
The Content Calendar of Destiny
Segun Iwasanmi@iwasanmisegun212159
2 months ago
© Segun Iwasanmi
The Algorithm Of Heaven's Media — Chapter Six
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The lesson from the Eternal Stories tab settled quietly inside Christian, the way warm water settles inside an empty cup. Something in him shifted. He moved around campus with a calmer, more deliberate air, less interested in the quick gossip that usually floated around lecture halls and food queues. He no longer saw his life as a series of moments that disappeared after a day. It felt more like a long, permanent record where nothing truly vanished. Every choice became a small entry in a file he couldn’t edit later.
But understanding didn’t make the doing easier. He was trying, honestly trying to live with intention. To be consistent. To post “integrity” into his life, the way people updated their feeds. But his days still felt scattered. His prayers were sincere but hurried, squeezed between waking up late and trying not to miss the morning shuttle. His obedience was reactionary; he only avoided trouble when trouble stared him down. It wasn’t discipline. It was survival.
He reminded me of a business owner dreaming of viral success but with no plan, no strategy, no calendar, just hope.
In the dream, I watched him sit at his uneven wooden desk, laptop open to a blank Excel sheet meant for assignment deadlines. But instead of notes, he was staring at empty boxes, wondering how anyone was expected to schedule “Good Deeds” or “Obedience,” like one would schedule classes.
Monday: 6 AM — Prayer (30 mins).
12 PM — Don’t lie about assignment deadline.
5 PM — Share gospel link on WhatsApp.
It looked funny. Forced. Like trying to arrange the wind into neat lines. Grace didn’t behave like that. And still, he didn’t know another way to gain the consistency he desperately needed.
The dream shifted then, like someone gently turning a page. Christian found himself in a part of campus he rarely visited— Fafunwa library, a place students only remembered when they needed Wi-Fi during exam season. The building looked tired, as if it had lived several lives and carried all their memories in its cracked walls.
He wandered around with his phone raised, searching for a signal, when he noticed a tiny office tucked far at the back, its door half hidden behind a tall metal shelf. The sign on the door, written in fading black letters, read:
Dr. Kelechi Okafor — Media Strategy and Content Curation.
Christian paused. He didn’t know why, but something in him leaned toward the door.
To be continued... 🔥
© 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.
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