Kids should know how to make things, fix things, grow things and cook things.
We started with make and fix.
Real tools, a real problem, and nobody doing it for them — until they can say the only thing we're actually after.
“I can do this.”
Ages 7–14 · Nothing to pay · Nothing ships yet
Qiko Mission 01
Meet Your Tools
Real tools.Real problems.Real capability.
Expected
₹1,299
Expected price. We haven't manufactured any yet, so this is our estimate — you'll know the real number before anyone is asked for anything.
Why this matters
They can do long division. Can they tighten a hinge?
Practical capability is the one thing nobody is actually assigned to teach. It gets picked up sideways, from a parent with a spare afternoon — or it doesn't get picked up at all. Meanwhile the default answer to "can I try?" is "here, let me."
- Real tools, not plastic ones
- A problem, not an instruction sheet
- Nobody doing it for them
Things they can do
Five things they'll be able to do.
Written the way a child would say it, and beside it the way they'd prove it. We don't claim a skill we can't describe them demonstrating.
The whole Make & Fix map — including what we haven't built yet, marked as such.
How Qiko Mission 01 works
The child does the work.
Every card gives a problem and never a procedure. There is no step one to follow — which is what makes the next six steps theirs.
01
A real problem
The card says what's wrong, never what to do about it. There is no step 1.
02
They try
With a real tool, on something that can genuinely be got wrong.
03
It doesn't work
By design. Every challenge has a mistake built into it, and every one costs nothing to undo.
04
They figure it out
There's a hint folded in the card. Opening it is their call, and nobody comments either way.
05
They fix it
Their hands, their tool choice, their second attempt.
06
They check it worked
Push the plate — nothing moves. Move the lever, let go — it stays put. They test it themselves.
What’s inside
Nine things. Every one of them real.
No plastic stand-ins, no filler, and nothing added to make the box feel heavier than it is.
The practice board
340 × 240mm, birch ply and pine
Five zones for five skills, and one hole drilled deliberately wrong. Blocks and strips are replaceable, so it doesn't become firewood after one afternoon.
A real hammer
225g, wooden handle, child-sized
Not a toy one. A 100g hammer bounces, takes thirty strikes and teaches the opposite lesson — the weight is what does the work.
A real screwdriver
Reversible bit — cross one end, flat the other
Two tips, one handle. So 'pick the right tool' is a real decision and not a rhetorical one.
Steel ruler
300mm, millimetre marks
Its zero is at the tip. The board's own scale starts 20mm in. Measure 100mm on each and you get two different answers — that's on purpose.
Safety glasses
Child-sized, impact-rated
Worn before the first strike, every time. It's the ritual that tells everyone in the room this is the real thing.
Sanding block, two grits
Coarse and fine
A block, not loose paper. Which grit to start with is one of the decisions the box is actually testing.
Screws, nails and a lidded tin
20 of each
Enough to get it wrong repeatedly. The tin is because small parts and small siblings don't mix.
Nine challenge cards
Plus a sealed envelope nobody opens until the end
Each card gives a problem, never a procedure. There's a hint folded inside if they want it — and whether they open it is the most interesting thing that happens all afternoon.
One card for you
Single sided. Read it once.
It tells you the two moments you're allowed to step in, and asks you to sit down for everything else.
And deliberately not in it — no drill, no saw, no electronics, no craft consumables, no plastic version of anything. What justifies the price is what your child can do at the end, not the weight of the box.
For the grown-up
Your job isn't to teach.
It's to give them room to figure it out. You're in the room the whole time — that part isn't optional — and the box tells you the two moments to step in. Everything in between is theirs, including the parts they get wrong.
- You're in the room. The whole time.
- Within arm's reach, sitting down. This isn't a product that entertains your child while you do something else, and we'd rather say so now.
- You step in exactly twice.
- Once to check the glasses are on. Once if something's genuinely unsafe — a hand in the strike path, a tool pointed at a face. Everything else, you sit on your hands.
- Small tools, real ones.
- A 225g hammer, a child-sized screwdriver, impact-rated glasses. Nothing that cuts, nothing with a motor, nothing that plugs in.
- Designed so mistakes are cheap.
- Short nails, a card holder that keeps fingers out of the strike path, and a claw so anything that goes in can come back out. Getting it wrong should cost a second attempt, nothing more.
- Not for under-sevens.
- And the screws and nails are a choking hazard, so they live in a lidded tin away from smaller siblings.
The full safety position — hazards named, and what stays your call.
Be one of the first families.
There is no warehouse and no shipping date. There is a finished design, a plan to hand-build six of them, and six children who will tell us whether it works.
You'll hear from us when the first real run is ready — and you'll hear from us if it never is.
Which one would you want after this?
Optional — it just rides along in the message. Neither exists yet.
Nothing to pay. We'll message you before anything ships.
The longer mission
Make and fix is where we started, not where it stops.
Current
Make & Fix
Tools, measurement, building and repair. Where a child stops handing you the broken thing.
Coming later
Grow
Soil, water, light, patience, and something you can eat at the end.
Coming later
Cook
Heat, knives, timing, and a meal somebody else is grateful for.
Neither Grow nor Cook exists. There is no waitlist for them and no date — we are not building a second domain until the first one is proven to work on real children.