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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…

The relationship between myself and I is a love-hate one. I love myself, I absolutely do but there’s this lady, her name is ‘I’, she resides somewhere- I’m not sure where but I think it’s either my brain, my mind or my body. Sometimes I think ‘I’ is my shadow but then she lingers even after I can see no visible shadow. ‘I’ is more than the physical or tangible, in fact the fact that she’s not tangible makes her more powerful.

‘I’ is annoying, she annoys me to no end because she is too dauntless and daring and adventurous and she lands me in trouble all the time. Are you looking for bad advice cookie? That’s ‘I’. And she nags so much I find it hard to ward her off so to make her keep shut and have her off my case, I just go along with it… bad decision.

I want to lose weight so I try to cut down on food portions and avoid ‘bad’ food and even when I see a super juicy and cheesy chunk of junk, I direct my mind away by myself, but not ‘I’, ‘I’ redirects me. She comes with this super therapeutic voice and goes ‘do you really want to do this to yourself Hafsah? Do you really not want to indulge in this piece of edible luxury? You only live once you know’ and she is sooo good like an expert siren, I usually end up trailing her demands.

And later when I’m drowning in the guilt of it, she sits cross-legged on a plush chair by the side of the grey cube room that’s my mind and smirks to herself. She’s usually writing on a notepad- that’s one thing myself and ‘I’ have in common- and I think she’s scoring herself. By now it will probably read: ‘myself’ 7- 10834893 ‘I’.

‘I’ doesn’t like letting go of people so even when I have a crush on a guy and I want to move on, ‘I’ pushes me to just check his Instagram page one more time for updates, ‘It helps with the healing process’ she says. But she’s lying because I end up stalking him for three more hours….unhealthily.

‘I’ is (am) a hoarder. Like when she tells me I need stuff I don’t need. She’s like ‘Hafsah we are going to need this in the future, keep it’ and the future comes, and it goes and we never need it but we’ve kept it.

And she even hoards memories, some good ones- I must give her credit- but she hoards even the unnecessary, bad ones and that makes her hold grudges like an expert in the field of grudge keeping (there’s a pun lying here somewhere).

For example there’s a family gathering yeah? And I see that cousin and I’m approaching her because I want to catch up and… ‘I’ actually stops me. She says ‘remember when you were 4 years 7 months 1 week old and this cousin flicked a lit up match at you and it burned your arm? You still want to talk to her after THAT?!!! And the memory comes back anew, I feel the pain of the matchstick sizzle on my arm and I make a 360 turn away from the cousin. ‘I’, you are here on banned from interfering with my family life ever again.

When I learn a new song (which is usually some few lines), I don’t like letting ‘I’ know. Because when she gets hold of those lines, God in Heavens! It takes the whole spirit of the Earth to make her stop endlessly chanting them like a breathing mantra. And it annoys me because it’s stuck in my head every moment! But ‘I’ enjoys it. She just loves tormenting me.

You think you have naysayers? Mine resides within! This lady is my worse critic. Everything I do is subject to judgement. I can’t try to look pretty in front of the mirror, ‘I’ will start dissing me. And if so help me God I try to dance or worse sing, ‘I’ contorts her face like she’s smelling poop and grimaces, I’ll have to shamefully stop. That’s why I don’t like taking pictures because ‘I’ calls each of them ugly save one or two. Because of that, I may take 100 pictures and two days later, I’ll delete the lot to one or two. The ones approved by ‘I’. I hate her guts.

I know you are thinking I should let go of her and I’ve thought about it but even as I’m typing this right now, she’s in here laughing her heads off (wickedly) because she knows she’s here to stay. She knows she’ll outlive me, because I know that house, my mind will breathe and exists even after my body gives up the ghost.

And I can’t mute her because in between it all, she drops the most amazing writing and story ideas. She’s my perfectly ever-engaging muse. That’s where our love relationship comes in. I love her for the endless supply of stories she provides. Ever wondered why my stories are usually sadistic? Well….

And she’s my gossip partner, who else will I laugh about my boss with? Most times when you see me laughing to myself, it’s myself and I sharing an inside joke. And she spins the most romantic stories when she’s on her monthly’s. And she can be sweet in a mean way. She comes up plenty horrible ways to get back at people many of which I thankfully forcefully dismiss.

‘I’ is (am) a creative fellow, sometimes mean but usually to me and generally, there’s not a single dull moment between ‘I’ and myself.

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… 

Aisha Madaki

Sandra was raped by some street guys at the age of 14 when she was in High School, she was expelled because of the pregnancy she got. Both her parents were dead so she lived with her neighbors because her relatives weren’t there for her. She was sent out of her neighbors’ house because of the pregnancy and the society wasn’t there to protect her. She took care of herself despite so much difficulties moving from this job to another. After giving birth to her baby girl, Ana, she made it her biggest priority to protect the girl. She met a guy, Andrews who usually visits the cafe she works at then. When the baby was 3years old, They got married. He’s a commercial Driver. He took care of her and her Daughter. Sandra got the chance and went back to school. They were living a contented life.

Ana is now 8 years old, she’s growing well and started going to school. Her Mother protects her in all possible ways. 

One unfortunate Night, Andrews got back home very drunk, Sandra was helping him relax when she found gun inside his pocket. She was deadly scared, he wasn’t in his senses so she hid the gun inside drawer. He woke up later and couldn’t ask her of the gun, he thought maybe he dropped it in the car they robbed together with his friend.

“I’ll get it in the morning” He concluded 

Sandra was in dilemma, she trusted and loved Andrews so much, buh seeing him with gun scared her. 

“what was he doing with a gun?” “How do I know the truth?” She was very confused. 

“I need to protect Ana” She added

Andrew woke up early as usual, he kept smiling without reason. Sandra was scared wether he found out the hidden gun. He cleared his throat and to her surprise he wasn’t talking about the gun

“Today is our 5th anniversary if you’ve forgotten, I want us to go out for dinner in the evening” 

Sandra was very happy to hear that, she hasn’t forgotten about it, but the night was an unfortunate one. 

“Thank you Andrews, we’ll be ready by 7PM ” She said 

Ana was very happy, it’s the first time she’d be having dinner outside with her parents. 

Andrew went back home around 6PM, Sandra and Ana were already set to go. He went to change when someone called his phone. The phone kept ringing, Sandra took the phone and at that instant a message popped in.. 

“You can never disappoint us after waiting for good 5years, it’s either you bring that girl to us or we kill your wife together with your 3 kids” she couldn’t stand again, she fell down in tears. Ana rushed to her asking “Mum what happened? Is anything wrong? Tell me please”

“Ana you must leave this house, go to our Neighbor Miss Blessing, I’ll come and pick you there” 

“What do you mean Mum, we are going out for dinner with Dad”

“Don’t call him Dad again, He’s a wicked Person, listen to your Mum okay. We don’t have time, tell her that she shouldn’t tell anyone you are there, I’ll come myself to take you, if I didn’t she should keep hiding you there please” 

“Mum…”

“Ana run, we don’t have time, he can be here any second. Just run” she pushed her out of the house

“Let’s go, wait where’s Ana?” Andrews interrogated 

“I sent her out” 

“What do you mean?”

“What are you planning on doing with my daughter? Who are you giving my daughter to? Did you married me because of my daughter? Who are you?” Sandra Shouted in tears giving him his phone

He grabbed her by neck and said “Now that you figured it out tell me where that girl is, it’s the only thing that will spare your life” 

“Even if you’ll kill me I won’t tell you”

“You think I won’t? Let me tell you, I’ve never loved you for a second, I have a woman I love with 3 Children. Can’t you see I couldn’t have a child with you. You are nothing but trash, with nobody in this earth to help you, I want your daughter at this age to make sacrifice and become billionaire, after that I can think of making you my mistress”

Painful tears kept dropping from Sandra’s eyes. She regretted the whole of her meeting Andrews. Her heart was shattered. Her breathe seized. She was in all of Shock and Agony. Five years of marriage, only to find out the Person she sees as Husband is a monster. She kept solving puzzles; He works every day and night, sometimes for a whole of a week, month and even more. He’s been definitely going to his Family. Not only that he’s a Robber, he now wants to sacrifice my only child, the only reason I’m putting a strong face as if my heart isn’t burdened..

“Where is the Bastard??” His shout brought her back to life. 

“Kill me and I’ll tell you in Hell” She muttered 

“I’ll end this today” He angrily went to the car he drove. She ran and brought out the gun she hid. He came in with nothing only to find what he was looking for in her hands. He’s now the one in shock. How did she get this? What the hell is this? He suddenly remembered last night; she took it then, he concluded. 

“Don’t think of pulling this trigger, you don’t know the consequences” 

“I don’t care wether I’ll end up killed or imprisoned as long as I’ll protect my daughter”

“Sandra don’t, remember how I took care of you, I was the only person that took you in. I protected you and provided you with everything you wanted…” He kept reminding her of the good deeds he did to her

Sandra was confused, He showed her love and care, He gave her so much Happiness, Her only daughter sees him as Father…” But it’s the same daughter he wanted to sacrifice now, he’s taking her away from you, he’s going to kill her and then kill you” she told herself 

She looked at him as he knelt pleading her to spare his life. She finally made a decision…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.

Title: To the girl who once lived 

By Eniola Balogun

The bullet went back to the gunAs I walk backwards I had wanted to convince the poor girl that she was saferJust before I could try to do it she pulled the triggerAs I walk back to my car driving backwards I started to re-live what already went down
It started at dawn I was a police officer I heard some noise so I went in to see herI try so hard to make her tell me what went downShe constantly kept saying one thing that he would kill herI got all tensed up and wanted to save her I guess you can’t really save someone from himselfShe rushed and pull my gun like she’s meant to do itI was already scared I was meant to stop her Before I could do it she was smiling,she pulled the trigger

By Idris Ayanfe

At the altar she had a slight flashback of the first time the met and how her husband to be managed to persuade her to experience a love she had never expected nor believed could be true but Peter changed her life in a million ways more than she can remember, he was the man of her dreams that came true and had more to offer than she had envisaged, her protector her lover and confidant. He loved her that night like a true lover, she was happy. The next morning While the newlyweds played hide and seek but adding a personal twist to how the game was played; they added the use of pin balls and guns so whoever could spot the opponent had the right to open fire at will, the balls hurt like hell, the players were permitted to aim at any part of the body in exception of the face. She spotted her husband crawled behind the couch turning his butt to her, to add some spice to the game they decided to play in their underwear. She thought of the pain and possible reflex after being hit by the balls 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: Happy Deathday

Gift Ukay


She had woken up depressed as always, with no expectations for the new day; not even her birthday. Living isn’t worth it, the demons in her head had always told her. 
Waking up, she pulled out her diary from underneath her pillow, and resumed to pouring out her emotions on the pages with her ink. 
Dear diary,
It’s my birthday, but it looks more like a death day. I have so much grief in me. I can’t hold on for much longer. So, I ask for a gift, a gift befitting this day…
As she wrote, the tears flooding her eyes blurred her vision. She tried wiping them off with the back of palm. She continued writing, and stopped when she heard the ding-dong at the door. Rising on her feet, she made for the door. 
On opening, there was no one there, but on the floor laid a parcel. She lifted it. Shutting the door behind her, she opened it up. Inside it was a revolver with a red ribbon and a paper tag with inscription ‘Happy Deathday’. 
“My gift,” she muttered. After admiring it, she lifted it to her head. Smiling, she pulled the trigger.
Gift Ukay

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.