Arya Permana, an Indonesian teenager who once weighed 421 lb (191 kg), was so big that he had to take showers outside in a specially constructed pool. Although he has been labeled the “world’s fattest kid,” he proves that hard work and setting goals always pay off. Let’s learn more about Arya’s story.
The boy was dubbed “the world’s fattest child.”
Arya Permana is 15 years old and used to eat 5 meals daily, including rice, fish, meat, vegetable soup, and a traditional soy patty. It was enough food to serve 2 adult people, on average. The little kid had to stop attending school since he’d quickly run out of breath while walking. Because his parents could no longer find clothes that fit him, Arya had been wearing nothing more than a sarong for a long time.
But eventually, he decided to make a change.
Arya Permana changed into a much slimmer version of himself from a boy weighing 421 lb (191 kg). The Indonesian student has lost a significant amount of weight at just 183 lb (83 kg), and he’s even been motivating others to adopt healthier lifestyles. Ade Rai, his trainer, assisted him in learning about physical activity and a balanced diet.
Arya is now a symbol of hope.
His trainer said that Arya initially weighed 187 lb (85 kg) before his appetite drastically grew. Now he is slimming down without losing his spirit. Notably, among adults, this is a rare quality. He’s become a symbol of hope, and now people say things like, “Even Arya can lose weight, so why can’t I?” The kid combines a strict training schedule with a nutritious diet and medical care. Ade Somantri, Aria’s father, claimed that his son’s weight loss was made possible by medical care, a strict exercise routine, and a diet.
Arya used not to be able to stand for more than a few minutes at a time. He can now play football and other sports with his pals and walk to school after undergoing a major operation to reduce the amount he eats. And we are so happy for him!
What are your goals that you’re determined to achieve no matter what? Do you have an inspiring story you want to share? We can’t wait to hear it!
Preview photo credit AFP/EAST NEWS, Future Publishing / Future Publishing / Getty Images
My husband wanted a divorce because I couldn’t give him a son. What happened next changed our lives forever.
Marriage had always been a partnership of love and support, or at least that’s what I believed when Steve and I first tied the knot 16 years ago. Over time, we were blessed with five beautiful daughters, each one a joy and a challenge in her own way. Yet, in Steve’s eyes, our family lacked something crucial: a son.
Steve’s desire for a male heir became an obsession, overshadowing every happy moment we had. His traditional mindset dictated that a man’s legacy could only be carried on by a son, and our daughters, no matter how wonderful, were seen as inadequate. This belief had eaten away at the fabric of our marriage, turning our once joyous union into a battleground of unmet expectations and silent resentment.
Steve’s job kept him away most of the time, leaving me to juggle the responsibilities of raising our daughters, maintaining the household, and managing a part-time online job. His absence wasn’t just physical; it was emotional too. He was a shadow in our home, present yet distant, and his discontent seeped into every corner of our lives.
The Breaking Point
One late night, a seemingly innocent conversation spiraled into a full-blown argument. I had suggested trying one more time for a son, even though I was already forty. Steve’s response was brutal and laced with years of pent-up frustration.
“Shut up already,” he snapped. “We’ve been together for 16 years and you couldn’t bring me a son. What makes you think you will do it this time?”
I tried to reason with him, “But Steve, only God…”
“ONLY GOD DECIDED TO PUNISH ME WITH YOU AND ANOTHER 5 FEMALES,” he yelled, his face contorted with anger. “I wish I could go back in time and change everything.”
The venom in his words was palpable, and it stung more than any physical blow could. Our daughters, our life together, everything we had built was being torn down in this moment of raw emotion. Suddenly, we heard a noise behind the door. When we checked, there was no one there, and we dismissed it as the creaking of an old house. Little did we know, that sound was a harbinger of the events that would soon unfold.
The Missing Child
The next day, our lives took an unexpected turn. It was 6 pm, and Lisa, our 12-year-old, was always home by this time. Panic set in when she didn’t show up. As worry gnawed at us, Sara, our second-born, came running with tears streaming down her face, clutching a letter.
Steve snatched the letter from her hand and began reading. His face went ashen, his eyes widened with fear. He turned to me, his voice trembling, “This is serious.”
The letter was a ransom note. It claimed that Lisa had been kidnapped and demanded an exorbitant amount of money for her safe return. The instructions were clear: no police, no tricks, or we’d never see her again.
The Race Against Time
Our world was shattered. The next hours were a blur of frantic phone calls, desperate plans, and heart-wrenching decisions. Steve, usually stoic and composed, was a mess. His obsession with having a son seemed insignificant now compared to the possibility of losing his daughter.
The experience taught us that the value of family isn’t determined by gender but by the love, respect, and support we give each other. Steve learned to cherish his daughters and our marriage, realizing that true happiness comes from within and is nurtured by the bonds we share.
Our lives were forever changed by that harrowing experience, but it also brought us closer, forging a stronger, more resilient family. The past year had been incredibly tough, but it led to a new beginning, one where we could all be truly happy together.
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