How our app went viral in Afghanistan (and how I found motivation as a founder)

When Makoto and I talk about how to succeed with Arno, we so often end up saying that, really, we just have to do one thing: Not quit. As long as we stay in the game and keep trying eventually we will succeed.

That is easier said than done. For the first few months of Arno, I wanted to quit at some point every day. This was when all we had was the desire to have a startup and some vague idea that we could use LLMs to help people learn English. Some founders love that initial phase because there are so many possibilities; it’s pure creativity. I tried to inhabit that view, but I never succeeded. To me, it didn’t feel like a green field of possibilities lay before us. It felt like a wasteland of dreadful uncertainty. We were killing ourselves, and there was no reason to believe that we were on the right path.

After pivoting to a new product, we finally got some consistent users and that did feel amazing — for a few days, then it felt like a slog again. I just wanted Arno to be making enough money that I could quit my day job. I was very much focused on that destination and just gritting my teeth through each day until we got there.

Slowly, I came to see that for so long my head had been down, buried in the endless amounts of work that needed to be done. I never looked up to appreciate the impact of what we had built. We were actually making a difference for people, and when that sunk in, my mindset started to shift.

What helped me finally see the world beyond my to do list was that Arno went viral in Afghanistan. This is not as random as it may seem. We help people prepare for the Duolingo English Test, which is an English proficiency exam that you take from home. Taking a test like TOEFL or IELTS in Afghanistan was hard even when the U.S. still had a large presence in the country. Once they left, and the Taliban retook control, it became virtually impossible to take standardized tests like this, especially for women. Under the Taliban’s strict interpretation of Sharia law, women are meant to stay at home — unseen, unheard, and uneducated.

Yet, this is not deterring young woman across the country from trying to get out and make a better life for themselves. At home, they still have the internet. These women are resourceful and fearless. They gladly signed up for user interviews with us — which entailed talking to two young men, one of them an American, on a video chat from their bedroom, about how they wanted to study abroad.

Their plan was to do well on the Duolingo English Test in order to get a scholarship to go abroad. Arno was helping them get ready for the test. Most of them had learned about us through WhatsApp groups in which young Afghan women help one another with everything related to studying abroad.

This thing that Makoto and I had created on nights and weekends, this thing that was burning me out, was being used by young Afghan women to clandestinely educate themselves and escape the tyranny of the Taliban. I mean, holy shit. The main reason I wanted to found a startup was to create something that actually had an impact on the world. And we were doing that! Yet, I had overlooked it, because I was too busy getting through emails.

The truth is that we had talked to a number of young Afghans before this realization finally sunk in. And even after I finally appreciated this, it’s not like I woke up a completely new founder. For me at least, habits don’t change that quickly.

Rather, whenever I feel the blinders come on and my worldview becomes myopic and cynical, I take a moment to look up and remind myself: What we are doing is actually helping people. Young people around the world, most of whom with little money but with dreams to study abroad, trust us to help them improve their English and get a great score on the test.

Reminding myself of the responsibility I have to our users is the best motivator I’ve found to help me keep going when the startup grind has ground me down. When I can fully live with this mindset, the work feels like a privilege, not a burden.

This post was originally published on our blog, Founders Confidential. That's where we share what we're learning as we build Arno.