The story

How I ended up here

A security engineer, a BSc that isn't finished yet, and a lot of people doing by hand what a machine should have been doing all along.

Leo Liebenberg · Durbanville, Cape Town

What I kept seeing

Everyone was doing the machine's job.

The thing that struck me, over and over, was how much of a working week disappears into tasks that a computer would do perfectly and for free. Copying a phone number off a message into a diary. Sending the same reminder to the same kind of person at the same time every day. Writing out a quote you have written two hundred times before with three numbers changed.

None of it is hard. All of it is relentless. And it almost always happens after hours, because during hours you are doing the thing people actually pay you for. A physiotherapist does not want to be an administrator. A plumber definitely does not. But both end up being one, most evenings, for free.

The frustrating part is that it is a solved problem — just solved expensively, in software priced for companies with an operations department. The small business gets a subscription that almost fits, in dollars, from a company on another continent that has never heard of them.

Where I came from

Security teaches you to assume it will break.

I came up through cybersecurity and vulnerability management rather than through design or marketing, and I am still finishing a BSc in Cybersecurity and Networking at Eduvos. That background changes your defaults in ways that turn out to matter enormously once you start building things for other people.

You stop trusting the happy path. You assume the network drops, the API returns something stupid, the person clicks the wrong button, and somebody eventually tries the thing you hoped nobody would try. You build so that when it does happen — not if — the failure is loud, contained, and recoverable.

It also gives you an uncomfortable education in what "we'll sort the security out later" actually costs. Later usually arrives as somebody's Monday morning.

The build that taught me the pattern

Something that had to be right every morning.

The most useful thing I have built was a pipeline that ran unattended, every day, and could not be allowed to be wrong. It pulled the day's live vulnerability feeds, scored each one against exploit-probability data, and matched it against the exact installed software version on each of thousands of individual machines — per machine, not per company, because "your company has a problem" is not something anyone can act on.

When something genuinely dangerous turned up it opened a staged workflow, and nothing touched a live server until two people had signed off. Then a language model turned the whole thing into plain English: what was checked, what was actually exposed, what got fixed. Written for the business owner, not the engineer.

Three lessons came out of that, and I have used all three every week since. Verify at the level of the individual thing. Never let an automated step take an irreversible action on its own. And write the output for the person who has to read it, because a report nobody opens is the same as no report.

Why both

A website is only the front door.

Plenty of people will build you a website. Rather fewer will ask what happens after somebody uses it. That gap is where most small businesses actually lose money — the enquiry arrives and then sits, or gets answered eleven hours later, or gets written on a pad and forgotten.

So I do both halves. The site is built by hand as static HTML, because it has to open instantly on a cheap phone with one bar of signal, and because a site with no database and no plugin stack is a site with very little to attack. Behind it sits the part that actually gives you your evenings back: bookings, reminders, quotes, follow-ups, and an assistant that drafts the rest.

They are the same job. Splitting them across two suppliers is how you end up with a beautiful site that nobody has connected to anything.

Now

So I started Trevern.

Trevern Technologies is the studio I founded in Durbanville, and it is where the client work lives. Websites, WhatsApp and online booking systems, and the automation behind them, for small businesses across Cape Town's northern suburbs and remotely anywhere in the world.

It is a team of highly skilled engineers covering design, build, security and automation, and it is deliberately set up so that you deal directly with the people doing the work. One fixed price in writing before anything starts. You own what gets built — site, tools, data, client list — and you can walk out with all of it any day you like. We would rather keep your business by being good at it.

Trevern is new, and I would rather say that than pretend otherwise. There is no decade-long client list to show you. What there is: work you can inspect the source of, a fixed price that makes an overrun my problem rather than yours, and the undivided attention of a business that has everything to prove.