The time is 0725hrs Nigerian time, Sunday July 4 2019 and it’s been raining all morning. I am writing this from Owerri, Imo state.
This necessary description given above was advised by Ms. Kemi Olunloyo(award winning investigator and journalist). The time stamp is here simply for the fact it gives your story credibility when it is happened upon in 60years time so permit my usage of this because certainly this is a real story.
For the past week I’ve been punishing myself in the name of achieving a perfect body. The usual pep talk I give myself every 35 minutes no longer cuts it. My Rihanna body has begun gyrating towards Lizzo’s body(no offense Lizzo, I still think your song “Truth Hurts” is the bomb and yes I do believe we still can be best friends, I hope??)
The beautiful curse that afflicted my ancestors before me has caught up with me. Being the designated BBW amongst friends and family is my curse and blessing. As a BBW, there are only so much clothes I can wear or activities I can engage in. This is definitely no excuse to be obese too, so breathe easy. In four days, I’ll be expecting a friend who is coming all the way to see me and I promise you, it is not what you think. Okay, probably it is what you may think it is…you know what?? That is just besides the point let’s be focused here shall we?? If my work is to eaten, why deny the Lord’s work??(I’m sorry Jesus).
Whilst preparing for this August visitor of mine who I’ve been friends with for as long as social media exists but I’ve never seen as a result of a whole lot of latitude and longitude reasons, I’m forced to make a great first impression for his sake and mine.
Just two weeks ago I got this beautiful skirt that is a size too small and I had already convinced myself my waist was going to be a cutie for. I was going to lose weight. It just so happens this August visitor enjoys seeing girls wearing skirt. You can only imagine whose fitness journey planned a stretch of two months has been reduced to a drastic two weeks. You see that skirt, we either wear it or die trying. There’s no in between.
I’ve woken up consistently for six days at 04:30am to prepare for my new loved morning ritual of jogging at 05:00am. I’ve run up and down the five flight of stairwell in our apartment. I have done crunches. Hell, I’ve even put in the work for squats and believe me child of God, I’ve suddenly come to the realization “I never appreciated military school enough”. First day of Operation Lose Weight was such a breeze by the second day I instantly became aware of pains in body parts I never knew existed or believed to know pain.
Same week, the borehole system in our yard decided it was the best time for it to break down. For the past 14 months I’ve lived here I can’t remember when I had to go outside to fetch water. My dear brother, that very week was the week my village people prepared to visit me. I had to go buy water from across the road and all the pride I’ve been showing off to the angwa boys laid in weight for me. I mean, I’ve been acting as though it’s not the same oxygen we’ve been breathing in together oo… Alas, they have seen me carrying 25ltrs of Jerry-can and my Goliath fall was a mighty one since the entire week decided to be filled with exercises and suffer head.
It’s been a crazy week with just four days left till my big reveal. Dear one, I have begun to question myself greatly. “Why on God’s green earth do I want to change God’s great design?” LOL! You read right. I am definitely pulling up the “creator, Supreme being” card. After enduring all these insufferable pains in my joints, did you really think I’ll alter my body for man?? Wow oo… No, no, no… Jehovah in His mightiness makes no mistake. If He intends for me to be a BBW, why golly my friend, I would have no other choice but to accept not all waists can be a cutie.
As for that leather skirt, it would also stretch out in size to love me or it keeps being a waist too small and observe with envy how my Turkey Gowns have decided to adorn and embrace all meaty, fleshy and loved parts of me. I am after all rumored to be something of a Spec myself.
Like the gift which keeps giving, Instagram is no longer a place I go to feel depressed on because this particular man keeps posting and liking photographs of size 6 girls sitting out and thriving on their follow-come from Heaven body size. I happened to discover my new favorite IG account; @LatashaLagos. That is the universe speaking to me saying nwa beke, no go do pass yourself at this trying time. Hence, as the new class member (Of LatashaLagos amazing school obviously) of this self love movement, the mantra is now #aboutthatcurvylife.
I did not kill my mother. Man should not come and kill me please. The only thing man should be doing besides pressuring me please is to be eating my work please dear.
Do your homework. (Nessa, 2019)
Happy New month❤