Our story

Sally is the reason I first imagined building something for students. The moment that stuck was when I saw her GCSE results. She could explain engineering ideas most adults struggle with, solve problems quickly, and had been obsessed with planes, trucks, F1, and how things work since she was small. She memorised hundreds of car models before plenty of kids had nailed phonics. So when her grades did not match her mind, it never made sense.

From nursery through college, school suspected something was wrong but rarely acted. She was in detentions constantly, sent to isolation, punished for things she could not control. Every parents' evening echoed the same line: “She's capable, but lazy.” By the end of each year her exercise books often held little more than dates and titles — not because she did not care, but because support and understanding were not there.

She has severe ADHD. She was only diagnosed at eighteen, after failing her A-levels — finally a name for it, years after schools had blamed laziness instead of looking properly. What she needed was not another lecture on effort — it was someone to hold the plan, the pacing, and the follow-through so her brain could do what it already does best: learn deeply when the path is clear.

Sally is not the only reason Offload exists. I have known students — many of them young women — pulling ten-hour shifts at places like Amazon while studying nursing: courses that are brutal on memory and practical hours, all so they could keep their heads above water and not leave university deep in debt. I have been friends with people juggling two jobs on top of a degree.

I have watched A-levels grind people down — myself included, when I naively took maths, biology, chemistry, and physics together. The workload is not a character flaw; it is a design problem when your brain is also carrying rent, shifts, and survival maths.

Offload is for all of that: the mental offload of not holding the whole plan in working memory when you are already exhausted.

Offload is that scaffold. You bring your notes, syllabus, and past papers; you choose study methods that fit how you actually work — flashcards, mind maps, exam-style questions, summaries, spaced practice, timers when you need them, and more. Offload turns that into a living plan: what to revise next, what to review, and when it belongs on your calendar, with Google Calendar sync so your week matches the plan instead of living only in your head.

For ADHD especially, the point is to strip out the executive load — less “where do I start?”, less tracking and juggling. The system adapts as you go: weak topics and mistakes feed back into what you see next, and when life gets in the way, the schedule can move without you rebuilding everything from scratch.

Under the hood we pair that with the world's leading retention algorithm across study items so you are not just cramming — you are pushing material toward durable memory, including topics from early in the year, as exams approach.

Deep, personalised learning tech is often locked in expensive enterprise deals. I did not invent the science behind spacing and retrieval — I am trying to make serious tooling accessible to ordinary students who cannot stitch together a patchwork of expensive apps or wait for an institution to buy them a seat.

The mission is ethical, clean, equitable edtech: tools that treat students fairly, keep the product legible and honest, and widen access instead of narrowing it to whoever can pay for a pile of subscriptions.

Offload levelled the field for someone close to me as we built it. I want it to do the same for anyone on a tight budget, working part-time, caring for family, starting late, or carrying chronic overwhelm — especially while so many young people are under strain in a youth mental health crisis. Academic support should not be a privilege. Stressed and vulnerable students deserve tools that respect how brains and lives actually work.

The aim goes wider than one country or one kind of student. We want to push educational equity — in the UK and beyond — whether that means helping someone mentally offload their revision, or contributing materially to schools where resources are thin. In places such as The Gambia, we are in talks with the SPOT Project about how Offload can support young people and institutions, not only through the product but through partnerships that put something real into classrooms and communities.

Scaling access takes capital, so we are in conversation with investors — but only with people who treat ethical, equitable edtech as non-negotiable, not a slide buried in a deck. The mission is the guardrail for what we build and how we grow; nothing is allowed to outrun it.

We are opening a limited beta and waitlist on purpose: small enough that we can actually listen and iterate with real students in real weeks, not drown in noise. Early people in get a direct say in what we ship next — ADHD-friendly pacing, clarity, and motivation that do not feel like punishment.