By: Naazi Morad In November 2011, my mother’s best friend, rather like a sister; won R42 million in the lottery. What followed wasn’t a fairy tale, it was a...
By Naazi Morad There are moments in therapeutic work that leave a permanent imprint, not because of what was said, but because of what was revealed. Addiction, in its...
By Naazi Morad, For decades, she stayed. Through the lies, the disappearances, the broken promises. Through the withdrawals and the relapses. Through the birthdays missed and the bruises hidden....
For decades, children who didn’t sit still, didn’t follow instructions, or didn’t fit the mold were given labels. Some were called “naughty.” Others were told they were “slow.” And...
By Naazi Morad There’s a quiet grief that settles in when a seasoned employee is asked to step aside, not because they’ve failed, but because they’ve aged. In boardrooms...
By: Naazi Morad There are wounds the body carries that the soul cannot name. A scratch, a pull, a ritual repeated until the skin breaks—not out of malice, but...
By Naazi Morad Wellness Within Therapy They say goodbye at the gate,but they carry you in every step forward.To leave home for work in another country is often framed...
For Raeesa, my daughter across the sea Once a year, the airport blooms, not with flowers, but with breath held tight.I count the steps between arrivals,watching glass doors like...
♥By Naazi Morad Wellness Within Therapy There’s a moment that lives in the hearts of many families, a moment of goodbye that isn’t just about distance, but about the...
By Naazi Morad There are hands that never make it into history books. Hands that pack lunchboxes with quiet precision, fold laundry with aching backs, and hold space for...