I still wear the hoodie.Not because I miss him.Because I’ve convinced myself it’s part of my personality now.Comfort core. Sad girl certified. Trauma in cotton blend. He said I could…
The truth?I would’ve healed.I tried. I swear.I did the gratitude journal.I even wrote their name and burnt it with camphor, just like that one babe on TikTok said.But every time…
It was my cousin’s “small” graduation party. Which, in Nigerian terms, means 47 people crammed into a BQ compound with one bluetooth speaker, three chairs, and zero dignity. I didn’t…
Nigerian parents can scream at demons like they’re quarrelling with NEPA “HOLY GHOST FAYAAAAAH! BACK TO SENDER! RETURN TO SENDER! DHL TO SENDER!” —then suddenly whisper “spiritual attack” like demons…
We like to act modern. Soft life. Therapy. Healing crystals. French tips and emotional boundaries. But step too far outside your city or comfort zone, and tradition will slap the…
Today, I wore my yellow skirt, tribal marks, and a vengeance prayer. It’s a killer combo. The kind of look that says: “The blood still speaks, and so does my…
The first time Mr. Okafor barked like a dog in church, the congregation was stunned into silence. It wasn’t just the sound, it was the detail. He barked like a…
It started with heartbreak and a Facebook ad: “Heal your heart with aura in 7 days.” Aura? Heart? I scoffed and swiped. Then I swiped back. It had been three…
By Minah – For Crackko’s Chaos Compendium 1: The Landlord, The Keke, and The Vanishing Mic It’s a hot Tuesday. You’re indoors. Zobo in hand. One leg on the bed…
It’s been two months since The Incident. My friends have called it everything from The Fall to The Day Gravity Gave Up on Her. But to me? It was simply…