From Soldering Iron to Microphone: Our Debut on Meltem TV

Usually, preparing for TEKNOFEST looks like this: liters of coffee, the smell of solder fumes, endless lines of code, and testing the chassis in rough field conditions. But this time, our schedule was interrupted by an unexpected phone call. We were given the chance to step out of the workshop and present our club, Orinium, and our UGV project on national television. The goal was simple yet ambitious: to make a statement and find sponsors ready to support the development of autonomous systems in Turkey. Everything happened incredibly fast. The producers asked for photos of the team and the project. We sent over the best shots we had, and shortly after, we saw the official announcement on Twitter.

Seeing a professionally designed poster where your face is right next to the famous host Uğur Önver, was a bit surreal. But there was no time for reflection—we had to move. The Meltem TV studios welcomed us with controlled chaos. We went downstairs and immediately found ourselves in the epicenter of the action. No long hours in dressing rooms or rehearsals. "Just keep the conversation going," Uğur told us a minute before airtime. "I'll lead, you just follow. It will go smoothly." Then, the CANLI (Live) sign lit up.

Despite this being my first experience on TV, the nervousness vanished the exact moment I started talking about the project. As you can see in the shot above, I was fully in "game mode." The caption on the screen reads: "KELEŞ: 30 PEOPLE ARE WORKING IN THE BACKGROUND." It was a proud moment to see that acknowledgement on national TV. Even though I was the one in the frame, I was representing the hard work of our entire 30-person engineering team back at the university. My friend and colleague Eren and I didn't just talk about what we are building now, but also about our vision for the future.

Our goal isn't just a competition toy. We see this platform as the foundation for rescue robots. Imagine a UGV equipped with a high-power pump that can enter fire zones inaccessible to humans and extinguish flames autonomously.

The most interesting part of television is what the viewer doesn't see. Sitting at the desk, I could watch myself on the studio monitors, see the cameramen working, and feel the unique rhythm of a live broadcast. It turns out that behind the smooth image lies the massive effort of a team staying in the shadows. We talked for quite a while, and thanks to the host's experience, the conversation felt lively and natural. It was an excellent crash test for my communication skills: explaining complex engineering solutions to a broad audience in a way that remains engaging. It seems we succeeded. Below is a short clip from the broadcast that was posted on Twitter: This experience taught me the most important lesson: if you truly believe in your project, you can pitch it to anyone—whether it's a competition judge or millions of viewers watching at home.