You don’t need a business degree, or even working arms and legs to build something that lasts.
What you do need is an idea, a bit of guts, and a reason to keep showing up.
I’m Mark Williams, and for over 20 years, I ran Flexilight NZ, a Christmas
Mark Williams at his Westminster Ave property during Christmas 2023.
You don’t need a business degree, or even working arms and legs to build something that lasts.
What you do need is an idea, a bit of guts, and a reason to keep showing up.
I’m Mark Williams, and for over 20 years, I ran Flexilight NZ, a Christmas lighting business, from my home and later, a small warehouse.
I operate from a wheelchair, typing with a splinted hand and a stick.
The business started with a few strings of lights and a second-hand modem and became a trusted brand and an unlikely personal journey.
This isn’t just about Christmas lights.
It’s about adapting, pushing boundaries, and outshining expectations. Literally.
In 1986, at 16, a car crash left me a C4/5 tetraplegic. Rehab wasn’t just about survival — it was learning life from scratch.
While others started careers, I was learning to sit upright again.
A year later, I met my first computer. It became my lifeline.
I did courses at EIT, learned Word, Excel, and basic graphics. But I couldn’t work just yet. I spent seven years strengthening muscles for tendon transfer surgery.
While rebuilding physically, I kept my mind busy, GST for my parents’ shop, CCS board meetings, and community involvement.
In 1996, the world shifted. The internet landed in NZ, and I downloaded a Spice Girls music video — five hours later, I was hooked.
I explored online business. Amway gave me my first glimpse of passive income. That led to self-help books and a diploma in Freelance Journalism.
I could tell a story, but media was a locked door back then. So, I pivoted. I taught myself web design, e-commerce, and digital marketing. I had the skills. I just needed a product.
Around 2000, I met Barry at a market. I’d been decorating my house with Christmas lights. Barry imported them.
He also sold furniture from Thailand and had a great back story, involving helping the Karen hill tribe.
Barry offered me the Hawke’s Bay retail arm of his business. I dove in. Wrote a business plan, found a shop in Napier, and hired WINZ-supported staff.
One woman even got WINZ to fund her job. It was working — sort of.
Furniture was heavy, costly to ship, and not exactly flying off the shelves.
But something else was - Christmas lights.
Even in the off-season, people asked for them. I saw the spark. I closed the store and went online, right as Trade Me took off.
Trade Me let me sell from home and eventually, my warehouse.
I focused solely on lights. Not just any lights — ones suited to Kiwi summers.
I worked with overseas suppliers to create custom designs. Rope light Motif’s, icicles, netting — all tested on my house. If it failed on my roof, it didn’t make the site. That’s how Flexilight NZ truly began.
What started in my lounge soon outgrew it, so we moved into a small warehouse.
As more containers came in, we doubled the warehouse, but sometimes even that wasn’t enough.
That’s when I invented a new game I called “Container Tetris” — the fine art of stacking, shifting, and squeezing stock into every square inch of storage space.
It was frustrating, exhausting, and strangely satisfying. The warehouse gave us the breathing room to handle volume and grow the business.
I still did it all — website design, product testing, packing, emailing customers, sorting freight, fixing plugs — all from a chair with adapted tools and a lot of patience.
Christmas was mayhem. My lounge still turned into Santa’s depot every year. But orders rolled in because I delivered what people wanted: honest, quality lights. No fluff, no fakes. If I said it worked, it worked.
Soon, councils and wedding planners came knocking. Even clients from the Pacific Islands. I became more than a retailer — I was a lighting consultant and go-to problem solver for post-Boxing Day blowouts.
I was one of the first people to import LED lights into New Zealand, working closely with Chinese suppliers to design products that suited our unique climate and tastes. By the end, I’d brought in over 60 containers.
Flexilight grew bigger than I ever imagined. By 2023, it had outgrown my lounge and “lifestyle business” dreams. I sold it.
I thought I’d retire. Then I saw an ad for the Kera Travel — a new lightweight hoist made in NZ. I’ve hated hoists most of my life, but this one? It had dignity. It worked. I saw the potential.
I sold HT Systems my biggest asset: me. I’m now the National Sales Manager for www.htsystems.co.nz.
I didn’t get rich at 30 or retire by 40. But I lit up thousands of homes, 30 cities, and a few Pacific nations. More importantly, I lit up my own path.
You can build something real with ideas, courage, and a lot of hard work.
For me, every light sold wasn’t just a product — it was a little win, a spark of independence, a reminder that purpose can glow even in the darkest places. They lit up homes, sure — but they lit up mine first.