Not a listing on somebody else's page. Your own shop, your own words, your own customers — and a way to reach the people who were already looking for you.
Budi does not make a carpenter call his work a product. Say what you do, and the whole shop takes that shape — the nouns, the fields, the buttons, and the things your trade obliges you to declare.
A menu, dishes, allergens and opening hours. Diners order; you cook.
The same menu at the rhythm of a home cook — what you are making this week, and for how many.
Aisles, stock and the things people came in for, with halal and dietary labels where they matter.
Products, variants, inventory and shipping. Gold, textiles, books, anything that comes in a box.
Bookings rather than a basket. Availability, quotes and a calendar people can actually see.
Callouts and jobs. Quote first, schedule second, invoice after.
Sessions, levels and a schedule — Quran, languages, tutoring, driving.
Jobs and routes, with the pickup and the drop-off in fields that expect them.
Memberships, donations and programs, rather than products in a basket.
A shop should look like the person who runs it.
The parts a business actually needs, not a demo of them.
Every shop, product and page on Budi has an ordinary web address — one a search engine can index, and one a customer can open with no account and nothing installed. Browsing needs no app; ordering opens it. Sharing a dish with your cousin should not cost her a download.
A general ad network sells you a guess about your own community. Budi already knows, because the people here said so on purpose. Promote a product to the exact city, language, culture and interest you serve, and see how many people match and what it will cost before anything is charged.
Opening a shop is free, and stays free while you find out whether this works. Paid tiers lift the product limit and lower the transaction fee — you move up when the volume makes it worth it, not before.
Free to start, and it takes about ten minutes.