This is not a tour of the features. It is one ordinary first week, five days, one concrete thing on each of them. None of the five takes more than half an hour. By Friday evening you will not have a rolled-out process — you will have one sentence standing in the right place, and one number that is honestly zero.
Before day one
Two of the five days need something that does not live inside angajuu, and they are not the same kind of ask. Tuesday wants a Claude key stored in the settings — configuration, nothing more, because AI is included on the free plan rather than switched off. Friday wants an Atlassian connection, and that one is not a settings question: the Jira round-trip is Premium. Four days of this week cost nothing. The fifth is where that changes. The product will not mention it when you get there: no notice says so, and nothing stops you. Which is why it is worth reading here.
Everything else needs only an account. Pick one real customer conversation to work from, ideally an awkward one. The week is worth much less with a tidy example.
Day one — a raw sentence
The sentence needs somewhere to live before it needs polish, and in angajuu that place is a project. A customer requirement belongs to a project; it cannot be created without one. So the project comes first, named the way the customer names it rather than the way the contract does.
Then the sentence itself. Take the one that worries you most, not the easiest one, and write it down raw, in the customer's own words, with the vagueness intact. “We have to get the audit list out of the system somehow” is a perfectly legitimate first entry. It is unusable, and it is now in one place, which means it can be worked on instead of talked about.
One field is worth filling in today even though the form does not insist: the source. Who said this, and in which conversation. The create dialog does not mark it required, which is exactly why it stays empty — right up to the moment you try to move the requirement onward. Between Draft and In Review there is a gate, and it asks for precisely what the form left optional: a source, a title, and a description with something in it. You find out after the click, not before it. Which is a small irritation and a good compulsion: “who actually asked for this?” is answerable today and unanswerable in a fortnight.
Ten minutes, and the sentence is a draft. That is all it is worth today, and that is fine.
Day two — a question that gets answered
Juujuu does not read along on its own. Worth knowing early, because almost every tool in this category claims the opposite: an ordinary comment on a requirement gets no reply at all. Juujuu answers when it is called, by a mention of @ai or @juujuu in the comment, and the first bare word after the mention decides what kind of answer comes back — no slash in front of it.
Write exactly one thing today, on yesterday's raw sentence: “@ai quality”.
What comes back is less than you expect. The quality analysis files its marks, but what the thread carries afterwards is usually a single sentence, in English: “Quality analysis complete.” That is not a fault, it is where the product stands today. The comment thread renders the text of an answer, not its structure, and this particular answer is almost all structure.
So the assessment you can actually read lives somewhere else. Open the sentence on the Refine screen: as the screen comes up, Juujuu speaks first, with short hints on what is still open in the sentence. Unasked, with no mention typed, simply because the sentence is in front of you. Where a hint carries a concrete rewording you can hold it beside your own and take it one piece at a time — nothing is written that you have not ticked and confirmed. That is the difference between a tool that works for you and a tool that gets ahead of you.
Your job is not to accept those hints. Your job is to sort them: which of these gaps can you close from what you already know, and which one needs a five-minute phone call. That sorting is the actual work of the week, and on a Tuesday it takes about ten minutes.
Day three — the first connection
Wednesday starts with the phone call, because yesterday's sorting left one gap you could not close from memory: does “the audit list” mean the closed cases or all of them? Four minutes, and the sentence has a scope it did not have on Monday.
Then the attaching — and the first attempt goes looking for a field that is not there. You cannot hang the customer on the sentence. The customer hangs on the project, and the requirement reaches them through the project it sits in. A detour that reads like bookkeeping right up to the moment that same customer opens a second project: two projects, two promises, and neither one carries over to the other.
The second connection is the day's real work, and it arrives as a question rather than a form: which of the things we build satisfies this ask? So you create a product, and in it a sentence in your words instead of the customer's — which is the entire point of keeping the two apart. “Export the case list for a date range, with the columns an auditor asks for.” Then you link the two.
Linking wants one more thing from you, and it is the question nobody wants on a Wednesday: does that satisfy the ask completely, or only part of it? Ten seconds of thought, one choice, and you have made a decision that turns into a number tomorrow. Decline to make it and it gets made for you — and what gets chosen for you is always the most generous reading.
By the evening there are two sentences where there was one, a customer two hops away at the end of the chain, and a link that counts for precisely nothing. What that last part means is what Thursday is for.
Day four — the first number, and it is zero
You open the reports, look for your coverage, and find zero per cent. One linked sentence, one product that satisfies it, and still zero.
Zero is an answer. “Probably covered” is not.
Which makes the zero an answer rather than a fault. It answers a question you had not asked yet: has anybody confirmed that this product genuinely satisfies this ask? While the honest answer is “somebody proposed it”, the figure stays at zero. A tool that showed 100 per cent at this point would not have helped you — it would have invented a promise on your behalf, and promises invented that way surface about a quarter later. What that looks like when it does is Why requirements fail.
So you confirm the link, deliberately, as your own decision, and watch zero become a hundred. It is the first moment this week that angajuu asserts something you would be willing to put your name to.
Day five — the sentence leaves the building
Friday is the one step of this week that costs a plan. The Jira round-trip is Premium, and so is generating a requirements document, and so is every PDF and Excel export. That is where the free plan's promise ends: the sentence stands, gated, linked and covered, and the way out is what the paid plan sells. Nothing in the product stops you at that line today — it does not check the plan there at all. So this is a question of entitlement rather than of a barrier, and it sits on the last mile rather than in the middle of the workflow. Worth knowing on Monday rather than discovering on Friday.
With an Atlassian connection stored, the sentence goes to Jira — though not on the connection alone. It also has to know which Jira project, and pushing is not a permission every role holds. When one of the two is missing the product is not especially clear about which; it is five minutes to set up and half an hour to go looking for. The round-trip is what the plan sells.
A customer requirement lands there as a Story and a product requirement as an Epic — decided by the kind, not by you. What travels with it is little: the sentence, and the minimum needed to file it. No custom fields, no formatting — the description crosses as a single paragraph, and in one language only, English where an English one exists. Anybody expecting the whole requirement in Jira finds a pointer to it instead. That is not a shortfall, it is the division of labour: the issue is the task, the sentence stays the truth.
The key comes back and is recorded on the requirement, so the issue can be found from the sentence. The other direction does exist — just not for what you pushed today. The status sync only ever reads — nothing is ever written back to Jira — and it reaches product requirements with an Epic of their own. A Story from a project never appears in it. Inside angajuu it writes plenty: what the dev team ticks off in Jira can travel all the way to a Delivered on your side without you doing anything. Not for today's sentence, though.
One detail is worth two seconds now instead of a surprise in four weeks: the push happens once. Once a key sits on the requirement, a second attempt returns the same key and writes nothing. Edit the sentence in angajuu afterwards and Jira learns nothing about it. That is not a hole to route around, it is a working rule — what leaves, leaves when it is settled, and what changes after that changes as a conversation rather than as a silent overwrite.
If there is no Jira, there is a second exit on the same side of that line. Any project can produce a requirements document assembled from that project's customer requirements, downloadable as Markdown or as PDF. Two honest notes on it. It needs Tuesday's Claude key as well, and without one it stops with an error — which is the friendlier behaviour. Other things fail quietly: the mention in a comment simply goes unanswered, and Tuesday's hints do not appear at all. No error, and no sign that anything was attempted. A tool that goes silent is harder to see through than one that complains — so on a day when Juujuu is unusually quiet, check the settings first. And although the content is generated in both languages, both download formats come out in English. The German half exists, but only the in-app preview shows it.
Friday evening
What stands there now: one project with a customer on it, one product, two requirements, one confirmed link, a coverage figure that answers a question, and a sentence ready to leave. Monday to Thursday sits inside the free plan with room to spare — a week like this one does not come close to its edges. Friday is where Premium starts, and that order is deliberate: first you find out whether the loop holds for you, then you decide whether to buy the exit.
What does not stand there matters just as much. Nothing records what your sentence said on Monday; an ordinary edit to the text leaves no trace on the timeline. Which is why the source you typed on day one is not a formality — in three months it is the only thing left that can answer why this sentence exists at all. That argument, at length, is A craft nobody was taught.
And the second week is the real one. Anybody can write down a requirement once. The difference arrives the moment the next customer asks for something that sounds suspiciously like this one — and you can go and look instead of trying to remember.