Living on The Fat Side of Life

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I am a man endowed with a gift that has long since been maligned by the dictates of Western body image standards. I weigh just over 100kg; a huge chunk of which is pure body fat. In the recent past, a person of my physique was a reflection of good living and a wife who actually gave two fucks about your ‘health’. A protruding stomach was a symbol of prosperity and something that young men actually looked forward to acquiring.

Muscles on the other hand, were as a result of hard work- a province of menial labourers. But somewhere along the way the rules began to change, and corpulence became a sign of laziness.
What was once a privilege reincarnated into a social taboo. Those endowed with extra padding were shunned and anorexic became the new beautiful.

Since then, living on the rotund side of life lost its glint and came with its own challenges. Fat has become a slur and at least in Kenya, we are a discriminated minority. Fat children are more likely to be discriminated at school. Plus sized adults pay more for matatu and airplane seats. We bite the bullet and take the fall for the svelte model that habitually farts in the elevator. And we are sized out of fashion with the same zeal that we are passed over for dates, like sour vegetables in a buffet.

It appears to be a sad state of affairs but all that self-loathing and concerted effort some flawed body standard is a waste of time. For fat never lost its phat. Fat is in fact cool. It is this idea that fat and sexy are not compatible that needs to be challenged.

It is a pity that not enough fat brothers stand large and tall against these body fascists, mocking and intimidating those who do not aspire to their emaciated idea of body perfection.

Look around you. I mean, look closely past the Hollywood celebrity parade and news anchors- and examine the position of fat men in the society. How many lissome men in Kenya do you see eddying on the chair in the corner office marked C.E.O? How many of our politicians do you see with a six pack? Behind every lean and graceful model on a runway is a chubby guy calling all the shots, and juggling the attention of beautifully sculptured women lining up to stroke his belly.

It is true that fat men are not exactly a tonic for tired eyes. We are not aesthetically pleasing to the majority of the ladies, at first sight. But ones’ inability to find a girl to love has nothing to do with weight, but rather confidence. I watch with amusement several muscle heads grumble as soon as I walk into a room and open my mouth. Fat men of my ilk are silver tongue devils and every woman likes a man who can crack a good joke. While girls may swoon around the athletic and muscular types, they often (and very hurriedly) arrive at the conclusion that looks can be deceiving.

Most hunks are lazy at courtship and never take the trouble to develop proper conversation skills. In other words, rarely do they get beyond the ‘he looks hot’ phase with desirable women. No sooner does the man open his mouth, than the woman runs straight back to the arms of the confident chubby brother who sounds like Barry White, or Sauti Sol’s Bien-Aime Baraza (without the gay pants of course).

Fat guys have one thing over the conventional hunk. It’s called the element of surprise. While keeping fit and healthy is simply good sense, weight loss for exclusively aesthetic goals is a waste of precious time. At the end of the day, what women want is a secure confident and understanding man- and you have got to be kidding me if you insist that you have to look like an airbrushed underwear model to suit these conditions. Body image plagues a lot of men, but for some chubby brothers like me, substance outweighs form. And a good personality is a more secure investment than a six pack in the dating game.

After all, isn’t weight just a number?

(840 words)