Nick Karnel Williams

Father | Husband | Mentor

At times I will get a moment to share about my life through writing. Thank you for reading

  • Friday nights remind me of the doors—the years spent working them alongside some of my closest brothers in arms. Weekends like this make me reflect on what friendship, brotherhood, and true connection really look like. A lot of long nights, 12-hour shifts, eight-hour shifts, fights, and violence.

    These days, Friday nights are different. I vacuum the house, tidy up, take a good shower, and, before I settle in to chill, I watch Netflix. But there are nights I miss it—the camaraderie, the laughs, the caffeine-fuelled conversations, the late-night coffees, the cigarette breaks. The shared experiences. The shared life. The brotherhood of men striving to be better, to grow, to want more out of life.

    But what does that “more” look like? What does success look like?

    To some, success is material—having the house, the car, the bank account that lets you do as you please. To others, it’s recognition—being seen as someone who “made it.” But what is true wealth? What is true success?

    It’s a conversation I’ve had often this week with some of my closest people. The deeper I dive into my journey, the more my perspective shifts. I see the pressure, the responsibility, and the financial sacrifice that come with it.

    I once saw a TikTok video where a guy said, “If you haven’t been close to bankruptcy at least three times, you’re not truly running a business.” At the time, I laughed because we were doing well—profitable, even a little reckless. But then, you hit the down periods. January to June isn’t our strongest season, and maybe I just haven’t figured out which country I need to sell into more.

    This week, I’ve been thinking about success more deeply. Not just in a business sense, but in a life sense.

    A few weeks ago, I was sitting in the waiting area at Blacktown Hospital while my brother was sick. I looked at the security guards and thought, These guys are lucky. Not because of the job itself—because, let’s be real, some jobs suck—but because they get to clock in, do their shift, and go home. They get to switch off.

    For three years, I haven’t switched off. Four-hour sleeps. Waking up thinking about MATAI. Going to bed thinking about MATAI. The reality of entrepreneurship is that your mind never rests. And yet, I find myself appreciating the simple things more—the stability of a 9-to-5, the ability to switch off, the small luxuries of life: food on the table, the lights on, the internet working, a roof over your head, a car to drive, the ability to take a holiday.

    A lot of people don’t realise that this—this everyday life—is success.

    Success isn’t just the money or the status. It’s waking up, breathing fresh air, appreciating your loved ones, contributing to society in a way that fulfils you. It’s dreaming, executing, failing, learning, and pushing forward. It’s love. It’s laughter. It’s growth.

    I once heard Kobe Bryant say, “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey.” And every day, as I navigate the highs and lows of running MATAI, I get that a little more.

    So tonight, I sit here thinking about my brothers still working the doors. They don’t carry the same weight of responsibility that I do now—leading a brand that represents communities across the U.S., New Zealand, Australia, and the islands. Raising three boys. Providing for my family. Keeping my wife happy. Finding time to enjoy life.

    What is success to you? Could you be happy just being happy?

    Appreciate your time on this earth. It’s not forever. None of us know when we’ll leave this place.

    For me, I’ve come to realise that my success won’t fully be seen in my lifetime. By the time MATAI reaches its true potential, its full power and legacy, I may not even be here to witness it. But if I get to see a glimpse of it, I’ll be grateful. And that, to me, is success.

  • Transparency in entrepreneurship comes down to a few things. Lately, I’ve been seeing a lot of comments and remarks about online digital marketing—specifically, the whole “selling a course on how to sell a course” scheme. Unfortunately, some of our Pacific people have fallen victim to the trap. The desperation to succeed fast or the eagerness to be successful makes them believe these con men who promote it.

    But here’s the thing—if you’re silly enough to fall for it, that’s on you. Do your own research before investing in anything.

    I had to learn this lesson the hard way. I was in the Trillionaire Thugs community when an older man—I won’t name him—advised me to jump on something called QX. He said it would run money through Bitcoin and spit out a ton of cash later. Over COVID, a lot of people were desperate to make money. I was one of them. I invested around $8,000 into it—money I didn’t really have at the time. Every day, I’d come home and see my investment “grow” overnight. It was an illusion. Another one was Prime Capital, where I lost about $3,000.

    That was on me. I believed in the hype.

    And it didn’t stop there. I even trusted someone I went to school with—someone I considered a friend—who pitched me an NFT project. He convinced me to get involved, even offering me $30K to be the media manager for it. That money never came. When I caught up with him, he talked about owning property and buying nearly $20 million in Bitcoin. I fell for it because I didn’t ask the right questions. I wanted to believe in something so badly that I ignored the red flags. Worse, I even encouraged friends and family to invest.

    I take full accountability for that.

    For anyone out there desperate to become wealthy, let me tell you this: everything takes time. I’m in year three of running a business, and it’s harder than the first two years. We’ve made mistakes, but I understand the responsibility we have to get it right. If Matai doesn’t get it right, if we mess this up, then the dream of many Pacific entrepreneurs shatters with it.

    The truth? We are not wealthy. Our brand is growing, but for those Googling “Matai Watches net worth”—put my net worth at zero. Instead, put it down to purpose.

    That’s enough for now.

  • Yesterday, I had the privilege of meeting with Councillor Talia from Blacktown City Council to discuss starting a separate Higher Learning program for the Blacktown region. We showed her the video, which she really loved.

    What’s so special about this lady? Well, she’s the first Pacific Islander in council and represents our people in the largest Pacific community in Australia—right here in Sydney.

    Talking with her for quite some time, I got really inspired.

    I got inspired because, at the drop of a hat, I realised I could give up chasing the brand dream to serve our people. In that moment, I felt like it was possible for me to become a councillor as well. Someone who sits on local government, someone who can influence change. But why?

    In 2016, I moved with my wife and kids to St Marys from Massey, West Auckland, to chase the Australian dream—making money for the family and living comfortably. Years later, though, New Zealand and Australia are quite similar in living costs. Wow. So much for the dream, lol. However, I moved here with the intent to just be a dad to my kids, raise them well, and give them a better shot at life. St Marys was the last place I thought I would live full-time. I hated this place on my first trip back in 2013—I thought it was so ghetto at the time.

    Fast forward to 2016, and my thinking was, “Yup, okay, we’ll just bypass this place eventually and move to Melbourne.”

    But what I found, as I became accustomed to this place, was how much I would fall in love with it. How my kids had fallen in love with their school and their life. And the dream of moving to a flashier area just disappeared.

    I went from hating this area to it becoming a place I truly call home. The more I have been around the community, the more I have fallen in love with it. Yeah, we have our issues here and there, but for me, I truly love it here. I couldn’t imagine moving elsewhere.

    In 2016, when I moved here, I was frowned upon for saying I lived here. My Aussie mate put it bluntly:

    “The reason it has a bad name is ‘cause there’s too many Islanders living there.”

    I mean, yeah, that was the suggestion—but it’s far from the truth. Yes, there are a few of us here, but it’s so diverse in culture. It’s not perfect, but I love it.

    Talking with Councillor Talia made me think—what do I want for this community? I want to make change for the better. I want to help make better decisions for our community and to be a voice for us to the rest of the city and the country.

    We were that suburb people weren’t interested in, but we are also that suburb that has more cultural growth than any other region. There is so much winning that goes on here, and I’m damn proud to be from here.

    Talking with Councillor Talia made me realise how much I want to be here and how much I want to see our community thrive as the best in Sydney. I love the underdog story, and I’m all about building up our people and growing. So I made a conscious decision—

    In 2027, I want to run for council.

    I want to be on the board, and I want to help with change—not just in St Marys, but across the Penrith district.

    I have two years to figure out how to run.
    I have two years to figure out the nuts and bolts.
    I have two years to get out into my community even more, to see what’s going on out there—one business and organisation at a time.

    If Talia can become the first Pacific Islander on council, then I want to be the first Pacific Islander male for St Marys and the Penrith district.

    New goals.

  • This is something I need to address.

    We are a Pacific-owned and operated business, and like many others, we’ve faced challenges along the way. Yes, we’ve found success, but what often goes unseen are the costs that come with it.

    When we first started and had some money to spend, we gave back in a big way—sponsoring teams, supporting fundraisers, and donating to people we had never even met. We went all in because we believed in uplifting our community. At the time, it felt like the right thing to do—for our people and for brand awareness. But if I’m being real, I wasn’t thinking about marketing; I was thinking about getting our product out there. We gave away so much—whether online, in person, or through TikTok giveaways—that we became the brand people expected to fund their community projects.

    And you know what? I loved helping our people. I still do. But here’s what I’ve realised: When it came time for us to seek support for our own youth programmes, that same generosity wasn’t reciprocated. I’ve kept receipts. The expectation can’t be one-sided.

    So here’s the new reality: If you’ve never supported our brand—never purchased a product, never given back in any way—we’re no longer considering sponsorship requests. If you’re all about taking without ever giving, we’re not interested. We live this brand every day. We invest in our community, but we’re done with freeloaders who expect us to fund their initiatives when they’ve never spent a cent on ours.

    Just the other day, I had someone reach out for a conversation about helping our people and the kids. I respected that—until the conversation ended with, “Uce, can you sponsor my fundraiser?” First of all—nah. We just met. The work we do in the community is real, but we’re not here to be taken advantage of.

    The truth is, I now have to be more cautious in my approach. I’ve always been 100% real, but as our brand grows, so does the scrutiny we’re under. If you’ve never supported the brand, don’t expect handouts. Go ask Nike or Adidas and see what they’ll do for you.

    At the end of the day, it’s not our job to go broke so others can keep asking for more.

  • New week, same grind. Lately, I’ve been thinking about all the work around us. But is it really chaos, or just the natural flow of life?

    Today, I’m heading to Penrith City Council to discuss a potential collab. Over the weekend, I worked on some content—something I’ve admitted isn’t my strong suit. But I’m pushing through, learning to put myself out there more, and so far, the feedback has been great. The question is, how long will that last? Let’s be real—people love something until they don’t.

    Since launching, we’ve had an overwhelming amount of love, but of course, there’s always that handful of watch industry critics who seem set on tearing us down. Why? Is it because our movement doesn’t meet their so-called standards? Or do they just see us as another “Chinese rip-off”?

    Here’s the truth: we never claimed to be watch experts. We just created something we loved—our own watch, our way.

    Most people buy watches because they look good, not because they’re obsessing over the movement inside. It’s like cars—if you’re in a car club, specs matter. But for the everyday person? Style comes first.

    For us Pacific Islanders, finding a watch that fits has always been a bigger issue than what’s inside. Let’s be real—if you’ve got bigger wrists, shopping for watches can feel like stepping into an athletic store as a bigger guy. It’s uncomfortable. Jewellery stores aren’t exactly welcoming when you’re just looking, especially when there’s an expectation that you should already have money to spend.

    That’s why G-Shocks were always the go-to—affordable, stylish, and most importantly, they fit. Once we knew they worked for us, we all jumped on board. And that’s the same energy behind MATAI. We made watches that fit us, and our people backed it because it was made for us, by us.

    At first, I focused on fit, cultural meaning, and what the brand represented. The technical side of movements came later. I’ve seen brands like Daniel Wellington get roasted, yet they still performed well because the story was a good one. The difference? Our story isn’t just marketing—it’s real.

    We started this journey in security—long nights, unpredictable situations, and dealing with all sorts of people. Some of us got hurt, some faced real problems, but through it all, we had each other’s backs. For $30 an hour, we were responsible for millions in cash, but what mattered most was making sure we all got home safely.

    That brotherhood, that sense of looking out for each other—that’s where MATAI comes from. It’s built on trust, community, and culture. This isn’t just some branding exercise; it’s real life.

    Faith played a big role in Andrew’s journey, and it’s led us here, to a watch brand that’s more about people than it is about specs. MATAI isn’t for everyone—it’s for us, by us, honoring our culture and our experiences.

    We’re not pretending to be Swiss watchmakers. Did we create a revolutionary movement? No. Did we understand industry specs from day one? Not really. But we built something that worked for us, and we’ve grown from there.

    We didn’t come into this trying to impress watch snobs. We came in with purpose. We’re here to learn, improve, and build something meaningful. And if the industry doesn’t want to accept that, that’s on them.

  • A Father’s Perspective

    Here’s the thing—Stephen A., you’ve made a career out of running your mouth on TV. I’ve watched you for years, both when you were right and when you were way off. And I’ll give you this—you’re one hell of a journalist. Some of your analytics are interesting, even if I think you miss the mark half the time. But let’s be real, who’s actually sitting there fact-checking in the moment? It’s all about ratings. You’re loud, provocative, and even rap on air like Ludacris. But sometimes, the things you say? Absolutely ridiculous.

    I caught bits and pieces of your recent ESPN segment. And yeah, LeBron said, “Shut the fuck up,” because you were talking about his son.

    Now, I don’t even know where I’m going with this, but I’ll say this—LeBron gets a lot of slack as a player. He’s already cemented as one of the greatest to ever do it. But that’s not even what I respect most about him.

    Do people realise he opened a school for underprivileged kids? That outside of basketball, he’s outshined Michael Jordan in so many ways? His philanthropy is unmatched.

    We were both born in ’84—arguably the greatest year for thinkers and doers. We sit between generations, able to connect both worlds. ’80s babies, but those ’84 babies? We different.

    I won’t lie—I was on the bandwagon for years. I was a die-hard Kobe fan, and LeBron was always in the conversation. But once I really started learning about him, my mind was blown.

    So what’s the point of this blog?

    As a father of three, I look at parenting differently. I let my kids do their thing, hoping they find their own direction. My biggest goal? That they grow up to be great humans. I don’t care if they become doctors, lawyers, or athletes—I just want them to chase their dreams and live a life of purpose. What I won’t accept is them sitting around with no ambition.

    That’s why this whole situation hit home for me. Some fathers push their kids to live their own unfulfilled dreams. They expect their kids to make them proud and even provide for them. That’s not me.

    I respect LeBron for stepping in and getting a bit gangster with Stephen A lol. We let our kids live, but at the end of the day, no one is too big to be protected.

    A father will always protect his child in whatever capacity he can—but imagine doing it on the biggest stage of them all. Imagine being one of those children, and then imagine not.

    To the parents I’ve seen who don’t protect their kids—to the ones whose children used to show up at the club when I was working security, looking for their mum and dad because there was no milk in the fridge and no one had been home for two days—I have no love for you.

    I have love for the parents who truly do their best. The ones who sacrifice, who protect their children at all costs.

    The biggest player in the world can still show us things off the court that are far superior to his legacy on it. That I can vibe with for today 🙂

  • What is Higher Learning?

    Over 20 years ago, I found myself in the small town of Gisborne on the east coast of New Zealand. At the time, as a young Pacific man navigating life in Auckland, I had literally run away from home. The details of that journey are a story for another day, but what truly matters is what came next.

    It was in Gisborne that my older brother and I founded the Higher Learning Performing Arts program. We saw firsthand how performing arts could be a powerful vehicle for change—helping young people make better decisions, express themselves, and find purpose. Now, two decades later, we’re back in Western Sydney, revamping this initiative to once again make an impact on the next generation.

    I’ll share more about the stages of this journey in future posts, but for now, I just wanted to put this out there.

    How You Can Support Higher Learning

    To keep this program running, we need to raise funds. A big part of that comes from leveraging our relationships with brands and businesses, asking them to donate to this cause. Thankfully, we’ve been fortunate to receive a lot of support.

    As part of this, Matai will be contributing to the effort, topping up the prize pool to a total of $10,000 worth of prizes.

    If you believe in what we’re doing and want to support the movement, head over to matai.world and grab some tickets. Every purchase helps us continue our mission of using performing arts to create real change.

    Stay tuned—there’s so much more to come.

    To purchase click here

  • This morning, I found myself scrolling through TikTok. Yesterday, I had the idea to create content—something that aligns with current trends. I’m not one to speak much, but I thought, What if I could make content without saying a word? So, I did. The goal was simple: experiment and try new things for the brand.

    Last year, we lost our content creator, JP. Our conversations had always been about growth—his pursuit of bigger things and, of course, the financial realities of running a business.

    Truth be told, this business isn’t easy.

    We started with 2,500 watches. The goal? To get my uso Andrew’s four years of hard work back. We didn’t have a lot of capital. In fact, we were still working regular jobs, covering our DHL bills out of our wages just to send out free gifts. More Andrew than me, honestly.

    That cost about $900 a week just in giveaways. Imagine setting a goal of giving away $10,000 worth of products, only to realize two years later, we had moved closer to $250,000 in giveaways—supporting local communities, businesses, and events. Just two Polynesian boys with no brand experience, giving away a ton of stuff.

    The amount of vultures that showed up along the way was enough to make anyone quit. But we pushed through.

    We gave a lot, and in return, we took some hits.

    But with those struggles came blessings. We hit $1 million in revenue within 18 months, and we’re still selling today. That’s something we’re proud of.

    Scaling a business, though, changes things. Ideas get bigger. The costs get crazier. The collaborations we once paid for? Now, the requests from celebrity influencers to “gift” them watches never stop.

    We still say yes—when it makes sense, when it honors those who have truly put in the work.

    But the deeper truth? As CEO, I’m still learning. People think we have it all figured out, but we’re still figuring it out every day.

    With growth comes expectation. People think we should do more. That we owe more.

    Funny how that works. You give a lot, and somehow, that means you should give even more. All part of the marketing strategy, right?

    I respect JP for what he built within our TikTok community. But it wasn’t until I logged in recently that I saw the sheer number of messages—people just asking for free stuff. Somehow, we became the brand everyone expected a freebie from.

    It worked in both our favors. My uso wanted to move forward, but still had love for what we built. At the same time, we had to cut back on marketing spend and shift the mindset away from constant handouts.

    Not everyone deserves the results of our hard work for free. Especially when each watch costs $300+.

    Why our price point? Why our margin? Because it allows us to do more.

    We don’t drive Lambos. We don’t live some flashy lifestyle. When I left my 9-to-5 in security to pursue this full-time, I told myself: As long as I can match my old wage, I’m good. And three years later? I still only pay myself my old security wage.

    Not every month is a good month. Not every day brings in sales. Realistically, how many watches can you sell?

    Well, we’ve moved over 20,000 watches, and yet we still face challenges. Not “struggling”—but dealing with the realities of the brand we’ve built.

    This year, I’ve pulled back on sponsorships. Not because I don’t believe in giving back, but because the focus now is on spending less and making more to secure the future of the brand.

    That means fewer big collaborations. More organic content. Less reliance on Facebook ads.

    I took a step back from social media for a while. But recently, I felt inspired again—like those moments you watch a YouTube clip and get that spark back. A reminder of my commitment to this.

    And it’s not just Matai Watches anymore. We’ve started building another company—Matai Arts and Innovation. This one focuses on services, which means balancing two businesses at once.

    Retail marketing is a beast. And ironically, while we aim to spend less, we’re actually overspending just to make money this year. Meanwhile, Matai Arts and Innovation runs on no money and will rely on funding.

    Business isn’t for everyone.

    But it’s for me.

    And every day, the challenge remains the same: figure it out.

  • This is my first official blog. I sit here wondering—what value can I bring to you, the reader? I have no subscribers yet, and I might not for a while. Let’s be real—why read when you can just watch a video, right?

    The thing is, I’ve struggled to adapt to video content. As the owner of Matai, it’s part of what we do, and being a public figure—especially as a Pacific Islander—comes with a responsibility to our people and culture. But for me, I just want to talk about some real shit. I want to express myself in a way that feels natural.

    I know I have value to share, and if you’re reading this, you obviously have some interest in me. So, welcome.

    Why a Blog and Not Video?

    Bit by bit, I’m going to bring you the most honest and transparent view of my life, through my eyes. I’ll be writing about a lot—business, personal experiences, struggles, wins, and the journey of figuring things out.

    I know video is where it’s at, but writing has always made me feel a certain way. It gives me time to think, to lay things out. And yeah, my wife is a spelling and grammar nazi, but this is my platform—I’ll do it my way.

    What’s the Point of This Blog?

    Right now, this is about personal branding. It’s not about making money (or maybe it is down the line), but really, it’s about sharing knowledge and experiences—whether that’s business, culture, life, or just whatever’s on my mind.

    I see this blog as a track record. Eventually, I’ll build up the confidence to move into audiobooks, podcasts, and video, but for now, this is where I’ll start. Not as Nick the Matai Watches owner, not as Karnel the artist, not as Nick the tutor from Higher Learning—just me.

    This is where you’ll get to know me if you care to.

    A Quick Intro – Who Am I?

    I’m Nick Williams. Born and bred in West Auckland, half Cook Islander, half Niuean. Father of three boys, married to a beautiful wife, and living the everyday domesticated family life. It’s not perfect, but it’s real.

    I’ve been up and down the road—chasing a rap career, trying my hand at podcasting, working in the security industry, running a collectibles business—and now, I’m the co-owner of Matai Watches, alongside my uso and the founder, Andrew.

    I’ve done a lot, failed a lot, and learned even more.

    What’s Next?

    Every week, I’m going to try my best to blog. I’ll refine topics, reflow subjects, and maybe even plan things out (but let’s be honest, we’ll see how that goes).

    For now, I’ll leave it here and come back fresh next week. If you’re here reading this—thank you.

    Let’s see where this goes.

  • Today is more than just another day—it’s the start of something I’ve been meaning to do for a long time. After decades of experiences, lessons, wins, and losses, I’ve finally launched my own personal branding website. This space will be where I share my thoughts, insights, and the journey that has shaped me over the past 30 years.

    For those who know me, you know I don’t do things halfway. Everything I’ve built—whether it’s Matai Watches, Higher Learning, MATAI Arts and Innovation, or the countless projects I’ve put my heart into—has been about purpose and impact. This website will be no different.

    I want this platform to be real. No fluff, no polished “success story” that skips the struggle. Just raw reflections, the lessons I’ve learned, and the mindset that has kept me pushing forward.

    Over time, I’ll be diving into:
    Business & Entrepreneurship – What worked, what didn’t, and the strategies I swear by.
    Personal Growth – The mindset shifts that have helped me evolve.
    Creative & Performing Arts – How expression has played a major role in my journey.
    Community & Giving Back – Why impact will always be the bottom line.

    This isn’t just a website. It’s a journal of experience, a roadmap for growth, and hopefully, a source of inspiration for those carving their own path. If you’ve been rocking with me for years or if you’re just tuning in now—welcome. This is just the beginning.

    Stay locked in. The best is yet to come.

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