Lafftamazz, Owerri (2025)

09/07/2025

TITLE : The Fixer - The Average Woman's Dream

EPISODE 39: Growth Feels Awkward First

Zina bought a journal.

She didn’t even like journals.

But she saw one on Instagram—a beige leather one with gold trim and affirmations on the spine.

"You deserve peace."

It felt like a sign.

So she bought it.

And now, two days later, it sat unopened on her desk like it was judging her.

---

She picked it up. Grabbed a pen.

Sat cross-legged on the bed.

Wrote the date.

Then stared.

Nothing came out.

---

She scrolled on TikTok instead.

Sighed.

Put the phone down.

Started writing.

“Today, I…”

Tore the page.

Too fake.

Tried again:

“I feel like I’m faking my own healing.”

Better.

---

She kept writing.

Paragraph after paragraph of thoughts she’d never said aloud.

It wasn’t pretty.

It wasn’t poetic.

But it was real.

Until she got to the part where she typed Tochukwu’s name.

And she froze.

---

She wanted to message him.

Not to get him back.

Just to say, “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

But when she opened his chat… her fingers started sweating.

She typed:

“Hey.”

Then deleted it.

Typed:

“Hope you’re good.”

Then deleted that too.

She dropped the phone, threw her pillow over her face, and screamed into it.

---

Growth, it turns out, wasn’t pretty.

It wasn’t soft music and candlelight.

It was weird. Cringey. Full of half-typed apologies and unopened notebooks.

But it was something.

It was new.

And new always feels awkward before it feels right.

---

(You don’t have to look graceful while growing. You just have to try again.)

---

💬 Comment: “Healing is awkward, but I’m doing it anyway.”

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08/07/2025

TITLE : The Fixer - The Average Woman's Dream

EPISODE 38: The Mirror claps back

Zina didn’t eat all day.

She wasn’t fasting. She wasn’t cleansing. She just… didn’t feel worthy of food.

She sat on the floor of her bathroom, legs crossed, back against cold tiles.

The mirror above the sink caught her reflection.

She didn’t look broken.

But she didn’t look like herself either.

---

“I did this,” she whispered.

No one was around.

She wasn’t rehearsing pain for performance.

Just truth.

“I keep chasing men who make me feel seen in the moment… but disappear the second I stop performing.”

“I keep pushing away the ones who stay—because they see the parts of me I haven’t forgiven.”

She wiped her eyes. No tears yet. Just heat.

“I don’t want to be the girl who only feels alive when she’s fixing someone.”

“I want to be loved without earning it like a salary.”

“I want to stop picking chaos just because I’ve never known calm long enough to trust it.”

---

She stood up slowly.

Walked to the mirror.

Stared.

“Zina… you have to stop blaming the men. They’re mirrors too. You keep choosing the ones who match how you feel about yourself.”

That one cracked something.

She sat down again.

This time, with purpose.

---

“Okay,” she said softly.

“Okay. We’re not healed. But we’re awake now.”

And for the first time in weeks, the silence in the room didn’t scare her.

It comforted her.

---

(Sometimes healing starts not with a new relationship—but with an old habit finally breaking its hold.)

---

💬 Drop a comment: “I’ve had this talk with myself before.”

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08/07/2025

kayenda Thank you, we see you ☺️🙏🏼🥰💯

08/07/2025

TITLE : The Fixer - The Average Woman's Dream

EPISODE 37: When Peace Stops Knocking

Zina woke up the next morning and did what she always did—checked her phone.

No messages.

She refreshed WhatsApp.

Still nothing.

Tochukwu hadn’t texted.

And suddenly, silence wasn’t soothing.

It was loud. And unfamiliar. And rude.

---

She waited an hour.

Then two.

Then four.

Still nothing.

No “Good morning, Zee.”

No gentle reminders that she didn’t have to shrink.

No emoji. No check-in.

---

By 6PM, her chest was tight.

She opened the chat.

Typed: “You good?”

Waited.

Blue ticks.

No reply.

---

Zina stood in the middle of her kitchen, phone in hand, heart in throat.

This wasn’t like before.

This wasn’t Fola ignoring her to manipulate.

This wasn’t Emeka breadcrumbing.

This was Tochukwu.

The soft one.

The one who didn’t play games.

The one who always responded.

Until now.

---

Her stomach flipped.

Was this the consequence?

Was this what happened when you poked peace too many times just to see if it would still stay?

Was this what it meant to run out of chances with a good man?

---

She wanted to call.

But didn’t.

She wanted to apologize.

But didn’t know where to start.

She wanted to pretend she was fine.

But for once, she wasn’t.

---

Zina sat down. Let her phone fall beside her.

Stared at the wall.

And whispered:

“Did I just lose the one person who actually saw me?”

---

(Sometimes the worst silence isn’t when they leave. It’s when they stay quiet. Because you know it’s not anger—it’s clarity.)

---

💬 Comment “I’ve pushed peace away before.”

Let’s talk: Have you ever realized too late that the safe one wasn’t boring—he was healthy?

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07/07/2025

Thank you, we see you Dørïs Kízzy. 🤗🥰🙏🏼💯

07/07/2025

TITLE : The Fixer - The Average Woman's Dream

EPISODE 36: The Problem with Peace

Zina didn’t reply Tochukwu’s message that night.

She saw it. She smiled. She cried.

And then she ignored it.

Because that’s what she did with good things.

---

The next day, she woke up restless.

Checked his text again:

“You don’t have to shrink. I see you.”

Too much. Too fast. Too… safe.

Her brain twisted it:

> "What if he’s love-bombing?" "What if he’s lying?" "What if he’s too perfect—and that’s the red flag?"

Her trauma was doing the talking.

And she was listening.

---

She finally replied: “Lol you sound like a therapist 😅”

Tochukwu replied a few minutes later: “Nah, just a man who’s tired of pretending not to care.”

That should have made her melt.

Instead, she bristled.

> Why is he so available? Doesn’t he have somewhere else to be? Isn’t mystery more attractive?

Zina didn’t want to admit it, but chaos had a flavor.

It tasted like excitement. Like challenge. Like home.

---

So she tested him.

She ignored his next two messages.

Then replied with: “Hey, sorry. Been busy.”

Tochukwu didn’t seem fazed.

He just said: “No pressure. I’m here when you’re ready.”

Zina stared at her phone, annoyed.

Annoyed that he wasn’t mad.

Annoyed that he didn’t chase.

Annoyed that she didn’t feel the familiar sting of drama.

---

So she called Emeka.

Blocked his number two days ago.

Unblocked it.

Stared at it.

Didn’t dial.

But the fact that she even thought about it?

Said everything.

---

(Sometimes peace doesn’t feel good at first—because we only ever trained ourselves to respond to pain.)

---

💬 Be honest: Have you ever tested someone who was good to you… just to see if they’d stay?

Comment “I’m learning to trust calm.”

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07/07/2025

TITLE : The Fixer - The Average Woman's Dream

EPISODE 35: Maybe This Will Fix It

Zina didn’t cry that night.

She just lay in bed with a dull ache behind her eyes—the kind that wasn’t pain, just pressure. From everything. From nowhere.

Kamsi had gone home.

The truth was still echoing in the room.

She opened Instagram. Mindless scroll.

Then a DM popped up.

Tochukwu.

A name from another life.

Her uni ex.

Not dramatic. Not toxic. Just… forgettable. The kind of boy you leave behind because he made too much sense too soon.

Tochukwu: “Random, but I saw your post. You okay?”

Zina stared at the screen.

A normal person would ignore.

A healed person would be polite and move on.

But Zina wasn’t either of those.

---

Zina: “Just tired. You?”

Tochukwu: “I’m good. You wanna talk? I’m in town for the week.”

She hesitated.

Why not?

Why not meet up with the man she should’ve given a chance to when she was younger and less broken?

Maybe this was full circle.

Maybe this was God.

Maybe this would fix it.

---

Saturday. They met up.

He was older now. Still gentle. Still slow when he spoke, like he didn’t want to scare the words.

They laughed. Talked. Reminisced.

He said, “I always thought you were special, Zee. You just didn’t seem to see it.”

Zina smiled. Half grateful. Half guilty.

She still didn’t know how to accept softness without bracing for the slap.

---

After lunch, he leaned in.

“I’m not assuming anything,” he said. “But I’d like to see you again. If you want.”

Zina’s heart skipped—but not from excitement.

From fear.

Because here it was. Peace. Calm. Predictability.

And it felt… foreign.

---

She told him she’d think about it.

She went home.

And stared at her phone.

No messages from Fola. None from Emeka.

But Tochukwu? Tochukwu sent her a text:

“You don’t have to shrink. I see you.”

Zina turned off her phone.

And cried.

Because she didn’t know how to be seen without performing.

And Tochukwu wasn’t giving her anything to fix.

---

(Sometimes healing isn’t hard because of what we lost—it’s hard because we don’t know what to do with what’s healthy.)

---

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Comment “I’m learning to stay.”

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07/07/2025

I got over 500 reactions on my posts last week! Thanks everyone for your support! 🎉

06/07/2025

TITLE : The Fixer - The Average Woman's Dream

EPISODE 34: The Truth Doesn’t Yell

Zina didn’t tell anyone about the night with Emeka.

Not because it was a secret.

But because it wasn’t special enough to be one.

She just woke up the next day with a dull headache, a dry throat, and a deeper silence than before.

Her phone buzzed.

Kamsi: “You home?”

Zina: “Yeah.”

Kamsi: “I’m coming over.”

---

When Kamsi walked in, she didn’t hug her.

She just sat.

Looked at Zina like she had memorized her patterns too many times.

Zina tried to keep it casual.

“Want tea?”

Kamsi shook her head.

“No. I want to ask why you keep hurting yourself on purpose.”

Zina blinked.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

---

Zina sighed and sat beside her.

“I’m not. I’m just… confused. Trying to feel okay.”

“Zee. Confusion is when you don’t know what’s right. You know what’s right. You just keep choosing against it.”

That one cut.

Zina folded her arms.

“I don’t need a lecture.”

“You don’t need pain either. But you keep inviting it back.”

---

Silence again.

The kind that sits between friends when one is scared to lose the other.

Kamsi softened.

“I’m not judging you. I just… I see what you’re doing. You keep chasing men who don’t see you, and running from the version of yourself who actually would.”

Zina swallowed.

Her voice small.

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“That I’m too much. Or not enough. I don’t know. That if I stop chasing people, nobody will come.”

---

Kamsi leaned forward.

“Zina, love that chases isn’t real. It’s negotiation. It’s performance. And you’re exhausted because you’ve been performing love instead of receiving it.”

Zina’s lip trembled.

She wiped a tear before it got bold.

---

“I know you’re trying,” Kamsi said. “But trying in the wrong direction won’t take you to peace.”

Zina nodded.

Then broke.

And Kamsi held her, just like before.

Except this time, Zina didn’t pretend she was fine.

She let herself be seen.

---

(Sometimes the mirror we need isn’t the one on our wall—it’s the one who sits beside us and tells us the truth without raising their voice.)

---

💬 Drop a comment: “I’ve been Kamsi. I’ve been Zina.”

Tag a friend who mirrors you gently.

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06/07/2025

TITLE : The Fixer - The Average Woman's Dream

EPISODE 33: I Just Wanted to Feel Something

Zina woke up with a heavy chest and dry eyes.

The crying had done its shift. Now the numbness clocked in.

She checked her phone. 5 unread messages. None from Fola.

But that wasn’t why she was upset.

She was upset because… she still wanted one from him.

---

It’s a dangerous thing, desire.

It makes you rewrite pain as potential.

Makes you forget the silence. The excuses. The lies.

Zina got out of bed and walked to the mirror.

Stared at herself. Rubbed moisturizer into skin that didn’t feel like hers.

Then she opened her wardrobe, pulled out a red dress she hadn’t worn since 2022—the one that made her look like she belonged somewhere expensive.

---

She took a picture.

Posted it.

Captioned it:

“Healing. Slowly.”

Ten minutes later, Fola viewed the story.

Nothing else.

No message.

No emoji.

Just a view.

---

Zina dropped her phone.

She wasn’t trying to win him back. Not really.

She just wanted to feel something.

Wanted to remind herself she was still wanted.

Wanted to hear from someone—even if it wasn’t someone who showed up.

---

So when Emeka replied to her story with a fire emoji and said:

“Looking too fine, Z. Let’s grab drinks tonight?”

She didn’t overthink it.

Didn’t ask questions.

Didn’t remember how emotionally unavailable Emeka always was.

She just replied:

“Send location.”

---

That night, she laughed a little too loudly.

Drank one glass too many.

Pretended she didn’t notice Emeka staring at other women.

Pretended she didn’t hear his passive-aggressive joke about her business.

Pretended she was okay.

---

And when she got home, buzzed and blurry, she stared at the ceiling again.

Same fan. Same silence.

But this time, guilt joined the party.

---

(Sometimes the dumbest thing we do isn’t texting him back… it’s hoping the next distraction will be different.)

---

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05/07/2025

EPISODE 32: Where Did I Learn This?

Zina didn’t go out that weekend.

She stayed home.

Didn’t open her chats. Didn’t reply Kamsi. Didn’t watch Netflix. Didn’t scroll.

She just lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling fan rotating with a tired rhythm, like it, too, had seen too much.

The walls were too quiet. But inside her head? A storm.

---

That line wouldn’t leave her.

“He’s not perfect… but neither am I.”

Why did she say that? Why does she always say that?

She wasn’t trying to be poetic. She was trying to excuse what didn’t deserve another excuse.

But she’d gotten so good at that.

Turning hurt into puzzles.

Turning confusion into reasons.

Turning red flags into misunderstandings.

---

Her phone buzzed once. Fola.

She didn’t touch it. Just looked at the ceiling again.

Then she closed her eyes.

And her mind went back…

---

To the day her dad didn’t come home on time, and nobody asked why.

To the night her mother whispered prayers into a pillow instead of confronting the silence in her marriage.

To the way her aunties used to say, “Men are like that. Just learn to manage.”

Zina had been managing since 12.

Managing expectations.

Managing disappointments.

Managing herself into versions of herself that would be easier to love.

---

She remembered the first time she caught her dad lying. He said he had a late meeting, but his shirt smelled like a different woman’s perfume.

Zina was 14.

She didn’t say anything.

But that night, she learned two things:

1. People lie if they think you won’t fight.

2. Sometimes silence keeps the family from falling apart.

She carried those lessons quietly—like bricks in her chest.

---

So when Fola lied, when he ghosted, when he dismissed—Zina didn’t scream.

She managed.

She shrank.

She bent over backwards until her spine forgot how to stand.

And she always whispered the same thing:

"He’s not perfect. But neither am I."

---

That line was a prison.

A way to make herself feel noble for staying small.

A way to give chaos a second chance.

Again.

And again.

---

Zina turned on her side, facing the wall. She thought about her little cousin.

Bright-eyed. Eight years old. Always asking questions.

What was she going to tell her someday?

That love means accepting the bare minimum?

That softness means silence?

That the more you hurt, the more you must stay?

No.

No, that wasn’t the legacy she wanted to pass down.

But to change that legacy, she had to unlearn it first.

And unlearning hurt like hell.

---

It felt like digging up roots with your bare hands.

Like cutting out familiar wounds before they got infected again.

Like deleting numbers you still hoped would text.

---

Her pillow was wet. She hadn’t even noticed she was crying.

No sobs. Just silent tears.

The heavy kind. The kind that felt like release.

---

*(Sometimes the real heartbreak isn’t about him leaving.

It’s about realizing you’ve been lying to yourself to make staying make sense.)*

---

💬 Drop a comment: “I’m unlearning.”

Let’s talk: What belief did you inherit that you now know is a lie?

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04/07/2025

TITLE : The Fixer - The Average Woman's Dream

EPISODE 31: But He Said He’d Try

Zina told Kamsi the truth… with filters.

“He didn’t show up, but he apologized,” she said, stirring her iced coffee like it was tea that needed meaning.

Kamsi gave her that look. The one best friends use when they don’t want to scream.

Zina kept going.

“He said he got caught up in something urgent. His cousin’s birthday came up last minute.”

Kamsi blinked.

“Did he forget your plan?”

Zina shrugged. “He said he wanted to make it up to me. He’s not perfect, Kamsi. But neither am I.”

There it was. The ancient sentence.

“But neither am I.”

The phrase women whisper when they’re trying to measure their worth against inconsistency.

“Zina, be honest,” Kamsi said gently. “Do you really believe this will end differently than it did the first time?”

Zina looked away.

Focused on the condensation on her cup.

“I just don’t want to start over again. I’m tired of always starting over.”

Kamsi nodded slowly.

“That’s how some people stay stuck. Not because they’re in love. But because they’re tired.”

Zina didn’t reply.

But in her chest, something shifted.

Just a little.

Just enough.

(Sometimes we don’t believe the lies he tells. We believe the lies we tell ourselves to justify staying.)

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Lafftamazz

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