirements. With little cash leftover after the acai purchase, we took a conservative approach, juggling our full-time jobs while dedicating our off-hours and weekends to the business.

We did everything ourselves: pitching door-to-door at restaurants, meeting with supermarket procurement teams, managing social media, running ads, handling accounting, packing, and logistics. It was a grind, but every new customer gave us a rush that kept us going. After six months of hard work, we landed our product in all the major supermarket chains—Villa Market, Foodland, Gourmet Market, and Makro. We also convinced several restaurants and hotels to add acai bowls to their menus. At our peak, we had our products in 60 supermarket stores and were serving 20 restaurants and hotels.

Our strategy was simple: educate the market on acai’s amazing health benefits, targeting health-conscious and fitness-oriented consumers, while promoting it as a guilt-free snack for everyone else.

We were officially the pioneers of the acai food category in Thailand...but we were also out of money.

Angel Round

At this stage, it was just my high school friend and me running the business as co-founders. My brother had shifted his focus to exploring real estate ventures, and my Brazilian friend had returned to his family business.

Another challenge we faced was that many of our restaurant clients weren’t preparing acai bowls correctly. Despite onboarding and training their staff, some places ended up serving terrible acai bowls. Since we had little control over the recipes in restaurants, we decided that with new funding, we would open our own acai cafe. We knew managing both a cold-chain distribution business and a retail store would require a larger amount of funding.

Majority of the capital ended up transporting and restocking acai inventory from halfway around the world. Since high-quality acai could only be harvested once per year, this required us to plan volumes a year in advance to secure the best quality and pricing. Growing volumes made it even harder to balance. Overbuying would tie up capital, while underbuying risked shortages and potential penalties, including losing shelf space in major retail chains.

The other portion of the money needed was to build an in-house scalable acai cafe that would resonate with our target customers.

Within three months, we raised $85,000 from friends, selling almost half the company’s equity and effectively closing our angel round. Finding investors was incredibly challenging, especially with just the two of us juggling all operations. But we did it... at a high cost.

When the fundraising was finally confirmed, it was a huge relief from the stress and uncertainty of managing the business without secure funding. With the new investment, we shifted focus to building a cafe brand called Makai. In Hawaiian, "Makai" (pronounced mah-KAI) means "toward the sea." I chose this name because every time I visited Da Cove Cafe for an acai bowl, it felt like heading toward the ocean.

Brand Building

I found that educating the market was most effective through events and workshops. I noticed that people often discovered acai and our brand through word of mouth. However, the biggest impact came from teaming up with social media influencers to build serious buzz around our brand and the acai food category. When it came to reaching our target audience, we focused on partnering with influencers who promoted an active lifestyle, cafe hopping, athletics, and health-conscious living.

We didn’t place heavy demands on the influencers—our only request was that they share on social media whenever they had our acai bowls for free. This collaboration led to a snowball effect of User-Generated Content (UGC); soon, customers started creating their own posts with our bowls and tagging us. One of the great things about UGC is that it feels authentic, and our brand spread like wildfire.

The strategy was so effective that @bougiebankokgirl , an Instagram account dedicated to Thai memes, even made a meme featuring Makai in a "healthy lifestyle" starter pack.

The Hockey Stick Curve

By late 2017, our volumes had grown to the point where we transitioned from air-freight boxes to sea-freight containers for our acai shipments. Our team had also expanded, with dedicated cafe staff, a logistics team, an accounting team, and a manager. Our restaurant customer base was growing as well, reaching all over Thailand—even to islands like Koh Phi Phi, Koh Samui, and Koh Phangan.

Around this time, delivery apps were starting to gain traction. UberEats entered Thailand early that year , soon followed by Foodpanda, which competed head to head. Initially, we didn’t think much of delivery apps because the combined commission and fees could go as high as 35% of sales, which seemed too steep. Still, we decided to give them a try.

The moment we opened up delivery apps at our cafe, we were blown away by the results. The flood of orders was unexpected and completely changed the dynamics of how our staff worked to serve both in-store customers and delivery orders. We had to retrain our team, adjust our standard operating procedures, and even redesign the cafe layout to make room for extra equipment. Delivery orders were clearing out our inventory faster than we could restock. It was chaotic, but in a good way.

Some might say that delivery apps sparked our Hockey Stick Curve in sales, but I believe it was a combination of many efforts over time—attending events, hosting workshops, building our brand through UGC, partnering with influencers, and, most importantly, doing all of this at the right time with a little bit of luck.

The downside of this surge was that our acai inventory was running out faster than expected, putting us back in a similar position to where we were after the angel investment round. Additionally, delivery sales were bringing in lower margins compared to traditional channels. This shift affected our cash flow and business model forecasts, and we found ourselves needing to raise funds sooner than we anticipated.

Seed Round

From the start of running this startup, I knew almost nothing about building a business, let alone a distribution and retail business. I realized early on that we needed professional guidance and support from our next investor. I wanted to avoid investors who would only provide capital; instead, I focused on finding someone who could bring valuable experience and help drive our growth.

By mid-2018, our sales volumes were still growing month over month. We had about two months of inventory runway, but we really needed six months' worth to get through the acai season with favorable pricing. With our current growth rate, the volume we needed to commit to was more than we could afford for the downpayment. Once again, we found ourselves in a crunch, so I began cold-calling investors.

After two weeks, I managed to find two interested investors. The first was a family office that operated Thailand's H&M retail stores and a high-end restaurant called D'ARK, which happened to be one of our acai clients. When we met, they surprised me by bringing along the founders of Acai Brothers, an Australian acai cafe franchise. I recognized Acai Brothers right away, as I had researched almost every acai cafe brand when building Makai. Their presence made me question the investor's true intentions.

It turned out that the investor wanted to launch the Acai Brothers franchise in Thailand using our business as a platform. This didn’t sit well with me, so I declined the offer, although we did at least get a photo with the two Acai Brothers founders.

The second investor was a boutique private equity firm founded by a former partner from Navis Capital. This ex-partner had F&B experience, having led the turnaround and successful exit of Dunkin Donuts in Thailand, ultimately selling it to Au Bon Pain. This track record was their primary selling point to me, along with their promise to help us achieve an exit within 4-5 years. Our discussions with this investor felt much more promising. After they completed due diligence and reviewed our business plan, they sent us an offer. I presented it to our eight other shareholders, hoping to move forward quickly, as we were about a month away from running out of inventory and low on cash.

In hindsight, I realize that we didn’t do our own due diligence on them. We had a clear vision of what we wanted our business to become, but we lacked the blueprint to get there, so we trusted they would guide us toward our goals.

In the end, the funding was secured. However, it was beginning of another journey—one where I would learn the hard way how to fundraise correctly.

Managing during COVID Lockdown

By 2020, we had made significant progress, opening thirteen locations and growing our team to 64 employees. We had developed a systematic template for opening and managing stores, with operations, data management, HR, and systems all locked down. Everything seemed to be falling into place.

Before 2020, we had already run out of money, but our private equity investors extended us an additional loan with repayment terms to help keep scaling the business. Our sales had grown 13x since we started, but profitability was still out of reach. The investors assured us that this was normal for a scaling business and encouraged us to stick to the plan.

Then COVID happened, and everything changed. Our sales plummeted by 50%, and the weight of our fixed costs made it almost impossible to manage. We did everything we could—downsizing staff, cutting salaries (including our own), reducing COGS, and introducing new menu items. But nothing worked. Our runway, which had been a comfortable nine months, shrank to just four months.

As foot traffic dried up, we shifted entirely to delivery apps. Adapting to this new reality, we pivoted our strategy to focus on opening cloud kitchens designed specifically for delivery. These cost less to set up and allowed us to cover delivery range. While this seemed promising, sales at these new locations typically took two months to reach their peak.

My co-founder and I stopped taking salaries as soon as we implemented temporary salary reductions for the team. Despite our efforts, the pressure continued to mount, and we had no choice but to ask for additional funding. This was the moment when our investors began to show their true colors.

When we approached them for more funding, they declined. At this point, I started exploring alternatives. I considered taking on a personal loan with the directors as guarantors to fund the business. However, given the risks involved and the amount of equity I already had in the company, it didn’t seem like the right decision. I proposed the idea anyway, but with one condition: in exchange, we asked the investors to extend the repayment timeline for their existing loan to ease cash flow pressures while we worked to turn the business around..

Their response was unexpected—and telling. They proposed that we use the bank loan to repay their existing loan first and use the leftover funds to run the business. It became clear to me that the investors were now more focused on recovering their investment than working to find a solution. This realization hit hard, but it also shed light on where their priorities truly lay.

My response to their counterproposal was straightforward: we would agree to repay their loan, but in exchange, we proposed restructuring the equity of the business. This would grant us more equity to compensate for the risks we were taking while offloading their risk with the loan repayment. They decline on an instant. it seemed strange, greedy and it didn't make sense. They didn't want to fund the business, and were not willing to give up some of their equity for the founders to take the risks of funding the turnaround.

Without cash, I was left with no choice but to restructure the business to where profitability was possible and give it the best chance of survival. This meant downsizing the company significantly, focusing on our distribution business and operating just two stores. Unfortunately, this required us to terminate most of our staff, keeping only the core team.

Disagreements with Investor

The moment I announced the downsizing plan, all hell broke loose. The investors started kicking and crying and their reaction caught me off guard. I couldn’t understand their reaction, especially since they had refused to fund the business further or even negotiate terms that would allow me to secure funding and work around to repay back their loan.

Their refusal had left me in an impossible position, holding the risk of being personally liable for employee salaries I couldn’t pay. What other options did I have?

In an effort to resolve the tension, I offered them the opportunity to take the Director seat and run the business themselves, transferring all risks and liabilities onto their shoulders. Their response? They claimed that foreigners couldn’t serve as directors under Thai law—a claim that I knew wasn’t true.

Despite their objections, they insisted that I not proceed with the downsizing plan. By this point, I hadn’t paid myself for five months and was beyond frustrated. I decided to move forward anyway. I was fed up but ready to grind for one last push to save the business.

Their anger escalated and a meeting was quickly set up. During this meeting, we reached an agreement where they would take the Director seat and assume control of the business, provided that I resigned from the role and remained as a shareholder.

Founder's Equity Dilution

The moment I resigned, and the investors stepped into the director's seat, they immediately injected the business with more debt, keeping the operations running at the same scale and continuing to expand by opening new locations.

When the COVID lockdowns lifted, front-store sales began to recover. At this point, I had no visibility into the additional funding they secured to weather the COVID storm. Soon after, they proposed raising funds to support the ongoing turnaround. My co-founder and I, lacking the personal resources to participate, found ourselves further diluted.

The business continued to grow, and before long, another investment round was initiated—this time with a proposal to merge with another business. Once again, my ownership stake was diluted. Then came a third fundraising round, tied to plans for yet another acquisition. However, this round included an offer to buy out existing shares. By this point, I was mentally and physically drained. My co-founder and I were pushed to the sidelines as we became fractional owners of the very business we had built.

What frustrated me the most was that every aspect of the business’s operations remained the same as the plans I had suggested during the pandemic, only now they had additional funds and new businesses brought in through acquisitions. I was completely broken and ready to move on. When the buyout offer came, I knew it was time to cut ties and leave everything behind.

To this day, I’ll never know the full extent of the dealings behind closed doors or their true intentions. If I had to guess, they saw an opportunity to take over the business during a moment of crisis. Perhaps the plan didn’t unfold exactly as they had imagined due to my abrupt downsizing decisions. With each round, our ownership shrank, and eventually, it felt as though we were outsiders looking in on what was once ours.

The exit payout did not feel rewarding, considering the amount of time and effort put into building the business. Nevertheless, I walked away with valuable lessons and experiences that will serve me well in future ventures.

Key Learnings

Have a Lawyer

Yes, hiring a lawyer is expensive, but not as expensive. A lawyer provides clarity and confidence, especially during negotiations, by helping you understand the potential outcomes of different options.

If I had engaged a lawyer early on, I would have known that the company structure initially proposed to me wasn’t necessary—and may have revealed the downsides and or true intentions behind the scenes. A lawyer could have also helped me manage the crisis moments better, providing guidance during times of stress when decision-making is at its worst.

Fundraise Based on Defined Milestones and Time frame

Fundraising isn’t just about securing money—it’s about knowing what you’ll do with it and how long it will last. Ideally, every round of funding should cover a clear set of milestones within a defined timeframe, typically 12-18 months.

The questions to ask before raising funds are:

• What are our key milestones, and how long will it take to achieve them?
• Will this funding bring us to profitability, or will we need another round?
• If profitability isn’t within reach, will we achieve enough with this funding to make the next round convincing to investors?

I made the mistake of not defining these milestones clearly. Without a roadmap, we operated blindly, chasing ideas to grow sales without a focused plan. Setting milestones would have aligned our actions, determined who to hire, and prioritized what to focus on.

Do Your Due Diligence

For investors that bring more than capital. It’s important to do your background check to make sure they are going to provide the value you expect them to provide. Understand their track record, their goals for your business, and how they’ve treated other entrepreneurs in the past. Are they aligned with your vision? These are some of the questions to ask.

Don't let Investors Run Your Business

It’s one thing to take advice from investors, but another to let them dictate operations. Nobody understands your business better than you do. Investors often look at short-term gains, but as a founder, you’re responsible for the long-term vision and success of the company.

The moment investors start taking control, your priorities and their priorities may no longer align. Ultimately, you'll end up losing the motivation and lose that "Founder Mode" in you.

Pay Yourself First

As founders, it’s easy to fall into the trap of sacrificing your own pay for the sake of the business. Not paying yourself will lead to burnout, poor decision-making, and financial strain that spills into your personal life.

Growing Slow is Growing Sure

Investor will always sell you the upside. All that good stuff comes with risks. Scaling too quickly can stretch your resources, compromise quality, and create cash flow issues. Its necessary to have a growth mindset, but its important to not take more than what you can chew.

Growing slow and steady allows you to build a strong foundation—whether it’s refining operations, understanding your market, or stabilizing your cash flow. In hindsight, I see how a slower approach could have helped us avoid some of the pitfalls we faced.

Maintain a Healthy Cap Table

Dilution is inevitable in startups, but managing your cap table carefully is crucial to maintaining control and ownership. Having too many shareholders or losing too much equity early on can leave you vulnerable, and unattractive to investors.

If I had maintained a healthier cap table, I might have had more leverage and flexibility in the later stages of the business.

I've wrote about this in my Cap Table Model for Fundraising post and also have a model template.