One night, one kitchen, one feeling.
Berlin. Just after nine. I am standing in a stranger's kitchen in front of an unopened cabinet box. During the day I worked the reception desk of a hotel; now I am holding the drill. The first thing the man who opens the door says: "I'm surprised you came. The two before you didn't."
That evening I assembled the cabinet. But what I took with me was not only money. It was a feeling. Between what is promised and what is kept lay a gap – and it was as wide as a city.
I have followed that feeling all my life. In Baku, in Istanbul, in Tallinn – the industry was different every time, the feeling always the same: something is needlessly hard, and people are waiting for the simpler version. I find it, I build it, I try it out. If it holds, I let it grow; if it does not, I let it go. Four countries and five languages are there for this: more doors, more of that feeling.
Keeping your word is expensive. For the sick fitter you find a team at midnight; the miscalculated job you finish out of your own pocket. But the arithmetic is simple: every kept promise brings the next job, every broken one costs ten. Trust is the capital that grows slowest and pays most.
Nuxa is built on that arithmetic. Today, the care of buildings; tomorrow, work we have not named yet. The industry changes. The feeling, the arithmetic and the word remain.
— Raju Zakaryayev