Where it started

For the child who keeps asking.

It began with a child who never ran out of questions. Why does the digger dig? Where does the moon go in the morning? We wanted to answer the way a good book does — with a picture to look at and a voice telling the story — and to keep answering, as the questions kept changing. Tinku is what grew out of that.

An early handmade Tinku in a wooden case, a boy-and-tiger line drawing on its display, resting on a child's play mat Before it was a product, it was a birthday gift for one curious kid — a little box we built by hand so the questions always had an answer.

The first attempt

The day the idea stopped being an idea.

Answering a child sounds simple until you try to build it. The hard part was holding a picture and the right voice together, at the exact moment a child is looking. The first version that managed it was just a bare circuit — a loose display wired to a board, with a battery taped on. But when a letter appeared on that little screen and the page turned, it stopped being an idea. It was real.

Loose wires, a taped-on battery, no case at all — and a page turning on its own. The first time it felt real.

Giving it a body

Earning a body a child would reach for.

A thing that works in your hands still has to earn a place in a child's. So the wooden box gave way to a printed shell — sturdier, screwed together, with real buttons a child could press to turn a page or go back to a favorite without asking anyone. From there it was a long string of small decisions: where the buttons go, what the case feels like, and — since it's meant for kids — what might make them smile.

A Tinku in a black 3D-printed case with screwed corners, showing a line drawing of a mother holding a toy truck above a child
The first real shell. Not pretty yet, but finally something that could take being dropped, carried, and loved.
Two early 3D-printed cases in pale green and yellow, both displaying a sleeping owl
We started giving it color, still working out where small hands would want the buttons.
A green prototype with small antlers, three black front buttons, and an alphabet book on its display
Then a thought: what if it didn't look like a gadget at all? The first time we tried giving it a little character.
A peek inside the prototype notebook
An early case design drawing with side buttons and a speaker opening
One of the ideas that didn't make it — buttons on the side, a speaker cut into the front.
An alternative case design drawing with buttons along the top
Another road not taken, with the buttons running along the top.

Filling it with stories

The part that was never about the hardware.

All of it — the wires, the cases, the buttons — was only ever in service of this: a child, holding a book they couldn't put down. A kid obsessed with musical instruments should have a book about musical instruments — the kind you can never find on a shelf. So we made that possible. The stories come from what a child actually reaches for, not from what someone decided every child should like.

Because every child's "favorite" is different, Tinku isn't a fixed shelf. New books can be made as a child's interests change, including bilingual ones so a story can be enjoyed in more than one language. And once a book is loaded, it plays without an internet connection — so it works at bedtime, in the car, anywhere.

Three finished Tinku players in blue, yellow, and green, showing Sea Animals, Milo's Moon Mission, and The Monkey and the Crocodile
This is the moment the whole thing was for — real stories, running on a book a child can hold.
The finished Tinku: a rounded green case with orange buttons and bear ears, showing a sleeping owl and a crescent moon on its display

Where we are now

What would you make for your child?

We're committed to making learning fun — and we're always listening and improving. If there's something you'd love to make for your child, tell us. We'd genuinely like to hear it.

You can reach us at hello@playtinku.com.

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