About This App

April 2005 was when I started my journey. I did not have clarity. I did not have a plan. I did not know where life was going or what I would become. I only knew that I had to keep moving.

There were days I worked alongside daily wage laborers. I still remember those days clearly. The work was hard, but the harder part was what I felt inside. There was a time when I could not even collect my certificates because I could not pay my fees in full. That feeling stays with you. You know you have studied, you know you have tried, but still you cannot even hold your own certificates in your hands.

Some days were spent in agriculture, doing whatever work came my way just to keep things going. There was no fixed path. No direction. Just survival.

Being the son of an engineer, there were expectations. People assumed I would do well, that I would follow a certain path. But when I could not meet those expectations, it was not seen as a phase. It was seen as failure. Words were said. Sometimes directly. Sometimes indirectly. Even within family, there were moments that made me feel small. Moments where I questioned myself. Moments where I wondered if they were right.

Those were not easy days.

But something inside me did not break.

I did not have confidence at that time. I did not have a clear goal. But I had something very simple. I kept going. Quietly. Without making noise. Without proving anything to anyone. Just taking one step at a time.

Life did not change suddenly. It moved slowly.

Step by step, I entered the world of banking and payments. Not through theory, not through big opportunities, but through real work. Small responsibilities. Long hours. Learning by doing.

I still remember those early days watching Swift transactions move. It was not just data on a screen. It was real money. Real impact. Real consequences. There was no room for carelessness. That is where something changed inside me.

For the first time, I understood responsibility at a different level.

I learned not from books, but from being accountable. From knowing that what I do matters.

Over time, I moved across different roles. Operations. Messaging. Fund transfers. Testing. Analysis. Each role was not just a job. It was a layer of understanding. Slowly, the system started making sense. Not the version written in documents. The real version. The one that runs every single day inside banks.

I began to understand how money actually moves. Across systems. Across countries. Across institutions. I understood messaging, flows, controls, compliance, and the complexity that sits behind something that looks simple from the outside.

But even after all this, there was another side of me. A side that wanted to build something of my own. And that is where I felt stuck.

For years, I believed building products was not for someone like me. I would see others creating applications, platforms, tools, and I would feel like I was standing outside a closed door. I could see what was happening inside, but I did not know how to enter.

I kept telling myself the same things: I am not technical. I need a co founder. I need a team. I need money. I need the right time.

So the idea stayed where it felt safe. In a notebook. For years.

But something inside me did not let it go completely.

Before Malla Banking Academy came into shape, I had already started trying. I built a website. It broke. I tried again. It broke again. Screens did not load. Logic did not work. Things failed again and again. There were moments where I felt this is not for me.

But every time I stepped away, I came back. Not because I was confident. But because I had hope. A very small, quiet hope that this could become something meaningful.

Then something changed. The tools became better. Not perfect. Not magical. But real enough. For the first time, someone like me could sit down, think clearly, ask questions, test things, and actually build something that works.

But I made mistakes in the beginning. I used tools like a passenger. I typed what I wanted and expected results. It worked sometimes. But the moment something broke, I was lost.

That is when I understood something very important. The problem was not the tools. The problem was my thinking.

The hard part is not coding anymore. The hard part is thinking clearly. AI is powerful. But it is also confidently wrong. It can give answers that look perfect and fail completely in reality. If you do not understand what you are building, you will not even know where the mistake is.

That is when I made a decision. I will not follow the tool. I will lead it.

I opened VS Code and made it my workspace. Not as a developer, but as someone who wanted to understand. When something was written, I read it. When I did not understand, I asked again. When something felt wrong, I questioned it.

Slowly, I moved from watching things being built to actually building them.

And I built it with one focus. Clarity.

Because I learned this the hard way. If you cannot explain your idea in simple words on paper, no tool in the world will save you later. That is why this did not start with code. It started with a notebook.

Malla Banking Academy comes from everything I have lived through. From confusion. From pressure. From humiliation. From learning. From experience. And from years of understanding how banking and payments actually work in the real world.

This is not just a platform. This is my way of taking everything that took me years to understand, and explaining it in a way that someone else can understand without going through the same struggle.

This is for the person who feels lost. This is for the person who thinks this field is too complex. This is for the person who believes they are not technical enough. Because I was that person.

And if I could move from not knowing where life was going, to understanding one of the most complex industries, and then building something real, then the barrier in front of you is not as strong as it looks.