Three of us, four benches, eight boxes
A repair counter that started on a table in a front room and kept the filing system it invented there.
The number came before the shop
For four years this was a table in Nazim's front room, and it worked until the day there were nine phones on it and two of them looked the same.
So he wrote numbers on masking tape and stuck them to the backs, and then wrote the same numbers in a notebook with a name and a telephone number beside each. That notebook is the reason this shop exists in the shape it does. Nothing has gone missing since, and the questions people rang up to ask changed from where is my phone to what did you find.
When the counter opened the notebook became a page. Every booking gets a number in the form FPR 2026 0184, every number gets a box on the shelf, and every customer gets a link of their own that says pending, confirmed or completed. It is the same idea with better handwriting.
What we deliberately did not build is a progress feed. Three honest words on a page that is always right beat a promise of updates that has only to fail once.
What we hold to
Nothing quoted unopened
A price before the back is off is a promise nobody can keep.
The old part on the counter
Every battery, panel and port we take out goes back to you with the receipt.
We say no to three things
No unlocking, no phone that is not yours, no water damage.
The three of us
Ibrahim Nazim
Repaired phones on a table in his own front room for four years before this shop existed. Still does most of the screens and still shows peo...
Aishath Reesha
Writes every job number, fills every box, and is the reason nothing has gone missing since the shelf went in. Answers the telephone the way...
Mohamed Sinan
Does the soldered work: ports, speakers and the jobs that take ninety minutes. Keeps a straight edge on the bench and checks every frame wit...
Book a bench
An hour for a screen, forty minutes for a battery, thirty to find out what is actually wrong.