DEAD MEN DON'T READ EMAILS

Let me tell you a story that will shake you to your core. A story about assumptions, family, and the shocking truth that sometimes hides behind unanswered messages.

Have you ever wondered why that wealthy relative never responds to your desperate pleas for help? Sit tight, because this story might change how you think forever.

Meet Ifeanyi, a bright young man who just secured admission into university. Like many families, his had that one successful relative everyone spoke about in whispers of admiration - Uncle Moses, the one who "made it big" in Europe. You know that uncle - the one whose name gets mentioned at every family gathering?

When school fees became a mountain too high to climb, Ifeanyi did what seemed logical. He reached out to Uncle Moses.

First, it was a carefully crafted letter:

"Dear Uncle Moses, I hope this letter meets you in good health. I'm Ifeanyi, your nephew. I just started school, and I'm struggling to pay my fees. It would mean the world to me if you could assist me with 50,000 Naira. I promise to make you proud."

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. Nothing.

But Ifeanyi wasn't going to give up. No. This was the digital age! Letters were too old-fashioned. So he switched to emails.

"Uncle Moses, I don't know if you received my last letter, but I'm reaching out again. I need 50,000 Naira for my school fees. I'd be so grateful for your help."

Still nothing.

Two weeks later:

"Hello Uncle Moses, I'm yet to hear from you regarding the money I requested. Please, assist me before the next semester begins. God bless you."

The silence was becoming unbearable.

By the fourth semester, something snapped inside Ifeanyi. His fingers flew across the keyboard, typing words dipped in frustration and anger:

"Uncle Moses, why are you ignoring me? Don't forget how my father helped you when you were struggling before you went abroad. Don't let me believe people change when they have money. Help if you want to help and stop acting like you don't know me!"

Semester after semester, the cycle continued. Hope. Disappointment. Anger. Repeat.

Then one day, buried in old papers, Ifeanyi found what seemed like a golden ticket - Uncle Moses' phone number. His heart racing, he sent a text:

"Uncle Moses, this isn't right. Small school fees I asked for, and you ignored all my emails. This isn't how life should be."

The message showed two blue ticks. Delivered.

But the response that came shattered his assumptions:

"I don't know who owns this number or who you are trying to reach. Please stop texting me."

Years passed. Through pure determination and hustle, Ifeanyi graduated. Life smiled on him - his first job came with a sleek company car. That's when he made a decision that would change everything.

He was going to show Uncle Moses that God's blessings weren't exclusive. He drove to Uncle Moses' family compound, his new car gleaming in the sunlight, pride sitting comfortably in his chest.

But what he heard next felt like a bucket of ice-cold water:

"Uncle Moses? Oh, he died five years ago in Europe," an elderly relative said casually, as if discussing the weather. "His body was never found, so they buried an empty coffin last Christmas."

Five years ago.

FIVE YEARS AGO.

Let that sink in.

Every angry email...

Every bitter thought...

Every curse muttered under breath...

Every resentful moment...

Was directed at someone who had already crossed to the other side.

The realization hit Ifeanyi like a ton of bricks. He had spent years building a fortress of resentment against a man who couldn't even defend himself.

But here's the most chilling part:

How had the entire family carried on believing Uncle Moses was alive? How many others had sent similar emails? How many people were still waiting for responses that would never come?

Sometimes, the wealthy relative we accuse of pride might be fighting battles we know nothing about. Sometimes, they might not even be in this world anymore.

Before you send that angry message...

Before you build that wall of resentment...

Before you judge that silence...

Remember Ifeanyi's story.

Because sometimes, the truth behind unanswered messages is more heartbreaking than we could ever imagine.

Think about it. Let it marinate in your mind.

I love you!