Last updated: 28 July 2026 · Applies to Uchi for iOS (iOS 17 and later)
Uchi is a private home-management app for one family: shared shopping lists, bills and splits, chores and rewards, routines, a family calendar, meals and recipes, a pinboard, savings goals, subscriptions, pets and plants, home care, household documents, keepsakes, a private journal, and a quiet food log. It is made solely by Enes Kırgıl. This policy explains, in plain language, exactly what the app stores, where it goes, and — just as importantly — what it never collects.
Uchi is designed for a single household — the adults who set it up, and the children and guests they invite. Adults run the household: they invite members, set permissions, approve things, and can edit or delete anything the family has created.
Everyone old enough to hold their own account has one: the adults, and any teenager or guest who joins with the invite code. Children do not have their own account in the ordinary sense — a parent makes it for them, and the parental-consent section below sets out exactly what that parent is agreeing to.
This is the part of Uchi that changed, so it gets said first and plainly. Until this version, Uchi signed your phone in anonymously and asked for nothing — no address, no password, no name. That was a genuine privacy promise, and it had a genuine cost: an anonymous sign-in lives on exactly one device, so a phone that was lost, broken, stolen or wiped took the whole household with it, permanently, and nobody — not even the person who made the app — could give it back. Uchi now asks every grown-up for an email address and a password so that a home outlives a phone.
What a grown-up gives, and where it goes. An email address, typed once when you make your account: Uchi mails six digits to it, you type those back into the app, and the address is confirmed. Until it is confirmed it counts for nothing. It is held by the service that runs sign-in and hosts the database on Uchi’s behalf, in the European Union (Frankfurt, Germany) — the same place as everything else your family adds. And a password, at least ten characters: Uchi does not store your password anywhere, in any form. It goes to the sign-in service, which keeps only a scrambled, one-way value it can check a future attempt against. Nothing else is asked for — no phone number, no legal name, no social login, no address book, no date of birth at sign-up.
What your address is used for — the whole list. Confirming your account. Letting you sign back in. Sending you six digits if you forget your password. That is all three of them. It is never used to market anything to you, never added to a mailing list, never sold, never shared with anyone, never handed to an advertiser or a data broker, and never used to build a profile of you or your family. Uchi has no newsletter and no marketing of any kind, so there is nothing for it to be added to.
Two-step sign-in, if you want it. You may add a six-digit code from an authenticator app on top of your password. It is optional and starts off. There are no recovery codes: if you lose both the authenticator and the phone, nobody can let you back in — that is said on the screen before you turn it on, and it is the honest cost of a second step nobody can talk their way past.
If you forget your password. Uchi mails six digits to your address and you type them into the app; you never have to leave it. The same mail also carries a link to the password page on this site, which does the same job in a browser. What that page does with your address is narrow and worth stating: it passes it to the sign-in service so a code can be mailed, and it keeps a short random value in your own browser’s storage so the link can be proved to have come home to the browser that asked for it. It stores nothing about you anywhere else, sets no advertising or tracking cookies, and carries no ads, no analytics and no trackers. The new password you type there goes straight to the sign-in service; the page keeps no copy. To avoid telling a stranger which families use Uchi, it says the same thing whether or not an address has an account.
If your family already had a home before this version. Your existing sign-in still works, and the app walks you through adding an address and a password to the account you already have. Nothing is copied, moved, exported or re-created: it is the same household, the same profiles, the same history, with a way back added. You cannot skip it, because a household with no way back is the problem this change exists to fix — but nothing of yours is touched whatever you do on that screen.
Children are never asked for an address or a password, and never given one. A parent creates a child’s account from inside the parent’s own account. Uchi then shows the parent a one-time eight-digit setup code; on the child’s phone, that code plus the child’s own PIN opens their profile. After that, the child’s phone holds a plain device sign-in that carries no email address, no password and no personal detail of any kind. Uchi has no way to send a child a message, because it has no way to reach one.
A child’s PIN. A child may set a short PIN to protect their profile. The PIN itself is never stored anywhere in readable form, only as an unreadable scrambled value that cannot be turned back into the PIN. Repeated wrong guesses lock the profile out for a while, and a parent can set a new PIN at any time without the child having to set the phone up again.
The invite code. An adult creates a household, which mints a 6-digit invite code. Anyone old enough to have their own account joins by entering that code and then signing up with their own address and password.
Everything your family creates lives in a hosted database and file storage run for us by Supabase, our data processor, located in the European Union (Frankfurt, Germany). Every piece of content is locked to the household that created it, so one family can never see another family’s data.
Your account — the email address, and whether it has been confirmed — sits with the sign-in half of that same service, in the same place. Your password is not stored by Uchi in any readable form anywhere; see the sign-in section above.
What that includes:
And the family content itself:
We store this because it is the app — it is the shared family notebook. Nothing is stored beyond what your family puts in.
One thing on that list used to be simpler than it is now, so it is worth being exact: if a family turns the food log on, Uchi does hold health data — what someone ate, and the optional body details behind the estimate. It is stored the same way as everything else in the app, in your household’s own rows, and it is described in full two sections below.
Uchi asks for the camera only when you tap to use it, and it is used in three different ways:
The permission text you see in iOS names all three: “Take a quick photo to show a chore is done, scan a bill to read its amount, or scan a food barcode to look it up. Everything is read on your device, and photos stay in your family’s home.”
When you add a photo to a keepsake, memory, or milestone, you choose it through Apple’s system photo picker. Uchi receives only the photo you pick and never gets access to your library as a whole — which is why the app never shows a photo-library permission prompt. Photos you add are stored the same careful way as chore photos: hidden location metadata stripped on your device before the photo is uploaded, private storage scoped to your household, short-lived links only.
You can optionally record a short voice note on a pinboard scrap. The microphone is used only while you are actively recording, and the recording is stored in private storage locked to your household. If you never record a scrap, the app never asks for the microphone.
Uchi has a shelf for the family’s papers: the boiler manual, an appliance warranty, an insurance policy, a school letter, a cheatsheet. You add one by picking the file yourself in Apple’s system file picker, so Uchi receives only the file you choose and never goes looking through your device for anything else.
What is inside a document is entirely up to your family, and it may be sensitive — a tenancy agreement, a vaccination record, a payslip. So, to say it plainly: Uchi does not read, index, scan, or analyse the contents of your documents. Nothing about what a document says is sent anywhere except your family’s own private storage.
Uchi can keep a quiet note of what someone ate. Please read the standing notice near the top of this page first — it explains what the daily number is and is not. This section is about where the writing goes.
To offer a suggested daily amount, Uchi needs a few facts about a person. They are all optional, and this is the plain statement of what they are:
Say it plainly: this is health data, and it is health data about a named person, including children. So is the food log itself, and so are two things Uchi already held — dietary notes (an allergy, a food someone must avoid) and the growth entries a family may keep for a child. All of it is stored the same way as everything else in this app: in your household’s own rows, in the database in the European Union, locked to your household by the same rules, with no analytics, no third party and no profile built from it.
Two extra guards worth knowing about:
Uchi can link your food log to Apple Health. It is off until you turn it on, it is per person, and it only appears at all when your food log is on and you are old enough for the app to show a number in the first place.
When you look up a packaged food by name or scan its barcode, Uchi asks Open Food Facts — a free food database built by volunteers, with no account and no key.
Uchi’s widgets draw a small snapshot of the day. A widget gets a few hundred milliseconds and no account, so it cannot talk to the database at all — instead the app writes a small file the widget reads.
Uchi can show your own device calendar events faintly alongside the family plans, so you can see everything in one place. This is off by default and turns on only if you deliberately enable it and grant calendar access. When it is on:
You can optionally protect parent approvals with Face ID, Touch ID, or your device passcode. That check is performed by iOS itself: your biometric information never leaves your device and Uchi never sees it — the app only receives a yes/no answer about whether the unlock succeeded.
Reminders for bills, chores, plans, routines, maintenance, warranties and bin days, plus an optional daily digest, are all local notifications scheduled by iOS on your own device. There is no push server and no push notification service behind Uchi, so no notification token or message is ever sent anywhere. Quiet hours can mute them, and you can turn them off entirely in the app or in iOS Settings.
Apart from the household database and storage described above, Uchi contacts exactly four free public services, and only for the feature named. Each is a plain, anonymous request with no account, key, or identifier of yours attached, sent from a session that keeps no cookies:
| Service | Used for | Exactly what it receives |
|---|---|---|
| open-meteo.com | Weather and season nudges | The latitude and longitude your household typed in for weather — and only if someone typed one in, because it is blank by default. The coordinate is rounded to roughly one kilometre before it is sent, so it points at an area, not at your home. |
| themealdb.com | Optional recipe step ideas | The dish name you searched for. |
| frankfurter.app | Currency rates for bills | The currency codes to convert between (for example USD to EUR). No amounts and no bill details. |
| world.openfoodfacts.org | Looking up a packaged food | The words you typed, or the digits of the barcode you scanned, plus a two-letter language code. Nothing about who is asking, and only when somebody actively searches or scans. |
These services have their own privacy practices, which are outside Uchi’s control. Uchi sends them the minimum shown above and nothing that identifies you or your family. There are no other network calls in the app, apart from Uchi’s own database and its sign-in service.
About that sign-in service, plainly. Supabase is Uchi’s data processor in the European Union and does three jobs and no others: it hosts the database, it hosts the file storage, and it runs sign-in — which means it holds the email addresses, checks passwords, and is the thing that actually sends the six-digit mails when you make an account, change your address or reset a password. Those mails are the only email Uchi will ever cause you to receive.
And the password page on this website. The reset page is part of Uchi’s own site, not a third party. It exists so a forgotten password has a way back that works in a browser. It passes your address to the sign-in service so a code can be mailed, keeps a short random value in your own browser so the link can be proved to have returned to the browser that asked for it, and keeps nothing about you anywhere else. It has no ads, no analytics and no trackers.
At the foot of the About screen there is one optional supporter tip. It is purely a tip: it unlocks nothing, and the app is completely and permanently functional without it. If you choose to tip, Apple handles the payment through your App Store account — Uchi never sees, receives, or stores your card or payment details, and we learn nothing about you from it. A Restore Purchases option is available. (The tip is not switched on yet; until it is, that section simply shows nothing.)
Five things live on the phone rather than on a server, and each is worth spelling out.
The offline unlock value. So that a child can still unlock their own profile when the phone has no connection, Uchi keeps a small value on that device once their PIN has been confirmed online at least once. That value is a scrambled, one-way version of the PIN: it cannot be turned back into the PIN, and it is held in iOS’s protected keychain.
To be explicit about what it is not:
Offline copies of documents you have opened, in a protected app folder excluded from backups — described in the documents section above.
The widget snapshot, in the shared container — described in the widgets section above.
An unfinished sign-up. If you close Uchi in the gap between typing your email address and typing the six digits, the app keeps a small draft on that phone so you can pick up where you left off: the address, and the home details you had already filled in. It never holds your password, and it never holds a child’s PIN. It is not uploaded anywhere, it is deliberately kept out of the shared container the widgets can read, and it is deleted the moment your account is made or you start again.
Your settings, in the app’s own storage: the language, whether you want reminders, the Face ID gate, the calendar overlay switch, and the ids of the members who turned on the Apple Health link. Nothing here is uploaded.
Uchi is a family app that children use, and now that every grown-up signs in with an email address, the honest question is what happens to the children. The answer is the shortest one available: nothing is collected from a child at all.
A child never signs up, and is never asked for anything. No email address is ever collected from a child — not at sign-up, because there is no sign-up for a child, and not afterwards. Uchi has no way to send a child a message, because it holds no way to reach one. No password either: a child’s phone holds a plain device sign-in that carries no personal detail of any kind, plus the child’s own PIN, which is stored only as an unreadable scrambled value. And no phone number, no precise location, no advertising identifier, no third-party tracking, and no ads — none of those exist anywhere in Uchi for anybody, and children are no exception.
What Uchi holds about a child, and who typed it. Everything is entered by a parent inside the parent’s own account, or created by the child inside their own family’s home: a display name, a doodle avatar (a colour and a hairstyle), their role, their points, an optional protected PIN, a birthday and a height if a parent fills them in — the birthday is not decoration, it is what holds the “no calorie number under thirteen” floor in place — whatever household content they add themselves, their own journal entries, which adult created the account, and, if and only if a grown-up switches it on, a food log and any body details a grown-up fills in for the estimate. If your family keeps a growth chart for a child, or writes down an allergy or a food they must avoid, those readings and that note sit alongside the rest of it.
Children can share content only inside their own household — there is no public profile, no discovery, no messaging with strangers, and no way to reach anyone outside the family.
A document an adult has marked grown-ups only never reaches a child’s device at all. That rule is enforced on the server, so a child cannot see the document, open its file, or find it by any other route.
Around food specifically: a child cannot turn their own log on; a grown-up who turns it on can read it, and the child’s own screen says so; a child can never see another child’s log; under thirteen no daily calorie number is calculated or storable at all; and the Apple Health link is not offered under that age either, because Health would happily chart and total a young child’s calories and route straight around the rule.
Who counts as a child here is the family’s decision, not a guess Uchi makes. Uchi does not try to infer anyone’s age from a birthday it cannot verify. A parent decides whether to make an account for somebody or to send them the invite code so they sign up for themselves — and the safe answer, for anyone the parent thinks of as a child, is to make the account. The next section covers the age thresholds the law actually uses.
Adults manage children’s profiles, permissions and approvals, and can change or delete anything a child has, or remove them from the household entirely, at any time. If you believe a child has ended up with information stored about them that you want removed, email [email protected] and it will be removed.
This section is for the parent or guardian who makes a child’s account, and it is written to be read before you tap, not afterwards.
How consent is given. Adding a child happens in the Family tab, inside your own signed-in account, and only an adult can do it. Before anything is created, Uchi shows you a page — not a tick-box — that says who is asking (Uchi, made by one person, Enes Kırgıl, with no company behind it), that you are creating an account for your child and agreeing on their behalf, exactly what will be stored about them, that no email address and no password is collected from your child, where it lives (a private database in the European Union, Frankfurt), that it is never sold, shared or used for advertising, and that you can see it all, change it and remove it whenever you like. The button you press is not labelled “OK”. It says, in words: “I’m [name]’s parent or guardian, and I agree to this.”
What is recorded, and why that matters. When you tap it, Uchi stores a record: which documents you agreed to, which version of each, in which language you read them, when, that it was you who tapped, and that it was for your child. That last difference — the person agreeing is not the person it is about — is precisely what makes the record a record of parental consent rather than an ordinary acceptance. The next section lists every field.
Where this stands in law, honestly stated.
Your rights as the parent, and how to use them.
Teenagers. Somebody old enough to have their own account — the family decides who that is, with the age thresholds above in mind — joins with the invite code and signs up with their own address and password, exactly as an adult does. No parental consent record is created for them, because they are agreeing for themselves.
Uchi asks you to agree to this Privacy Policy, the Terms of Service and the License before your account is made, and it keeps a record of that. It is the one thing in this app that is stored purely to protect you, so here is exactly what it holds:
Who can see it, and who can change it. Everyone in your household can read their own household’s records, so a parent can see and show what they agreed to. Nobody can edit or delete one — the app has no way to change a consent record, only to add one. They go when your household or that member goes, which is the correct behaviour for a deletion request and the reason the record is not something extra you have to ask us to clear.
Children agree to nothing, ever. A child is never shown a legal document to accept and is never asked to tap one. Their parent accepts for them, and the record says so.
When the documents change. If the Terms or the License change, the adults in a household are asked to read and accept the new version before carrying on, and a parent’s acceptance covers the children they set up — the screen says so out loud rather than doing it quietly. A change to this Privacy Policy alone does not put a wall in front of the app: it is a notice, so it appears as one calm line on your own page, linking to the new text. Whatever changed is described in a sentence, rather than leaving you to re-read the whole thing to find out what moved.
Depending on where you live — for example under the EU GDPR, the UK GDPR, or Türkiye’s KVKK — you may have the right to access your personal data, correct it, export a copy, delete it, and to object to or restrict certain processing. Because Uchi holds so little about you, and because adults can edit or delete household content directly in the app, most of these are things you can do yourself in a few taps. A parent exercises all of them on a child’s behalf.
For anything else — including a full copy of your household’s data, deleting your account, or deleting the whole household — email [email protected]. Your family’s data is stored in the European Union, and the only company that processes it on our behalf is Supabase, which hosts the database and storage and runs sign-in.
No system is perfectly secure, but Uchi is built to collect little and expose less.
If the app starts doing something new with data, this page will be updated and the “last updated” date at the top will change. Meaningful changes will also be noted in the app and in its release notes on TestFlight or the App Store. Each document also carries a version stamp, so the record of what you agreed to always points at a specific text.
A change to this policy is a notice, not a new bargain: it appears as one calm line on your own page in the app, linking to the new text, with a sentence saying what moved. A change to the Terms or the License is different — those are the agreement itself, so the adults in a household are asked to read and accept the new version, and a parent’s acceptance covers the children they set up.
Uchi is made by Enes Kırgıl. Privacy questions, data requests, and deletion requests: [email protected].
This document is a plain-language description of how Uchi handles data. It is provided for transparency and is not a substitute for legal advice, and nothing in it is medical advice.