The Genesis

OH dear, the word F...A...T. Every lady's most hateful word when it comes to physical appearance. Well, I wasn't bother with the word F..A..T. My way of handling that was/is "If am too FAT for you to stand, you can either deal with it or die saying it". That was and is still my view on being called FAT, okay back to the how I got to 140kg (O_o) to the point of wearing UK jeans size 24/26...

Naturally I am not a sugar person (meaning that I never liked sweet things but again who doesn't). Seriously guys, I was never a sugar fan- all the sweet drinks, candies, biscuits, etc. but when it comes to rice, YES 

“RICE” I was the head of states of  rice republic. Well in an African/Nigerian house what else is better than some niceeeeeeeeee spicy jellof rice, banga with rice or our Sunday rice and stew. Rice in the cooker, rice in the pot and rice in the fridge. It’s like this: I could eat any kind of rice, tasty or not, once its rice, am game. I could eat rice morning, afternoon and night for like a year (disgusting right? but who cares). Being a 9ja babe, I dislike any swallow (eba and soup I mean); the only food I loved was rice. 

I couldn’t be bothered how much rice I ate and all the carbs in it (like they say, what you don’t know cannot kill you, but I say: what you don’t know might be killing you slowly). In my case, the plate upon plates of rice I was consuming was killing be gradually. The scale kept going up, the dress size kept going up and the height kept going down. It was terrible considering that as a child, I was as skinny as a thread. I would be begged to eat something.

With the weight came health issues, you want to run but (hello!) don’t try doing that cause the consequences might be great. With every step I took, I became out of breath. Yet I didn’t stop eating rice. By the time I realised it, I was 140kg (try carrying 20kg box, then 7 of 20kg box (you are on your own).