When the Carousel Meets Blockchain: My Journey as a London Game Designer Crafting Oceanic Magic

I still remember my first late-night session in Notting Hill—tea steaming, rain tapping on the window—as I sketched the first prototype of what would become Starlight Key. Not as a coder, but as someone who hears the sea breathe. My father’s Yoruba proverbs whispered through Lagos storms; my mother’s Anglican hymns echoed in church pews. Together, they taught me that magic isn’t binary—it’s rhythm.

In game design, we call it ‘RTP’—Return to Play—but to me, it’s the pulse between waves and wonder. When players see coral lights flicker across midnight screens, they don’t chase wins. They chase belonging.

I designed three games that didn’t use shaders or algorithms alone. I used silence as a mechanic: pauses between dialogues where players catch their breath before diving into deep water. The ‘Star Crown Glory’ leaderboard? It wasn’t about rankings—it was about becoming the navigator your soul remembers.

We ran trials at dawn—not for loot—but for legacy. One player wrote: ‘I won my first badge not by luck… but because the ocean let me dance.’ That’s when I knew: true innovation is never just data—it’s poetry.

Today, I invite you to join me—not as a user—but as a fellow voyager. Let’s turn your screen into a sailboat—and let the stars decide where you go next.