whiteMAKO

His motivation was just as unusual. At 13, he founded whiteMAKO, a web design-turned-multimedia venture, which had since sprouted into a lucrative business and now required his care.

"I’m not really using college as a way to get a degree and then a job," he explains. "But more as a professional development opportunity." Hearing himself, he smirks. Mwakasisi will be the first to tell you he does not take himself too seriously. The photos on his personal website are littered with the social debris of a typical college life: wide grins, beer pong, disposable plastic cups. His "About Me" section declares he likes to “ote, ote, ote opples and bononos.”

Yet his manner demands seriousness. His resume bursts with accolades: The esteemed Clarence E. Groesbeck Scholarship pays his full tuition; he was featured in a 2004 issue of Ebony, and has placed first in more contests than most have entered. And of course there is his business, which now nets him about $40,000 per year.

"The revenue was kind of ridiculous for such a young age," Mwakasisi, now 20, says. "You have people working at McDonald’s or whatever, however many hours a week — 20, 30 — and making maybe $3,000 over the course of an entire semester, whereas one web design project could make that in a week."

Add to this that Mwakasisi’s is a demanding field. Web design, though ripening, is still a young and fragmented industry. Moreover, the product is tricky to make. A good web site must do more than look pleasing; it has to work well too. Good design requires a balancing act between aesthetic and functional competence difficult for many firms, let alone people.

"People are trying to do their own things," Mwakasisi says. "There’s sometimes a huge lack of professionalism." Success depends on discipline, he says, as well as direction, attention to new technologies, and of course, location.

"It’s very locale-based," Mwakasisi says. "In this Michigan area especially, we don’t really have competitors." The Ann Arbor area in particular, with its host of engineers and technology experts, brims with possibility. 

This, in part, explains his preference for Ann Arbor over Cambridge, Mass. "In highschool I was like, "oh I’m going to go to MIT, I’m going to go to MIT." Then come all these business opportunities."

Starting small

Mwakasisi was born in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. When he was in elementary school his family moved to Indiana, where his father finished a Ph.D. in civil engineering. When his father was offered a position at Western Michigan University, they again moved to Kalamazoo, then its outlying suburb, Portage.

During middle school, Mwakasisi took web design courses at Western and Kalamazoo Valley Community College. He found he had an eye for design, and experimented with a few minor projects for his father’s associates.

"What I was surprised to see was that all the work I did in my spare time, kind of fooling around, was a lot better than some of the professionals," he says.

Feeling his potential would be hampered by a standard work structure, he decided to start his own company. He registered whiteMAKO with the Kalamazoo County Clerk. By the time he enrolled in college, the firm was earning about $60,000 per year. 

Due to an efficient work model, he can now afford to tackle a dual major in Computer and Political Sciences while acitng as whiteMAKO’s Chief Executive Officer, he says. The operational core consists of about ten part-time designers, mostly plucked from business conferences and meetings through projects; most are at least four years his senior. 

But Mwakasisi says his age rarely comes up. "It’s an industry where your work speaks louder than anything. What you can do overshadows anything about you."

As the business expanded, Mwakasisi grew more involved. Now, he has his sights set on something greater than profit.

The Think Project

"A lot of people spend their lives doing their work, their daily jobs," Mwakasisi says. "They exist, but they don’t truly live."  This, he explains, inspired the nonprofit whiteMAKO offshoot, the Think Project, so named because "that’s what we’re really trying to get people to do."

The Project is the main thrust behind the claim on Mwakasisi’s personal page that he is here "to change your world." Its philosophy follows from Mwakasisi’s conviction that many wrongs could be eased through empathy and communication.

"If you look at the personal impact any one person has, it’s not as great as it could be if there was some sort of global culture," he says. "You might have friends around the world, but there’s no sense of a global community."

Project Freestyle, a soccer-centered social networking site, is the first step. The site is designed to appeal to both players and fans of the world’s most popular sport. It can be used to find pickup games, build profiles, organize leagues, and track statistics. The idea is to build an "international soccer federation."

Mwakasisi’s inspiration lies at least partially in his own devotion to the sport — his ideal day would involve a 6:00 a.m. training run.

Remix Life, a second branch to the Think Project, holds a more directly altruistic goal: To make charity better.

It aims to bridge gaps between charities and donors, Mwakasisi says. Part of this means providing details on how donations helped, such as names of the recipients. In this way, Remix Life will boost the transparency of charities and, Mwakasisi hopes, the motivation for organizations to give.

Remix Life will piggyback on the lessons of Project Freestlye, which is scheduled to launch late this month, and develop throughout the fall.

Despite the global scope of these projects, Mwakasisi imagines he will remain in the area after graduation.

"I see southeast Michigan as being sort of an intellectual pool," he says. "If someone can harness that talent to get these people to reach out to their communities, there is a lot that we can see happening."

And, of course, there are still classes to consider. "I should probably speak to my advisor," Mwakasisi says, laughing. "We’ve been doing too many exciting things at work for me to spend too much time thinking about school."