I thought that running my own cafe was the pinnacle of my adult life.
Following careers in the airline industry and freelancing in the creative business — working with big brands and agencies — what could possibly go wrong?
I had learned the highest standard of bespoke hospitality, serving first-class passengers paying RM15,000. I had consulted clients on branding, digital marketing, content strategy, and building sales websites. I had read and watched enough stories of successful and failed founders.
I spent time scrolling through Instagram for aesthetic cafe designs. I felt frustrated by how local cafes failed to serve the most authentic yet simplest Johor dish — Mi Rebus.
And I had six years of experience running a home-based food business, small-scale catering, and a weekend pop-up stall selling Mi Rebus and coffee.
I also had a business partner willing to invest — who, to my benefit, handed over 100% of the business decisions to me.
Man, I had the perfect recipe for success. Indeed, it felt like a textbook success story.
When Terasa Opened
I designed the entire aesthetic myself — from menu curation and furniture selection to the coffee bean choices.
The first three months saw slow growth. We managed to collaborate with a famous singer for a fan club meet and greet. The engagement and exposure had an effect — customers who attended the event knew about us and came back.
There was some growth. But it wasn’t convincing.
Everything looked perfect in the beginning. Customers came in to try our menu. The feedback was positive — we even garnered 5 stars on Google Reviews. We thought we had a good start.
By the sixth month, sales flattened to RM100 a day. Customers were hardly coming by.
The Strategy That Made Sense — Until It Didn’t
When choosing the location, I selected a shoplot in a low-cost flat complex where the demographics were B40 — Bottom 40% income group.
The strategy: cheaper rent as a trade-off for a longer runway to spend on marketing.
I noticed that customers came by at night — but I soon realized the parking was horrendous. By 7pm the area would be filled by residents, which deterred customers from coming.
We ran promos. Offered discounts. Created reels. Everything we could think of to attract attention.
When we first started, only my wife and I were running the cafe. We quickly realized this was going to be a disaster. I couldn’t juggle running the kitchen, the front house, and simultaneously planning growth.
I told my funder we needed extra hands so I could focus on marketing.
In the first month after hiring a helper — I managed to focus and try many marketing campaigns.
I then realized the residents were simply not interested in our food.
The Behaviour Problem
The area’s customer behavior was price-sensitive. They only spent money outside if they felt they were getting their money’s worth.
My Mi Rebus was RM10 — the same price as a mall food court.
But it wasn’t about the price. It was the behavior that prevented them from appreciating it.
My assumption: if they were going to indulge and spend RM10, they expected a mall-like environment.
A shoplot in a B40 flat didn’t fit that expectation. No matter how good the Mi Rebus was.
The Pivot
With ChatGPT as my second brain, I brainstormed new ideas.
We came up with the strategy of reaching out to customers outside the flat — the B2B market. Meal subscriptions to offices. Meal packages for schools. Hundreds of WhatsApp messages and emails sent.
Something clicked.
Two private international schools replied. Revenue became healthy. Rent was paid on time. We floated for three months.
Then the biggest school client pulled out. One school left.
With a one-month school break approaching and our dependence on foot traffic — we knew we needed to make a decision.
So we closed the cafe. Maintained the clients.
Today — my wife and I run lean operations from our home kitchen. Preparing 40 pax dishes every day. Building what comes next.
What Were The Biggest Lessons?
Location, location, location. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I would have spent far more time analyzing the location before committing. The strategy of cheap rent for longer runway only works if the surrounding market wants what you’re selling.
F&B is more than a food business — it’s a business of convenience. You might have the perfect recipe but customers want something worth their money, cheap, and familiar. Why do Indonesian dishes like ayam gepuk easily get attention? That’s an argument for another briefing.
F&B is a red ocean. Easy to enter, which means customers have more choices than ever. Without strong branding and a clear reason for people to choose you over the warung next door — the climb is harder than any recipe can fix.
P.S. If you’re planning to open a cafe — or any F&B business — DM me before you sign the lease. One conversation might save you more than you think.