The full founder's story

Hello, I'm AJ and ... this is my real story My story is one of unexpected turns, deep faith, and relentless grit. It’s a journey filled with setbacks, comebacks, doubt, faith, and discovery. I’m still growing. Still stumbling. Still striving to live a life that matters - not just for me, but for others too. Now, I wear many hats: serial entrepreneur, developer, designer, podcaster, author, mentor and above all - a lifelong learner. Wadeh Life was born from this journey - a life of barakah, balance, and becoming. A space where I document the real, raw, and unfiltered experience of building a life rooted in purpose, growth, and responsibility. Scroll down to read the full journey. I promise, it’s just getting started.

For a long time, I was a bit hesitant to share my journey with the world. Not because I didn’t believe in the value of what I’ve been through, but because I was afraid - afraid of being misunderstood, or judged. I kept telling myself, “Maybe it’s not the right time yet.” But recently, I came across a post on a Telegram channel that spoke directly to me. It was titled “I Used to Be Scared to Even Show My Face.” And I realized something: If my story can help even one person - someone who feels stuck, who’s failed before, or who’s questioning their path - then it’s worth telling. Even if it’s not perfect. Even if it makes me feel vulnerable. So here I am, sharing the real, unfiltered journey of my life.

My name is Abdulfetah Jemal, but most people just call me AJ - an acronym of my name which is short and simple. I’m currently a 4th-year Software Engineering student, and if all goes well, I’ll be graduating next year. But this story isn’t just about what I study - it’s about where I come from, the struggles I faced, and how Wadeh Life was born.

I was born and raised in the eastern part of Ethiopia, in a town called Ginir - the capital of East Bale Zone. My educational journey started when I was just 4 years old. I joined school with my elder brother who was two years older than me. I didn’t start in fancy kindergarten or nursery - I walked straight into Grade 1 at a public school. Not because I was ahead of my time academically, but because I followed my brother and insisted to join.

But there was a problem: they said I was too young. They had this funny “scientific method” to test if you were ready for school - you had to stretch your arm over your head and touch your opposite ear. I couldn’t do it. So they said “no.” I cried… a lot. My father, seeing how badly I wanted to stay, asked them to just let me sit in the class even without registration. Somehow, they agreed. That’s how it began - with tears and a stubborn little boy who didn’t want to be left behind.

I don’t remember much from my early school years… but one thing I’ll never forget is that I was a well-known drawing legend 😄. In our school, I became the go-to person for every poster, class art, or anything visual. That passion stayed with me, even though I no longer draw today.

Outside of school, my life was full. I went to madrasa regularly - a religious school where we learned Qur’an, Arabic, and a bit of English. ( my parents were so serious about Madarasa ) ... but I didn’t pay much attention to English part - I just memorized conversations word for word to avoid punishment.

I also loved football and played for a local youth club. And I trained in martial arts for over 7 years - two years in Chinese Wushu, and five more years in World Taekwondo. Since both instructors were my uncles, discipline and physical training became a regular part of my life.

But when it came to school, I didn’t take it seriously. I completed primary school without studying properly. In Grade 8, I sat for the national exam and barely passed - an average of 47%. Yes 😅, I still have the certificate.

Somehow, I moved on to high school. But I still didn’t study. I didn’t change my habits in Grades 9 and 10. So of course, I failed the Grade 10 national exam and couldn’t move on to Grade 11.

In my town, most people who failed the exam joined a technical college. I followed that path and joined a TVET college to study Electronics - because I was curious about it. After one year, I decided to try the exam again. This time, I registered in a nearby pastoralist town where the passing mark was lower. I had scored 2.7 before, and the pass mark there was 2.5 - it looked like my best shot.

But my admission card didn’t arrive. The Ministry of Education noticed that my grades were too high for that area and assumed I was manipulating the system. and just like that I lost another year.

I went back to college, finished the next level of Electronics, and received a temporary certificate. But deep inside… I started hating it. I didn’t feel aligned anymore. So I took time off and helped my family’s business - meeting clients and figuring things out.

Then came another exam season - my third attempt. I registered again in my own town. But still, I didn’t study. And, as you might guess, I failed again, I scored just 2.5 - even lower than before.

After that third failure, my elder brother and I decided to learn English. We joined H2 Language and Computer Center in Addis Ababa. That decision changed everything.

During that time, one of my aunts won a scholarship to Turkey and shared her experiences with us. I also got interested in the opportunity... but I understood that it will only happen if I passed Grade 10 and Grade 12 national exam with good grades.

The dream of winning the scholarship reignited something in me. For the first time, I decided to take things seriously.

At the language school, I struggled. The students were fluent - I was not. My English was poor. I only knew basic words and couldn’t understand much. But I had a burning passion to learn. I searched for every way possible. Thankfully, the school provided audio and video resources that helped us improve our English and American accents.

I started memorizing vocabulary daily - over 300 words a day at times. I used flashcards, and my pockets were usually filled with small paper notes. After three months of deep focus, we returned home. There were only five months left until the exam - my fourth attempt. But I was no longer the same person. I had changed. And I was ready for whatever was coming next.

Learning English had boosted my comprehension of the subjects, and the dream of earning a Turkish scholarship gave me deep motivation. And guess what… I started going to school again after 3 years - this time as a "private" student ( locally called "private" : someone who is retaking the national exam).

I hired a private physics teacher to teach me at home. I also enrolled in paid special chemistry classes. For maths, I went to a teacher’s home regularly, where we focused on solving past national exam papers and understanding the pattern of the questions.

As for the other heavy theoretical subjects? I studied them on my own, with some friends who came over to my house. We studied day and night. But the biggest challenge wasn’t time - it was mindset. I had never studied seriously before, and I didn’t even know how to study properly. And mathematics? It was my greatest enemy. You won’t believe this, but I didn’t even know how to divide properly when I started. I learned basic division from my little cousin who was only in Grade 6.

After all that struggle, the exam season came around for the fourth time. I was prepared, but deep inside, I was terrified Because If I failed again, I knew it would crash me. I didn’t even think I could handle that level of disappointment once more.

Then the results came.

And you cannot guess how much I scored this time…

4.0 GPA - after failing three times.

I remember standing in a restaurant, looking at the result on my phone, shocked. “What! Is this even real?” I dropped down into sujood ash-shukr - a prostration of gratitude. It was one of the most emotional moments of my life. But it was also bittersweet… because many of the friends I had studied with didn’t pass. and that killed my happiness.

Then something unexpected happened. The Ministry of Education made a national announcement - all students who had ever taken the Grade 10 national exam were now eligible to join night classes for Grades 11 and 12. The passing mark was reduced to 2.0 GPA. It was a huge opportunity for students who had failed before - including my friends. But because I had taken the exam multiple times, the school told me I should also join the night program.

That decision broke me. I didn’t want to study for three more years, especially not in the night shift with students who had forgotten what school even felt like. I had just proven myself. I had just scored 4.0. I wanted to study with regular students during the day - not be pushed back again.

So my father and I fought hard. We pleaded our case and persisted. Eventually, they allowed me to study in the daytime. But I was still expected to take the Grade 12 national exam after 3 years - not after 2 years like the rest of my classmates.

I struggled emotionally throughout Grades 11 and 12. And when the national exam application period arrived, I made a bold decision - I secretly filled out the form. A few days later, the principal called me into the office. “Why did you fill the form?” they asked. “Didn’t we say you’ll take the exam after 3 years?” They were furious. I left that office crushed again.

Then came another setback - I heard a rumour that my admission card didn’t arrive. Felt like they tried to hide it from me. With only one month left until the exam, my father and I reached out to the Ministry of Education at the zonal level. We attended a week full of meetings - involving the school board, principals, and even the ministry president at zone level.

The final decision? I would not be allowed to take the exam that year.

I was devastated. I stopped studying. My hope was dimmed. But then, something unexpected happened - again.

Around 8:30 p.m., a night before the exam, I was sitting in my room reading a psychology book in Afan Oromo - “Siif Galeeraa?” by Professor Mihretu Shanko. Suddenly, someone knocked at the door. It was the school principal. He told me they had contacted the regional Ministry of Education, and I could come in the morning, collect my admission card, and sit for the exam.

I was speechless. I thanked him and went back to my room. I took the exam the next morning - overwhelmed, underprepared, and full of self-doubt. I completed it that way.

And then, the results came in…

I had scored the highest result in the entire zone - across 18 towns. It wasn’t my dream score of 625, but I didn’t complain. I had given it my all through unimaginable challenges.

After Grade 12, I opened an English school in my town - “AJ American English School.” I taught there for three months and earned my first ever salary. It was the beginning of a new phase in my life.

When I joined university, I met a brilliant friend who shared my exact name. We were placed in the same dorm - just three of us in the room. We never went to the library. We studied in our own way - and both of us scored A+ in all courses and 30/30 on the COC exam. Eventually, we both left medicine and chose Software Engineering instead.

Even before joining software officially, I had already started coding. Now, I am a serial entrepreneur and CTO & Co-Founder leading a tech startup while still being student at a campus.

And my final message to you is this:

No matter how many times life knocks you down, do not give up. Your story isn't over just because you've faced failure - sometimes, it's only beginning. I failed, I struggled, I almost gave up… but I didn’t. And that has made all the difference. Life has a strange way of testing us before it blesses us - so hold on, keep going, and never let temporary setbacks define your future.

If you’ve read this far - thank you. It means more than you know. I invite you to stay connected and grow with me. Let’s keep learning, building, and rising - together.

This is Wadeh Life.

A life filled with barakah - where every step is guided by purpose, every struggle holds meaning, and every setback becomes a setup for growth. It’s about aligning productivity with faith, and building a life that matters - one small, intentional step at a time.

Wadeh Life isn’t about perfection - it’s about perseverance. It’s about refusing to quit, even when the world says it’s over. It’s about holding onto your faith when things fall apart, and choosing to rise - again and again.

Thank you for reading my story. If it reached you in any way, I invite you to stay connected - join me on YouTube and Telegram. Let’s grow together - from humble beginnings to a purposeful life.