By Obasa Olatunbosun

That fateful morning, I woke up with a rumbling tummy that bore semblance with that of an impending thunderstorm. I was certain that it was the worms within my visceral walls that caused it and I was furious because I had consumed what the Yoruba call "ebo kanka ti n kagun laya" the previous night. I sat up in bed and I felt dizzy all of a sudden and I had to cover my eyes to regain the balance of my retina.

I managed to get out of my 6 by 6 by 2 mattress, I considered respreading the sheets but the hunger that gripped me convinced me otherwise. I triapsed to the kitchen to the stove only to find an empty pot then I remembered that I had finished a whole 'de rica' of rice the previous night. I rushed to the container of gaari and I opened it and fortunately, I found some gaari in it. I turned the gaari from the container into a bowl and I opened my fridge only to find out that I was out of satchet water.

I swore under my breath and went to the drum where I keep miscellaneous water and took some from it to add to my gaari. On the first spoon I took into my mouth, I felt the muscles in my mouth constrict that I had to grab it momentarily and I remembered the quality that my seller had bragged to me about.
"Se e sure wipe o gbe sha? (Are you sure it is dried?)" I asked as I was buying from her.
"O gbe gan, o tun wa kan. (It is really dry)."
I could not taste it because I was fasting on that day so I took her on her word.

After taking the soaked gaari, I got my senses back, put my breakfast on fire and I could rearrange my room then planned my itinerary for the day. I went to take my bath and I stood at the full length mirror examining my body in front of it. I looked at my body with disdain and anger.

I am a slim girl; scrap that, I am a thin girl or let me say that I am a skinny girl. I weigh less than forty kilograms and I have a 26" waist line. I did not use to be a glutton, in fact I used to be anorexic, I ate probably once in two days and miraculously, I functioned properly.

When I was growing up, my mother used to force me to eat with a cane in hand, a plate in front of me , slow movements of the spoon from the plate to my mouth and a torrent of tears along with mucus from my nose. I had the ambition to be a model, I was willing to attain that dream but it was shattered when I went to a modelling agency and they told me that I didn't have the curves and too skinny. They were telling the truth. I am over six feet tall with the only curves on my body being my joints so I decided to let the proverbial "elephant march my belle" and put flesh around my skeletal frame.

I went on a "see food diet"; I started eating anything I saw, I bought drugs to improve my appetite, I went on a beans-eating binge on prescription by my friends but there was no change except for my glowing skin but " who glowing skin epp?". I wanted flesh on my frame and I wanted the fleshy curves.

I am a student of Mass Communication, majoring in Advertising and PR. I chose the course of study so that I could understand the concept of building and nurturing an image as well as projecting the image. I am also an introvert which is in contrast to what my course requires.

I shook my head in front of the mirror as I saw my frame and an unpleasant smell filled my nostrils bringing me back to earth from my mental hell. I rushed from the bathroom to the kitchen naked and saw the whole kitchen filled with dark fumes which made me realize that I had spent a lot of time in the bathroom. I dragged a rag from the plate rack on the table on the left side of my kitchen, dropped the food from the stove with it and braced myself from the disaster that awaited me in the pot.

Nothing could prepare me enough for the disaster that awaited me in the pot. On opening the pot, an array of fumes hit me, temporarily blinding me before I rushed to the kitchen window to slide it open. My hostel mate, Salewa shouted in her sonorous "Yemisi, oloorun iya! You have set the hostel on fire with your burnt offering. If you know you would be sleeping while cooking, you should have stayed in bed."

Salewa has been my neighbor for three years now; right from the onset during our predegree days. She has been my best friend ever since and we decided that we would rent our apartments in the same hostel since we were both aversive to having roommates. Salewa is a rotund girl with big tummy and an inverted krest bottle legs with thighs that brush whenever she walks giving her regular complaints of skin inflammation causing her to apply a large volume of Vaseline and lotion within her thigh region.

We are an oxymoronical match whenever we attend lectures together as she is a direct contrast of me and I want to be a fraction of how big she is while she wants to slim down to an extent. The irony of our cases is that she doesn't eat much and she gets chubbier at any given opportunity while I have refused to get fat after my gourmand binge.

Although I knew in my heart of hearts that the food in the pot was a lost cause, I still wanted to see for myself for reasons I don't know; maybe closure. I paved through the sea of smoke with the cover of the pot which I held with the napkin that I picked and the inside of the cover was already black. When the proverbial sea of smoke had cleared from the pot by the self-professed Moses; me,I saw a disaster.

The inside of the pot had also blackened, the beans in it had also burnt to black and there was no avenue to salvage the situation. I shook my head in pity for myself. I looked up and discovered that my kitchen ceiling had blackened mildly while the burnt smell rented the air (more like acquired the air.)

I was jolted to reality by my ringing phone and it was then that it dawned on me that I was still naked. I picked the call and it was my dad telling me that he had transferred some money into my account. I grabbed my padded bra and my pants and put them on. I wiped my itching nose and I could smell the burnt smell on my body. It was so strong that I knee that it would overpower any perfume except I took another bath.

I took off my bra and pant and stepped back into the bathroom to take another bath. I finished bathing and on getting to the clothe I intended to put on, it had also been consumed by the burnt smell. I had no alternative other than change my choice.

I put water in the pot so that it would make the washing easier and I stepped out to go to the market. On getting outside my room, my neighbors hailed me sarcastically "Mummy Prophetess", " Incense burner", "Iya Samuel". All in reference yo the disaster of the burning beans.

I boarded a bus from Iyana-Iba to Iyana-Ipaja to buy sewing materials. The bus, having tattered seats with torn leather and the foam bearing semblance with a bread that had been torn apart by a mad man. I was seated in the seat immediately behind the driver beside a plus-sized woman seated beside a slim man next to the window then a plus sized man came in and sat next to me squeezing me in the middle like ham in the middle of a hamburger.

On settling on the bus, a text came in. It was from my immediate ex; John reading " Yemisi, stop asking me for us to get back, I have moved on, you do the same."

John was someone I thought I could spend the rest of my life with and he also promised to do the same to me. It was this reason that I put up with his scathing remarks about my frame. Breaking up with me, he told me "if I marry you, there is nothing I will enjoy in your body, maybe your good behaviour but what about our kids? Your breasts are similar to that of a girl that just attained puberty so I'm sorry I can't continue this relationship. You're too skinny."

To be very honest, John was the main reason I started my "see food diet" and the first time he noticed my gourmand habit, he quipped "you can't have savings with this your eating habit." It hurt Mr deeply but I took it because I loved him and I refused to see the signs.
"Baba e sun, mo fe joko (old man shift, I want to sit down)." The conductor said in a barritone voice and an alcohol and marijuana filled breath.
"Oju e to wi pe awa merin la joko sori aga abi? (Are you blind to the fact that we are already four seated here?)"
"Anty lepa yen o le gba ayee pupo (the slim lady won't take up much space)."
"Ori e ni o pe (you are stupid) " I shot back "o mo wipe ofe ni mo wo oko (you know I am not paying you a bus fare.)" I added.
Suddenly an "agbero" clung on to the bus asking for "Owo morning" which the conductor responded that he was just making his first trip of the day so he didn't have any money on him yet. Thr "agbero"climbed down.

Suddenly, the plus sized man shifted making me way uncomfortable and the woman on the other side pushed me back in response. The conductor burst into uncontrollable laughter at my situation.
I looked left and right
" e Jo e ba mi sun, mi o raye mi (please adjust, I can't breathe."
" e ma pa anty lepa now (don't kill the slim lady.)"
On getting to a bus stop, a large sized woman flagged down our bus and she boarded with her daughter. The woman was bigger than ten of me combined. On sitting down with her daughter taking another space, the conductor threw a jab
"Iya, Owo eeyan meta le maa san ooo pelu omo yin nitori emi ko ni mo so wipe ki e lo tobi iya ( you're paying for three people including your daughter as I did not send you to be this ridiculously big.)"

Seeing the woman, she exuded affluence and it was not due to her size but her clean skin , her clothes and her accessories. I remembered that I read about her bag in Ovation Magazine costing about eight hundred thousand naira and her Rolex was original as it was gliding not ticking. The woman did not respond. All through the bus ride, the conductor insulted yet. the woman did not say a word in response and as her daughter made to say something, she shushed her.

On getting to the Woman's bus-stop a dramatic scene ensued. On alighting, the woman gave him the fare for two people to which the conductor protested and added another insult about her size. The woman grabbed him by the collar and headbutted him thrice opening a floodgate of blood from his forehead and nose. The driver alighted and attempted to interfere by grabbing her by the arm. Without you turning her head, she sent an elbow that connected with the driver's face and a crunching sound emanated from the hit.

The fight reminded me of my first fight or should I say my first beatdown. I was seven years old and I picked a fight with Chidinma, a girl that was twice my size. She had body shamed me and I slapped her face which I bitterly found out that it had no effect at all. She flung me miles by my hand with just one hand then while I was dusting my body, she ran into me pushing me to the ground before sitting on me and pouring sand in my mouth. Seeing this woman deal with the driver and his conductor made me feel like I was taking revenge against Chidinma.

The incident caused a very long holdup and the drivers from the vehicles in the back alighted to see what was happening only to see a large woman beating up two men like babies.
"Iwo fe wa da si ija abi? Ki lo sele ti oo so fun nigba ti o n fimi tayin? (You want to interfere now. When he was insulting me, why didn't you caution him?)
Out of nowhere, a mob surrounded us and there was a songless anthem from them
" Mama, kilosele (madam, what is the matter?). "
"Olosi ti o fimi diwon iya e nile yii lo n bu mi leebu ara. (Its this stupid idiot that has refused to put me in his mother's shoes that's body shaming me.)"

On hearing that, we heard sounds of slaps connecting with the conductor and driver's faces and necks. It was then that I realized that the mob had turned out for the woman. The mob seized the key to the bus from the driver, asked all the passengers to alight then they asked the woman to get on the bus with her daughter then drove off.

The passengers followed the driver and the conductor so we could collect our changes when everything got settled but personally , I wanted to see how the story ended. On getting to where the bus was parked, the driver and conductor prostrated immediately.

The compound had a duplex wgich from the outside looked like it had eight bedrooms and the open space looked like a car dealership with exquisite cars parked. The woman then narrated that it was her driver that went out without informing her and she opted to drive herself when her arthritis kicked in after driving a distance.

While she was telling her story, my phone rang and on looking at it, it was my customer calling. On picking up, she told me that she would soon be going out. I had no choice but to leave the scene but in the end, I was glad that the conductor met his comeuppance and I learnt a lesson on that day from the woman as she had confidence in her body size so I decided that I will build mine too.

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