Let’s talk about Regina, or as you’ll come to know her, Nkechi.
She’s the heart of my debut novella, STRINGS, and the reason this story wouldn’t leave me alone for nine long years.

Yes, NINE.

This book started as scribbles in a notebook and on Whatsapp, back when I thought I was just writing fiction for the fun of it. Turns out, I was cracking open some truth, slowly, painfully, and often messily. I’d write chapters, abandon them, return months later and scrap everything. Why? Because the characters didn’t feel real yet. Regina didn’t feel true yet.
And I couldn’t move forward until she did.

In the time it’s taken to shape this story, I’ve studied, worked in film, lost people I loved, and grown into someone who finally had the courage to finish what I started.
And when I finally sat back down, properly, in late 2024, I realized Regina had grown with me. She isn’t just a character anymore.
She’s someone I kn0w.

So… Who is Regina?

(The girl that survived)

Regina is the woman Nigeria teaches you to become if you want to survive.

She’s polished. Strategic. Carefully constructed for the public eye.
She is image before intimacy. Strength before softness.
She didn’t choose to become this woman. She had to.
She is calculated, controlled, camera-ready.

She walks like a headline.
She speaks like a contract.
She is success, wrapped in silence.

But that’s not the whole story.

Who Is Nkechi?

(The girl that deserved better)

Nkechi is the neglected child.

The one with dusty feet and cracked glass dreams.
She’s the half-daughter. The family secret.
The girl watching celebrations from the corners. 

But she’s also the root.
She’s the softness Regina buried beneath sequins and survival.
She’s the reason Regina fights so hard, even when no one is watching.
And now? She’s clawing her way back to the surface.

The Truth?

Regina wasn’t born. She was built, to protect Nkechi. To be her armor. Her weapon. Her voice.

But somewhere along the line, the mask became the face.
And now Nkechi is whispering beneath the surface:
“You can’t heal what you refuse to confront.”

What’s Coming for Regina?

Let’s just say… the menu is messy.

She’ll have to choose: Will I keep performing and stay praised? Or will I start confronting and be punished?

She’ll be forced to reckon with her brother’s situation, her father’s legacy, and her own silence. She’ll stop surviving for everyone else’s comfort and start living for her own self. As she should. This isn’t a glow-up. This is a reclamation.
She’s not growing up, she’s growing in.

What You Will Feel Reading my Novella STRINGS

You’ll see yourself.
In her defiance. In her doubts. In her refusal to stay small.

This is for women who were told to “adjust”. Girls who were taught to shrink. Anyone who’s ever been “included” but never truly seen.

Why STRINGS Matters

Why Regina’s Story Matters to the Average Nigerian Girl

Because Nigeria doesn’t tell this story often enough.

The story about the girl told to smile more, tone it down, be grateful. Obey. Be silent. Be easy to love. Don’t complain. The child who was thought to perform for love, because she was never really accepted as she is, though she was part of the family.

Regina’s story says: You can unlearn that. You can burn the script. You can choose you, even if it makes people uncomfortable. Regina/Nkechi is not your typical heroine. She’s a reckoning in heels.

Read New Chapters of STRINGS here:
https://medium.com/@ezinneakam/welcome-to-my-story-strings-eee094ffa7fb