A year ago, there was no Laravel community in Serbia. Just an idea, a lot of enthusiasm, and the quiet fear that maybe no one would show up. Here's how I grew it from 0 to +100 members, what I learned along the way, and why I keep building.
The quiet start
I launched with zero audience. Not even a small one — literally zero. The first posts about "Hey, I'm starting a Laravel community" got polite likes from friends and then disappeared into the algorithm. Most people didn't even know what Laravel was, let alone that there was a community forming around it.
Growth didn't come from ads or viral tweets. It came from LinkedIn DMs, coffee chats, and "Hey, do you know anyone who uses Laravel?" I scraped together the first members from friends, then friends of friends, then that one guy from a previous job who might be into PHP. It was slow. It was manual. But it was real.
0 to 100
Hitting 100 members felt like a milestone and a reality check at the same time. On one hand, I built something from nothing. On the other hand, 100 people registered on Laravel.rs not mean 100 people actively engaged. But I celebrated it anyway, because momentum matters. Every new member was proof that the scene wanted to exist — it just needed someone to start it.
The meetup challenge
Here's the part no one warns you about: getting people to RSVP is easy. Getting them to walk through the door is harder.
I've had meetups where half the reserved spots showed up. I've had speakers promise a talk and then go silent. I've planned logistics around numbers that never materialized. It stings a little every time, not going to lie. You start questioning whether people actually care, or if this is just another group they joined and muted.
But then someone shows up. They introduce themselves, mention they've been coding alone for two years, and suddenly they're talking shop with a senior dev from Belgrade and a freelancer from Novi Sad. That connection? That's why I do it.
Why I keep building
Because at the end of the day, I am an Artisan. That's not just a CLI command — it's a mindset. I build things that didn't exist before. I shape raw ideas into systems that people can use, learn from, and belong to.
A community is no different. It's code that compiles slowly. It's architecture you refactor as you go. Some deployments fail. Some tests flake. But you don't stop shipping.
Serbia's Laravel community is still young. I'm figuring out the rhythm of meetups, the best channels for connection, and how to turn quiet lurkers into active contributors. I am breathing it and dreaming about it every single day.
I'm learning that consistency beats perfection, and that showing up matters more than getting everything right.
If you're reading this and you've been thinking about starting something — a meetup, an open-source package, a local chapter — my advice is simple: just build it. The first version will be rough. The audience won't exist yet. People will ghost you.
Build it anyway.
I'm an Artisan. It's what I do.
