An interview with Tengin founder Madhu on turning coconuts into a business built around farmers, villages and communities.
Updated
June 1, 2026 1:46 PM

Workers of Tengin. PHOTO: TENGIN
In Southern India, coconuts are part of daily life. They are used in food, rituals, farming and home remedies. For Tengin, a social startup whose name means “coconut” in Kannada—a South Indian language—the crop also offers a way to build a rural business with deeper local impact.
Founded by Madhu Kargunda in 2017, Tengin works with farmers, artisans and women’s collectives in Karnataka to make products from almost every part of the coconut. Its range includes virgin coconut oil, desiccated coconut powder, shell-based handicrafts, candles, home décor items and other coconut-based goods.
The larger idea is simple. Farmers should play a bigger role in the value created from the crops they grow. Tengin is trying to help rural communities move beyond supplying raw produce and take part in processing, branding, packaging and sales.
Madhu grew up in an agricultural family. Over the years, he saw many young people move away from farming to look for stable jobs in cities. To him, the problem was not farming itself. The bigger issue was that farmers often missed out on the value created after crops left the farm.
A coconut might be grown in a village, but much of the income comes later through processing, branding and retail. That gap stayed with him, eventually leading him to leave his eight-year career in IT and return to agriculture full-time.

Started with just making virgin coconut oil, Tengin has grown into a wider coconut products business. The startup is now working with around 15 to 20 farmers and artisan groups across Karnataka. It is also building production capacity for larger retail and B2B partnerships.
Today, Tengin generates annual revenue of roughly ₹50-60 lakh, or around US$52,000 to US$62,000. It has also started testing international demand, including a recent export of around 200 kilograms of desiccated coconut powder to Texas.
As Tengin expanded, the team began looking more closely at parts of the coconut that were usually treated as waste or low-value byproducts, such as coconut shells and coir. At first, Tengin treated them that way too.
“When we started, we used to burn some of the shells”, Madhu said. “Later, we realized it was an economic opportunity”.
That changed the company’s product strategy. Local artisans working with Tengin now are turning coconut shells into bowls, incense holders, candles, coffee mugs, mobile stands and handcrafted décor items.

This gives Tengin a place in the circular economy, where waste materials are reused instead of thrown away. For Madhu, though, sustainability has to do more than reduce waste. It should also create income in the community.
“We wanted to minimize waste and maximize wealth locally”, he said.
Tengin does not depend only on one central factory. Instead, it works with smaller village-level production groups that connect to a larger business network. This helps farmers stay close to their land while also taking part in processing and manufacturing. It also creates local jobs, which can reduce the pressure to migrate to cities.
Yet, the model is not always easy. In the early days, Tengin had to convince some farmers to move from chemical farming to natural farming. Moreover, the weather has also become harder to predict. Irregular rainfall and changing harvest cycles can affect coconut prices and production consistency.
Still, Madhu sees the village-based model as central to Tengin’s identity. For him, villages are living systems built on shared work, local knowledge and interdependence.
“The definition of a village is inclusiveness”, he said.

That belief also shaped Tengin’s “coco tourism” initiative. Through the program, visitors meet farmers, learn about farming practices and see how coconut products are made.
During one visit by MBA students from Indiana State University, an unexpected spell of rain gave the group a closer look at village life. Farmers gathered and began singing traditional folk songs to express gratitude to nature. For the students, it became a lesson in culture as much as business.
Madhu sees these moments as part of what rural entrepreneurship can protect.
“If villages become empty, we lose language, traditions and local knowledge too”, he said.
Tengin’s model is not difficult to copy on paper. Madhu is open about that.
“Anyone can do it”, he said, “but what matters is how you work with people”.
For him, the harder part is building long-term trust with farming communities. Tengin works through relationships more than rigid contracts. This encourages farmers and local groups to participate in the system in a more collaborative way.
That trust has become one of the startup’s strongest assets. It shapes how Tengin works with producers and how it presents its products to customers.
For Madhu, it is not enough to call a product sustainable. Customers should be able to understand where it came from, who made it and how their purchase supports the people behind it.

That matters even more in a market where terms like “eco-friendly” and “organic” have become buzzwords. Madhu knows that these words can feel empty when brands do not show what they actually mean.
“Anyone can use these words today,” he said. “What matters is whether consumers can actually see what you are doing”.
This is why Tengin focuses on transparency and storytelling. The startup wants customers to see the full journey of each coconut product, from the farm to the finished item. It also wants them to understand whose livelihood is connected to that journey.
Madhu also believes small brands cannot depend on products alone. Products can be copied, but a clear story, a trusted community and a visible impact are harder to replicate.
“Don’t try to sell only the product,” he said. “When you try to sell the product, you are being sold once”.
Each Tengin product includes details about the people behind it and how profits are shared. In that way, the company connects its coconut products to the farmers, artisans and village systems that make them possible.
For Madhu, entrepreneurship starts with the problem. Founders, he believes, should understand the problem deeply before thinking about scale and revenue.
“An entrepreneur is someone trying to solve an existing problem”, he said. “Sometimes it may be a small problem, sometimes a niche one. It could be in technology, energy, farming or any other sector—but first understand what problem you are trying to solve”.
Farming has also taught him patience. He gives the example of coffee.
“When you plant coffee, you know it may take five years before you see results”, he said, “but you still [have to] water it every day”.
He sees entrepreneurship the same way. Building systems, communities and trust takes time. Growth may be slow at first, but daily work matters.
Adaptability is another lesson he returns to often. Farming conditions change constantly, and so do markets. In both cases, people have to keep learning, unlearning and adjusting.
“Entrepreneurship is about constantly learning new things because the world is changing all the time”, he said. “You need to stay relevant, understand what connects with [your customers] and adapt accordingly”.
Looking ahead, Tengin plans to grow its farmer network, strengthen production capacity and expand its export business. Madhu is also looking to collaborate with more platforms, storytellers and communities that can help amplify the voices behind the products.
The startup is also involved in rural community initiatives, including support for government schools and menstrual health awareness programs.
For Madhu, giving back is part of how he defines success. With more resources, he would invest further in farmer education, village-level production systems and community development.
By building a business around coconuts, Tengin is also making a larger case for rural entrepreneurship. Its work shows that a modern consumer brand can grow without losing its connection to the farmers, traditions and village ecosystems that make that growth possible. For Madhu, that is the real measure of progress: creating value that stays rooted in the community.
Keep Reading
From plush figures to digital pets, a new class of AI toys is emerging — built not around screens or sensors, but around memory, language and emotional awareness
Updated
March 17, 2026 1:02 AM

Spielwarenmesse toy fair. PHOTO: SPIELWARENMESSE
Spielwarenmesse in Nuremberg is the global meeting point for the toy industry, where brands and designers preview what will shape how children play and learn next. At this year’s fair, one message stood out clearly: toys are no longer built just to entertain, but to listen, respond and grow with children. Tuya Smart, a global AI cloud platform company, used the event to show how AI-powered toys are turning familiar formats into interactive companions that can talk, react emotionally and adapt over time.
The company’s central argument was simple but far-reaching. The next generation of artificial intelligence toys will not be defined by motors, sensors or screens alone, but by how well they understand human behavior. Instead of being single-function objects, smart toys for children are becoming systems that combine language models, emotion recognition and memory to support ongoing interaction.
One of the most talked-about examples was Tuya Smart’s Nebula Plush AI Toy. At first glance, it looks like a soft, expressive plush figure. Inside, it uses emotional recognition to change its LED facial expressions in real time. If a child sounds sad or excited, the toy’s eyes respond visually. It supports natural conversation, reacts to hugs and touch and combines storytelling, news-style updates and interactive games. Over time, it builds memory, allowing it to behave less like a gadget and more like an interactive AI toy that recalls past interactions.
Another example was Walulu, also developed using Tuya’s AI toy platform. Walulu is an AI pet built around personalization. It can detect up to 19 emotional states and speak more than 60 languages. It connects to major large language models such as ChatGPT, Gemini, DeepSeek, Qwen and Doubao. Through simple app-based controls, users choose traits like cheerful, quiet, curious or thoughtful. Those choices shape how Walulu talks and reacts. Instead of repeating scripts, it adjusts its tone and behavior over time. The result is not a novelty item, but an emotionally responsive AI toy that feels consistent in daily use.
Tuya also showed how educational AI toys can extend into learning and exploration. Its AI Learning Camera blends computer vision with interactive content. When it recognizes an object, it links it to cultural and learning material. If a child points it at a foreign word, it offers real-time pronunciation and translation. It can also turn drawings into digital artwork, encouraging active creativity rather than passive screen time. In this sense, AI toys for kids are becoming tools for learning as much as play.
These products point to a larger strategy. Tuya is not just making toys — it is building the AI toy development platform behind them. Through its AI Toy Solution, developers can design a toy’s personality, memory logic and behavior without training models from scratch. The system integrates with leading AI models and supports multi-turn conversation and emotional feedback, turning standard hardware into responsive AI companions.
The platform supports multiple development paths. Brands can use ready-to-market OEM solutions, add AI to existing products or build custom toys around their own characters. Plush toys, robots, educational tools and wearables can all become AI-powered toys without changing their physical design.
Because these products are made for children and families, safety is built in. Tuya’s system includes parental controls, conversation history review and content management. It supports standards such as GDPR and CCPA with encryption and data localization.
From a business standpoint, Tuya’s pitch is speed and scale. The company says its AI toy infrastructure can cut development time by more than half and reduce R&D costs by up to 50 percent. Its AIoT network spans over 200 countries and supports more than 60 languages, making global deployment of AI toys easier.
What emerged at Spielwarenmesse 2026 was not just a lineup of smart gadgets, but a clear shift in the category. AI toys are evolving into emotionally aware systems that talk, listen, remember and adapt. Their value lies not in sounding clever, but in fitting naturally into everyday life.
The fair did not present AI toys as a distant future. It showed them as products already entering the mainstream. The real question now is not whether toys will use AI, but how carefully that intelligence is designed for children.