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We were off to a flying start in 2026. And now, we pivot.

The article I mentioned last week did publish and I am grateful to have the opportunity (and trust) of certain people to be able to openly voice my feelings.

You can read it here but just in case you can’t get past the paywall, I’ve shared my first version below (sorry, CID!).

I now know I am reworking my strategy for nuja not just for the next couple of months, but all of 2026, if not more. In the same breath, I can’t be more appreciative of how safe I still feel here, and the waves of compassion and strength visible in every individual here. Just stunned with us humans.

But as naive as it might be, I still hope and pray that some sense prevails and this mindless, unfettered aggression flies away with the sands of this desert country soon.

Have a lovely week ahead, and don’t forget the ‘kind’ in our humankind.
M.

Epic Furiousity
I am home, I’m safe, and I’m very angry.

A month ago, things looked very different for us. February 2026 was the best month we’ve ever had at nuja inc. It was incredible because the momentum was real and plans felt solid. And then, March happened.

Over the course of the next few days, the mood shifted. A couple of conversations changed and priorities blurred. Personal safety and sanity were paramount and the P&L can pause for a minute. Because this is the kind of uncertainty or anxiety for an individual that doesn’t knock politely - it just arrives, annoyingly loud and expects you to make space.

(I do also want to talk about the immense pride I feel having lived in this city for more than 15 years but I feel that's a different rant).

I’m not going to get into the politics of it. But I will say this: it feels sudden, stupid, and quite infuriating. And as a small business owner, I feel it twice. Once as a person - processing the anxiety, the noise, the quiet recalibration of what “normal” looks like. And second as a founder - responsible for a team, a business, a system that depends on some level of stability to function well.

And that’s where my anger really sits.

Because I have a beautiful team that is the absolute backbone of everything we do, and one of my biggest sources of joy and pride on most days. And this needless escalation has hurt, hampered or hit them - emotionally - more than me. And I rage because I can't control, guide or de-escalate it, like I do most days on the 'job'.

And for someone who wants to do more, build more, give more, that’s deeply frustrating in a way that’s hard to articulate.

So last week, I stopped trying to control what I couldn’t. And went back to what I could. I went back to our values. Permission to roll your eyes, but values aren't pretty corporate posters on our walls. They're the solid foundation I have built, having quit those same corporate corridors three years ago. I went back to our values as a team not as a brand exercise and not as something we revisit when things are going well. But as a reset for when they aren’t.

At nuja, we talk about ownership over optics. No surprises, ever. Being generous by default. Elevating the room. Staying curious, not comfortable. Being serious about joy, building boldly, even when things feel uncertain.

They’re simple. But I know they can be demanding - just like me.

And in times like these, they become less about aspiration and more about discipline. Because if the external environment is unpredictable, the internal one absolutely cannot be. We spoke about it as a team - pretty frickin' honestly. This is where we are. This is what we know. This is what we don’t.

And I think that’s the real work right now - not performing to be resilient or calm, but grounding ourselves in a steadiness that can't be intercepted (too soon for these jokes?).

I’m incredibly proud of my team. Of how they show up, how they continue to do the work, ask better questions, share ridiculously bad dad jokes and stay steady when things feel anything but. I have so much respect for that. And even more gratitude.

And I’m still angry.
Angry that I can’t do more right now.
Angry that tweets and fake news seem to armour so many people.
Angry that growth, which felt so tangible just weeks ago, now comes with a question mark or pause.

If anything, the last few weeks have made me realise that in these uncertain times, leadership isn’t clarity or only projecting confidence. Sometimes, it’s standing in uncertainty, knowing your team is looking to you for answers, and choosing to be a flawed, angry human with unshakeable values.

xx

Manuja

Not for everyone. Never was.

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