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I want to lose weight but I don’t want to hear the mention of exercise, dietary changes, portion control, surgery or any non-surgical procedure, starvation, or any slimming tea that cannot work within 4days of use and cannot prevent the recurrence of fat. In other words, I need to lose weight by doing one magical thing once to make the extra fat disappear never to appear again.

One concept (out of many) brought by the white man that I do not appreciate is that of ‘fat’ culture. Fat girls used to be the divas in Africa. But no! The white people zoomed in and said ‘hey, see those bunch of chubby happy people, let’s go call them fat and try to make them miserable’, all because of what? So that I’ll stop eating fried meat? Lai lai.

What is fat to me maybe not be fat to you. My definition of a fat person is completely different from that of the white man who categorizes people as either anorexic or obese. What they don’t know is that all those ‘fat girls’ who get bullied in high school are normal in weight over here. 

Anyway, as a fat girl everywhere (and I use the adjective ’fat’ with so much fondness), problems unique to your body size tend to arise. For example the extra awareness of body mass and the space it takes, especially when you want to take public transport and the only spot available is one between two fat women (I hardly see fat men in public transport), and you have to squeeze your own fat to join them, and they just mash you to one side, you literally feel your own fatness getting rolled like dough, that’s when you’ll know fat is elastic.

How many of you can’t climb Okada because you feel like the tire will burst, the Okada will not move and your side will slowly go down while the driver goes up until your weight under-balances the whole thing and the driver falls off. I have a friend who has this as a phobia.

Let’s talk about image. Wearing clothes can be easy enough before you look in the mirror, that’s when you start to find everything wrong with it. From the fitting to the bust to the waist to hips, you might take it back to the tailor to shape the waist because it will look better and by the time the clothes are back, you can’t fit in them. Reality check: our waists are layered, what did you expect?

I usually look at myself in the mirror each morning to monitor my belly’s activities. Are you getting rounder, flabbier or flatter? And when that slimming tea I’ve been taking for two days whispers ‘flatter’ to me, I see that my stomach has shrunk and I yelp in joy. My 20k slimming tea is working. It will take 5 days for me to realise I was just sucking in my stomach. My 20k wasted. And I’m like…

Slimming teas are stupid something. As a novice, I advise you to maintain. Do not start using those things if you will go to work, school, bank and definitely not market because it will turn your stomach into a craze house. Make sure you will be at home for the 30 rounds to the toilet to come. One will think with all those trips your stomach will touch your back after one bag of tea. Instead, it’s like you have just shited out your intestines but the fat dey gan.

When you feel like you are ill and you google what it means to have itching fingernails, hard feet, rumbling stomach and fat thighs and they tell you that one of the diseases has symptoms such as Weight loss and you are like ‘Well, the disease doesn’t sound so bad’ even though another symptom is dimentia. But then you are stupid.

When you are ill for days and you lose 5kg and everyone is lamenting how the sickness has taken a toll on your fat and you are also nodding with a sober expression but inside you are jumping and screaming in happiness. You don’t mind if the illness will eat up all the excess fat without making you feel sick.

But then you get better, and you start making up for all your lack of eating. And now you eat 2 big indomie and still feel hungry instead of one. You can literally feel the Kg add up till you are fatter than you were. It’s annoying that all that sickness and nothing to show. 

Stop watching reality shows, movies, cartoons, news and TV if you want to maintain your sanity in a world that celebrates and rewards slim. They’ll just remind you of your extra weight every minute because their fine is characterized by being weightless while yours is not but sometimes you forget that. The Kardashians will make you want to get a waist trainer to slim it in but it’s a lie, it wasn’t waist trainers and exercise, it was surgery. Nigerians die during Liposuction, be warned, case study: Former First Lady.

What fits the goose might not fit the gander. My skinny friends and sisters can eat 50 tonnes of fat loaded food and never gain an ounce (witchcraft and wizardry), I dream about eating cucumber, I have gained 23KG. And then once you start eating junk after a diet, forget that thing, you are broken rollercoaster, you must go all the way and then some. Your eyes will become a scale and as every bite of juicy goodness hits your stomach, your KH has upped but you can’t stop. Don’t worry, perks of being a great person.

Even disney princesses are slim. The fattest is Tiana who is black and no more fatter than my thin sister… and she still has flat tummy. They make it feel like we can’t find our Prince Charming. Just because you can’t run and hug our prince charming without toppling him over and suffocating him and we can’t be carried bridal style expect Prince charming is a weight lifter (in that case Prince Charming will want to make you start gyming, it’s a trap), doesn’t mean our happily ever afters will be less beautiful.

I, for one have grown so much fond of my fat. It’s my shock absorber. I’m less shocked at turn of events or actions of people than slimmer people who lack the padding to absorb the shock before it reaches their heart. Plus it takes more effort to break my heart because my heart lies on a pillow within. I think that’s why fat people have better sense of humor and are more sarcastic.

I’m not fat to the point of being unhealthy… Thank God. And I don’t advise anyone to be, if you are please do something about it. I try to keep fit by walking and strolling and that’s why I can cover more distances on foot than many. I’m just an average Jane who, in a sea of thin, hungry looking people looks not chubby, but fat. So I’m not a ‘not-healthy’ advocate. I just want to rock my flabs in peace, and I’m addressing my number one critic- Me.

I have more. Maybe will share it in part 2. 

What are you fat girl problems?

Disclaimer- The writer writes to connect, to be relatable, to be a home for people who might just not have the right avenue to vent. This is in no way depicting my everyday life. I am not bemoaning a condition or anything serious. This is real life issues on a light note and I shouldn’t be explaining my writeups but well…

Submitted by Aisha Hamza

  I arrived at Tara’s apartment a little past eight p.m. She enveloped me in a warm hug and led me to the lavishly set dinning area where candle lights were competing with porcelain dishes . Sitting down, I allowed my eyes roam on the body hugging sequined dress that flattered Tara’s beautiful body. I might just propose tonight.

  Tara excused herself and went into the kitchen. Suddenly something moved from the shadows and surfaced in form of Tiara. She didn’t give me time to recover from my shock as she said “long time no see Ayo”. There was no way my ex from hell was sitting across from me. Too shocked to say a word, beads of perspiration gathered on my forehead.

“Tiara, I see you’ve met Ayo already” It was Tara’s honeyed voice. What in the world was going on? I mused. Tiara flashed Tara a smile. 

    “Ayo, this is my twin sister Tiara”. The universe must be playing tricks on me. “Remember the two girls on the night of the 27th, 2008. Your boys and you. Remember the rape Ayo”?
It was Tiara speaking.
I looked up and saw Tara holding a gun. “It’s payback time Ayo”. Smiling, she pulled the trigger. 

This story was written as an entry to the Flash Fiction contest hence the theme but unfortunately, due to technical issues, it was not received.

Writers Bio

Aisha Hamza

Aisha Hamza is an ardent and growing creative writer who is passionate about stringing words together. She is a poetic soul with the pen of a word artist and hopes that some day,her name would be written in gold amongst a legion of renowned writers.

The list of the top 20 stories to qualify for the judging stage is ready. The list was compiled following five-day the voting process where some stories had almost 300 votes to their names.

Shortlisted writers for Flash Fiction Writing Contest:

1. Dela Azojani Adeorike

2. Stephen Ezennwa

3. Jesutofunmi Fekoya

4. Hauwa Hala Nuraddeen

5. Umeh Prisca Ijeoma

6. Deborah Johnson

7. Nana Khadija Yahaya

8. Mary Emmanuel Bawa

9. Eniola Balogun

10. Idris Ayanfe

11. Chiziterem Chijioke

12. OYENIRAN TOFUNMI EUNICE

13. Ruqayyah Saghir Nabage

14. Yunusa Ibrahim

15. Gift Ukay

16. Ishola Ubaidah

17. Annie Ifinedo

18. Rabi Lawal

19. Aisha Bint Mahmud

20. Khadija Musa

All 20 shortlisted stories were beautifully relayed but only three will winners will be announced on the 28th.

The judges will judge based on story line, theme, how well the rules were followed, diction, punctuation and many other factors.

2nd Runner up- N2,000

1st runner up- N3,000

Winner- N10,000.

May the very best story win. Best of luck to all.

Title: Different 

By Dela Azojani Adeorike

Samson was Delilah’s little piece of heaven and she was everyone’s desire. The six months with him had been a bed of roses until fourteen days ago.  Samson had invited her for a party. At the party, she couldn’t find him. She asked few people,” please am I his keeper?” said another hissing and cursing…when she found him, “meet me upstairs in five minutes’ time”Samson said giving her a snack. Walking up the stairs, shecollapsed at the door. With nausea, she ran to the bathroom for a puke only to feel something roll down her thighs. Delilah had been waiting him, but he wasn’t welcoming at all. ” where have you been? I have been worried sick about you, don’t you know-” Delilah said but he cuts in ” madam you don’t need to worry about me, hope your whole adventure with those guys was mind-blowing like they said”. He was gone before she could reply. Thinking of the whole incident, she found herself at Samson’s door, he had planned the gang rape and spread that she was a cheerful giver.  She waltzed in with a gun, points samsonand smiling, she pulled the trigger… 

By Stephen Ezennwa

I thought we were done;

She said I was gonna miss her; no doubts I did, but this?

No, I didn’t bargain for this, none of this.

I broke up with her over the phone and thirty minutes later she was at my apartment;

We talked it out;

She told me that it wasn’t going to be easy for her to move on;

But she promised me she’d be fine;

I made her promise me that she won’t do anything drastic;

She left with tears in her eyes;

Even at the moment I broke up with her I loved her;

Seven months later, I’m at Kilimanjaro getting myself treated to a nice meal, courtesy of Phay, my new girlfriend;

After not seeing her for so long, She walks out of nowhere looking like she’s been on some strong shit, wearing a pair of boots and raggedy clothing;

Merely looking at her I knew she hadn’t gotten over it;

I rushed over to where she was and gave her a hug;

Phay opened up for one but she wasn’t taking any of that;

She joined us at the table, we talked, ate, laughed just like old times but she carefully avoided talking directly to Phay;

She said it was time for her to leave;

She stood up and told me to look her straight into the eyes whilst bringing something out of her bag;

“Don’t worry dear” Phay said, thinking she wanted to foot the bill.

Still looking at her, she brought out a pistol and pointed it at Phay and asked me 

“Is she the reason you left me?” 

“I was willing to change for you but I guess you wanted someone else.” 

….. Smiling, she pulled the trigger.

By Chiziterem Chijioke

Abebe was no man that he thought himself to be. He felt the need to cheat on her, and not just that, he felt the need to have another family. And when she had found out, she had confronted him. His only apology was the contact of his palm with her very yellow skin. She had stumbled, stunned and shocked at his reaction. He had betrayed her. Why? For what? Rising from the seat, her eyes drenched with tears, the room empty, silent and free from the echoes of younglings running in glee, she realized why Abebe had changed. She was barren. Ten years of marriage, no issue and suddenly it was only her fault. But the humiliation would never happen again. He was passed out on the couch opposite her, his eyes closed and his breath smelling of liquor. He had returned from seeing his second family. And here he was, uncaring about how she felt. Well that was good, because she was uncaring too. There was only one solution to all the problem and it involved someone’s end. It wasn’t going to be hers. Lifting both her hands from her sides, smiling, she pulled the trigger.

Title: THE WRONG GIRL

By Yunusa Ibrahim

Kattume could not believe her eyes shortly after she fully regained her consciousness. “Inna lillahiwa’inna…”, She mumbled, completely dumbfounded. She was constricted to a metallic chair, legs apart and arms apart. She could not scratch her itching body parts from mosquitoes’ bites or wipe off a frightening sweat running down her long neck. Her heart was beatingspasmodically fast. She’s terrified. To conceal it, she pretended to be still unconscious; thus, she could subdue the fear.  

Her kidnapper, waiting for her full concentrationslapped her after he realized what she did. “Ok, listen up, girl”, he shouted. “In case you don’t realize what is going on here because I poisoned you before I kidnapped you, this is a serious business that needsyour cooperation”

As with many kidnappers, he was carrying a gun butwas slightly distracted by a transparent view of her pointy chest caused by the profound sweat. He untightened her and made a move for it. She was pissed off for that and bit off his ear. Disoriented, he dropped down the gun while shouting. She picked up the gun and pointed at his frontal lobe. “Oh no!”, he exclaimed. Paradoxically smiling, she pulled the trigger.

By Chirpeewrites.

When she was ten, she believed she could fly. She thought it was all about flapping your wings and then you’d meet with the sky. As she grew older, she realized it doesn’t work like that, life never treated her right. She was faced with all of the bad. Life pushed her to her limit, tested her beyond her endurance.
It started when she lost her mom. She had to cater for her brother and herself at age fifteen. The people she turned to for help, forced their ways in between her legs. She stopped liking who she was, sometimes she’d envision herself speaking with God, trying to ask him the reason for what he has done because she feels cheated and she hasn’t done anything wrong.
So one Friday night she picked up a gun and decided to end the pain. She placed her hand on her heart, but she didn’t feel any purpose worth staying alive for. She said a little prayer in her mind. “Lord, if I ever come back to the world, don’t make me this girl!” For a special moment she felt alive, knowing very soon the pain would end, smiling, she pulled the trigger.

Z

By Fadilat Ozohu Ibrahim

“Twenty (20) minutes earlier… 

In front of ‘nitel event hall’ she had stepped out of car so shining black. She wore a beautiful gown that made her looking so radiant the gatekeeper forgot to checked his list while smiling foolishly. 

The event had already started, and that’s perfect, no one will pay much attention to her. Easing through the crowd she sighted him just as expected… 

Standing a meter away,  she called out “Micheal” and on hearing his name,  he turned to see a beautiful angel standing.

Smiling, she retrieved a shotgun from her golden purse and pointed it at him.

Within a split seconds, he remembered the last time he had seen this angel, It had been in a room illuminated by just a table lamp, she sprawled on the ground with her body covered with bruises struggling to her feet and pleading with him to let her go,  he had said then: ” if you think you have anywhere to go, then leave” she had left then saying she would come back for him even if it meansher death.  Is this it?  He thought 

Thinking about the same thing too and still smiling,  she pulled the trigger.

Emily

By Rabi Lawal

With gloomy eyes, by the left dim corner of her room, she sat on the floor and began talking to herself again.

    Emily’s a fifteen year old girl who lost her father and brother in a car accident. She lived with her mother and stepfather before her mom died too. All she had left was traumatic memories which made her mentally deranged. She continued living with her stepdad who’s a detective and a silent psychopath. He maltreated her unjustly, hurting her physically and mentally .His wrongful practices towards her were abusive that all she craved was light, justice and freedom. She always made solitude and got lost in confusion and uncontrolled excitement. She’d scream and hallucinate all through the night after being tortured by her stepfather. She kept thinking of an elimination strategy but to no avail.

One night, he walked to her room pointing a gun at her,threatening her to do as he asked and that was when she fought back. With tears rolling down her eyes, she pushed him down and snatched the gun shouting “you won’t touch me now!” All she thought at the moment was her freedom from grief smiling, she pulled the trigger.