Likes Aren’t Everything





Amaka was a social media queen. Her Instagram feed was flawless—pictures of her in cute outfits, at trendy restaurants, and on vacations that made everyone jealous. She had over 20,000 followers, and her phone was always buzzing with notifications. To her, likes, comments, and followers were everything. The more she got, the better she felt.





One day, Amaka decided to post a picture of herself at a fancy café in Lagos. She spent an hour perfecting it—adjusting the lighting, tweaking the angles, and picking the right filter. She even added a caption she thought was deep: _“Living my best life Blessed.”_ She hit “post” and sat back, waiting for the likes to roll in.




But something weird happened. Five minutes went by, and nothing. Ten minutes—still no likes. Amaka refreshed her page, but it was stuck at zero. She panicked. “What’s going on?” she muttered, checking her Wi-Fi. It was working fine. She checked Instagram’s servers—no issues there either.


An hour later, her picture still had zero likes. ZERO. Amaka felt like the ground was crumbling beneath her. She started thinking, _What if people don’t like me anymore? What if I’m not interested? 


What if… Am irrelevant?


She couldn’t focus on anything the rest of the day. Her friends invited her out, but she declined. Instead, she stayed home, scrolling through Instagram, comparing herself to others. Everyone else’s posts were blowing up with likes and comments. The more she scrolled, the worse she felt.


The next morning, Amaka walked into school feeling invisible. She sat at her desk, staring at her phone, when her best friend, Tola, plopped down next to her. “You okay? You’ve been acting weird,” Tola asked.


Amaka sighed. “I posted a picture yesterday, and it got… zero likes.”


Tola blinked. “Is that why you’ve been sulking? Girl, come on.”


“You don’t get it,” Amaka snapped. “Likes are important! They show people care about you. If no one’s liking my stuff, what does that say about me?”


Tola stared at her for a moment, then grabbed her phone. “Okay, let me show you something.” She opened her gallery and pulled up a picture of the two of them from last year—a goofy selfie with their faces covered in cake from Amaka’s birthday.


“Remember this?” Tola asked.


Amaka smiled. “Yeah. That was such a fun day.”


“How many likes did this picture get?” Tola asked.


Amaka frowned. “I don’t know. Probably not a lot.”


“Exactly,” Tola said. “But does that make it any less special? Does it make that day any less fun? You’re so caught up in social media that you’re forgetting what really matters.”


Amaka stared at the picture, and for the first time, she got it. The memories, the people, the real connections. Those were what mattered. Not some random number on a screen.


That weekend, Amaka decided to take a break from Instagram. She hung out with her friends, tried a new hobby, and even volunteered at a local shelter. When she finally logged back in a week later, she realized something surprising: she didn’t care as much about the likes anymore. She posted pictures because she wanted to share moments, not because she needed validation.


And guess what? The likes came back. But this time, Amaka didn’t need them to feel good about herself. She had learned that life was about being present, making memories, and connecting with people—not chasing numbers on a screen.


Moral of the Story

Your worth isn’t measured by likes or followers. Real life happens offline. 



WATCH OUT FOR ANOTHER STORY FROM 


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The Secret of the Forgotten Village




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