Stories That Don't Expire — Chapter Five (Final Part)

Segun Iwasanmi
@iwasanmisegun212159
3 months ago

© Segun Iwasanmi
The Algorithm Of Heaven's Media
💊💊💊
Little Amaka, a junior student, sat alone under the old mango tree behind the classroom block, her eyes swollen and wet, her cheeks streaked with dust. In her shaky hands was the broken ceramic plate used in the school canteen. She wasn’t crying because the plate had cracked. She was crying because Brother Felix, the disciplinary prefect whose face always looked as if life had forced him to swallow something sour, had promised to “show her pepper.” Everyone knew Amaka’s mother sold onions and dry fish by the roadside. School fees alone were already a miracle. Buying another plate was a mountain.

In the story Christian was shown, he watched a younger version of himself walk towards her. There was no sound, only actions. No preaching, no long explanation, no pity. He simply looked at her, then at the wrinkled hundred-naira note in his palm. He paused for a short moment, that thin line where hunger argues with compassion, and then he stretched the money toward her.

Amaka stared at him as if it was forbidden. She shook her head quickly. But Christian just pointed in the direction of the school gate, silently telling her to run to Mama Peace’s shop and buy a cheap plastic plate before Brother Felix returned. Then he walked away, with a stomach crying louder than the school bell, but a heart suddenly calm. He went home that day hungry, but light.

When the scene ended, Christian stood there quietly, surprised that he had even forgotten the moment. It wasn’t a heroic deed anyone clapped for. Nobody posted it, nobody praised it, nobody even knew, except Amaka… and maybe heaven.

Then a quiet message appeared under the story:

“The things done out of love when no one is watching are the ones that matter most. They never stop speaking.”

Christian finally understood why his prayers had felt like they were hitting a closed door. His recent actions may have stained his present, but his past kindness was still alive. Heaven had not deleted it.

He realised that unlike WhatsApp stories that disappear after twenty-four hours, the stories Heaven keeps do not vanish. They sit down somewhere, breathing, testifying, shaping a person’s true record, not the one humans admire, but the one eternity reads.

He dropped the phone slowly and sat back, a quiet awe replacing his earlier frustration. He was not just living for the moment. He was building an eternal timeline. The real work was to keep living a life worth saving, not a life worth posting.

He wasn’t out of his waiting season yet, but his heart had found peace. His foundation was still speaking.

Watch out for the next episode 🔥

© Segun Iwasanmi | ™The Man With The Story.
Book Writer | Screen and Scriptwriter | Creative Fiction writer | Book Editor.
I help people turn rough ideas into bold stories that work

---

@egyptbrooks8131 @kyrasocha7264 @anyarodriguez5415 @elielson6182 @darielgutierrez9933 @kyeramos8824 @isaiasbumpus8991 @otiscollins2500 @chelseagonzales8382 @isabellaevans6307 @dawsondonohoe921 @roycecorry4386 @aylinrobinson3636 @hanablas8285 @kannonsanchez9752 @kaiserhernandez9937 @lorettaedelstein2838 @brendanscholten9779 @emmelineflesher949 @tinsleyblas5012 @monroemurguia4817 @fionaparker4788 @danielleparker3416 @alenaross3000 @paisleejepson5545 @guadalupecovell7459 @lukasscott8895 @emirhoward1584 @lilithmoore6100 @braelynnwalker4689 @aureliaenlow5792 @maclucy1107 @gagehaga8979 @cedricbumpus8905 @iwasanmisegun212159