Kohiaido: private analytics for public places
Foot traffic, orders, queues and table occupancy for a café — measured from sound and the till, with no cameras, no stored audio, and no record that could identify a single customer.
Kohiaido gives the owner of a café or a shop the kind of analytics a large chain takes for granted — how busy the room is through the day, what sells and what it sells alongside, how long the queue runs, which tables turn — without watching anyone. It listens rather than looks: one microphone at the counter, and the point-of-sale. Everything that could name a person is discarded before it leaves the building.
What the owner opens is a dashboard; what the owner tends to read first, most mornings, is the advice sitting on top of it.
What it measures, and what it never keeps
The sensor is sound, not vision. A microphone at the counter records the room in ten-second fragments and passes each to a small server on the premises, where light models pull the fragment apart — speech from the hiss of the espresso machine from the music underneath — and count what matters: how many people, how much movement, the shape of a queue.
Speech is the hazardous part. Where a voice is found it is stripped of anything personal and reduced to something coarse and garbled; the fragment is discarded inside its ten-second window and never written to disk. The till supplies the other half — what was ordered, and when — as timestamps with no card and no name attached. The two streams are fused into figures blunt enough that no individual survives in them, and only those figures travel to the cloud. Three properties hold by design rather than by policy: the system does not identify people, does not store audio, and keeps no private data.
The dashboard
The opening view is a day at a glance: revenue against target, customers, average check, occupancy, the queue, and a reading of ambient noise that stands in for how full the room feels. A single control recomputes every figure for the day, the week, the month or the year.
The floor, in real time
A second view concerns the next hour rather than the last quarter: how many are in the queue and the wait that implies, how many seats are taken, how quickly tables turn, and where staff cover sits against demand. The floor plan colours each table by how heavily it is used, and the ambient-noise meter reports the felt busyness of the room without recording a word of it.
What customers do
Below the live view sit the order-level patterns: the split of drinks, food and retail; the items rising and falling week on week; the things habitually bought together; how long people linger; and the busiest hours of the week. None of it rests on knowing who anyone is — only on what was ordered and how the room moved.
The longer view
The final view steps back to the year: revenue by month, this year against last, the pull of weather on footfall, the swing between hot and iced drinks across the seasons, the mark left by public holidays, and a short forecast of the week ahead. It is the register in which a small business plans — when to prepare for a rush, when to let a quiet afternoon be quiet.