THE COSMIC LOTTERY

FROM KAIMA’S DIARY

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In the quiet city of Seaboard, nestled among ancient oaks and mist-laden hills, there lived a young woman named Hope. She had always been curious about life’s purpose—the reason they all existed on this spinning blue marble called Earth.

One moonlit night, as the Harvest Moon bathed the landscape in silver, Hope sat by the riverbank. The water whispered secrets, and the stars above seemed to beckon her toward eternity. She wondered if there was more to existence than mere chance.

And then, a figure appeared—a Sage with eyes like galaxies. His cloak shimmered with stardust, and his voice carried the weight of cosmic wisdom. “Hope,” he said, “you seek answers.”
Hope nodded. “Why are we here? What’s the purpose of life?”

The Sage smiled. “Imagine existence as a cosmic lottery. Each of us—a winning ticket. Against impossible odds, we’re here. From the Big Bang to your great-grandparents’ chance encounter, the threads of fate wove us into being.”
“But why?” Hope asked. “What’s our purpose?”

The Sage gestured to the river. “See how it flows? Life, too, is a current. We exist to continue existing—to evolve, adapt, and grow. Every living organism shares this fundamental truth. We learn, we change, and in doing so, we find health, happiness, and longevity.”
Hope pondered. “But what about meaning?”

“Meaning,” the Sage said, “is the lantern that guides us through existence. It’s not a single answer but a constellation of possibilities. Meaningful work, love, play—they become our mission. To fully realize a life worth living, we must live intentionally.”
Hope gazed at the stars. “And if we’re the winners of this cosmic lottery?”

“We spend our winnings wisely,” the Sage replied. “We seek connections—with others, with nature, with the mysteries beyond. We chase wonder, create art, and leave footprints in the sands of time.”

As dawn approached, Hope stood. “I’ll find my purpose,” she vowed. “Not in grand conquests like Conan, but in the quiet moments—the laughter, the shared sunsets, the kindness.”
The Sage nodded. “Remember, Hope, you’re stardust and story. Your existence matters.”

And so, Hope walked back to Eldermoor, carrying the universe within her. She would live intentionally, chase meaning, and honour the cosmic lottery that made her possible.

For in the grand tapestry of existence, every thread mattered—a constellation of purpose stitched across eternity.

✍️ Chikaima Zita Unachukwu