Flash back a year ago,

“One minute more!”, screamed the invigilator. I submitted my papers and made my way out of the hall. That was my last paper and today, I can finally call myself, at least, a prospective graduate of biochemistry.

“Soboolo(so fat)”, I heard someone call. It was one of my course mates but I was not going to respond to that. I grabbed my bag and made my way down the stairs with no friends to say good bye to. Hurriedly, I grabbed my stuff from my hostel room and off I was to my mum's.
“School's done, real life begins huh”, I thought to myself.

My name is Aziza Boatemaa Tahir. Everyone calls me Soboolo. I hate that name but I care less. At age twenty-two I weigh a hundred and seventy kilos and I am quite dark in complexion just like my late dad. I have vitiligo, an incurable disease that causes the loss of skin colour in blotches. Mine happens to occur in relatively larger patches more prominent around my eyes, mouth and arms.

Staying at home after school was a situation I dreaded even before I sat for my final exams. I lived with my mum, Mama and my younger sister Ruki. My mother was a market queen who sold confectionery at the central market of Accra. She was the type who would put on extra make up and colour blinding lip gloss just to, in her words, “shame my enemies” and was always the first among her crew to get the latest GTP cloth. My sister was the "all-knowing" as Mama called her and also Mama's favourite who recently completed senior high school.

Growing up, I always had issues with my mother. Today, it was the fact that she had to spend a lot of money on clothes due to my size. Another day, it was because my feet were big hence, she spent more money on shoes for me. But even with all that, it wasn’t so bad living with her until she realised the discolouration on my skin. That was right after my dad had passed away and the vitiligo set in. She hurriedly took me to the local witch doctor who treated the market women. According to him, I was cursed by my paternal grandmother. Since then, my mum found faults in everything I did. And I only found solace when I got into secondary school as a boarder.