This is Rasheedat’s story, as told to Adeyinka

I still remember the day we finally got a diagnosis for my daughter.

For years, I knew something was different about Faizat, but I couldn’t explain what. She never crawled as a baby. She didn’t start walking until after she turned three, and she hardly spoke. She cried a lot, often over things I couldn’t understand. As her mother, it broke my heart because all I wanted was to comfort her, but I never knew what she was trying to tell me.

At the time, I’d never even heard the word “autism.”

Like many parents, I believed she was simply developing late and would eventually catch up. We weren’t aware of any history of autism in our family, so it never crossed my mind that this could be something different.

Instead of seeking medical help immediately, we tried everything we knew.

We visited spiritual homes because people believed she needed prayers. We gave her different herbal concoctions because everyone seemed to know someone with a remedy. We weren’t trying to avoid medical care. We simply didn’t know what autism was, and we were desperate to help our daughter.

It was our neighbours who eventually suggested taking her to a psychiatric hospital. Back then, that idea terrified us. We believed psychiatric hospitals were only for people with severe mental illness. My husband rejected it immediately. He said, “My daughter is not mad.”

Looking back now, I understand why he reacted that way. It came from fear and ignorance, not from a lack of love for his daughter. Eventually, we agreed to go.

Faizat was diagnosed with autism when she was 11 years old. Hearing those words brought both relief and heartbreak. For the first time in years, I finally understood why my daughter had struggled the way she did. I realised her behaviours weren’t because she was stubborn or because I had failed as a mother.

But at the same time, my mind immediately jumped to the future. Would she ever speak fluently? Would she make friends? Go to school? Live independently? Would society accept her?

The doctors prescribed medication to help with her aggression and tantrums. They also explained that therapy would be an important part of helping her communicate and become more independent. Then life happened again. 

Not long after Faizat’s diagnosis, my husband died. Almost overnight, I became a widow raising three children, including a daughter who needed more support than I could afford to give. I was grieving my husband while trying to understand autism at the same time. The medications, therapy sessions and specialist care the doctors recommended were expensive, and I simply didn’t have the money. Those were some of the loneliest years of my life.

Even so, giving up was never an option. As the years passed, I learned that one of the hardest parts of raising an autistic child wasn’t only autism itself. It was how people treated us.

One day, Faizat and I boarded a public bus. She made one of her loud vocal sounds and some passengers became uncomfortable. They complained until the conductor stopped the bus and asked both of us to get down. I can’t fully describe how humiliating that felt.

On another occasion, I booked an Uber. The driver arrived, looked at us, refused to unlock the doors and drove away without saying a word. Those moments stay with you. You aren’t just caring for your child. You’re constantly explaining, defending and proving that your child deserves to exist in the same spaces as everyone else.

Housing also became difficult. Because I couldn’t always afford the therapy and medication she needed, Faizat sometimes had intense meltdowns. Neighbours complained, landlords became uncomfortable, and we had to move from one house to another. People assumed she was possessed or cursed. Some believed I was being punished. Others thought I was simply a bad parent.

Over time, I realised most of those reactions came from ignorance rather than cruelty. But ignorance can still be incredibly painful. They see a child having a meltdown in public, but they don’t see the sleepless nights beforehand. They don’t see the constant supervision, the exhaustion or the fear that never really goes away.

Even after 26 years, I still worry about Faizat’s future. I think about her health, her safety and one question that never leaves my mind: who will care for her when I’m no longer here? At the same time, raising her has completely changed the way I understand love.

Before Faizat, I thought love was simply caring for someone. She taught me that love is showing up every day, even when you’re tired, discouraged or uncertain about tomorrow.

She also changed the way I think about communication. For many years, she couldn’t speak fluently, and I spent so much time wishing she would tell me what she was thinking. Then one day, I realised she had been communicating with me all along.

She communicated through her facial expressions, gestures, routines, and the way she responded to different situations. I’d been so focused on what she couldn’t say that I almost missed everything she was already telling me.

That lesson changed not only how I saw autism, but how I saw people. Being non-verbal doesn’t mean having nothing to say.

For a long time, I kept our journey private because I was simply trying to survive each day. But as I met more parents raising autistic children, I realised so many of us were carrying the same burdens in silence. That’s why I started sharing our story.

I wanted other parents to know they weren’t alone. I wanted families to recognise the signs earlier than I did and seek professional help without fear or shame, and the response has been overwhelming.

Parents have reached out to tell me they finally sought an assessment for their own children after watching our videos. Others have said our story gave them hope during their darkest moments. Strangers have donated towards therapy, medications and Faizat’s care.

Of course, not everyone has been kind. There have been insensitive comments and people who questioned my parenting. But instead of allowing those moments to discourage me, they’ve strengthened my resolve. Today, I run the Faizat Hope Foundation for Autism and Special Needs because I don’t want other families to walk this journey alone.

If there’s one thing I want Nigerians to understand, it’s that autism isn’t a curse or the result of bad parenting. Families like mine don’t need pity. We need understanding, acceptance and support.

Looking back, I would tell my younger self not to waste years searching for a cure. I would tell her to spend that time understanding her daughter instead. I would tell her that although she would lose her husband and carry this responsibility alone, she would also discover a strength she never knew she had.

Most importantly, I would tell her to keep believing in her daughter. Because even though autism changed our lives forever, Faizat also gave my life a purpose I never expected. She didn’t just make me a mother. She made me an advocate for families who deserve to be seen, heard and accepted.

ALSO READ: Mothers Share the Reality of Raising Children With Disabilities

On this week’s Love Life, they talk about the dinner date that forced him to make a move, and a hot air balloon proposal 100 feet in the air that she almost ruined by finding the ring first.

If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this .

What’s your earliest memory of each other?

Adeoye: It was May 2021, and the one memory I held onto was when I saw her fleet. She had posted one from Landmark Beach, and she looked really good. I reacted to it and told her she was pretty. She said thank you, and the conversation ended there, but I couldn’t get her off my mind. 

Before this interaction, I’d seen some of her tweets on the timeline and always thought she was really relatable. 

I texted again a couple of days later, properly this time. We’ve spoken every single day since.

Adebola: My earliest memory of Adeoye is from when I was 13. My best friend in church was his secondary school classmate, and she used to come to church every Sunday with gist about her classmates. So I knew of him from a considerable distance. Then, somehow, we both ended up at UNILAG. I saw him around a few times, but we barely had any interaction. I even followed him on Instagram, but he didn’t follow back.

Adeoye: It’s interesting she mentioned seeing me in UNILAG. She was there the whole time, and I had no idea.

Adebola: Anyway, when he reacted to my Twitter fleet in 2021, I already had an idea of who he was. He didn’t know that, though.

Curious though, did you like him from the jump? Was that why you also followed him on IG? 

Adebola: In a way, yes. I’d just come out of a really toxic relationship the previous year, and I’d made up my mind to take a long break from dating. I was talking to a few people casually, but nothing was going anywhere. Then Adeoye texted, he seemed different from the very first conversation. He was easy to talk to. I thought,  “Okay, this might be something.”

But I wasn’t about to rush into anything.

Adeoye: For me, I shot my shot from day one. I didn’t come and say I just wanted to be friends and then slowly worked my way up to admitting I liked her. I told her she was really pretty from the first proper conversation. But I also had context for why I wasn’t just looking for another talking stage. 

Earlier that year, I’d been with someone who had a long-term boyfriend, and I was essentially the side piece. When I left that situation, one of the things I literally prayed for was my own person. Someone I didn’t have to share with anyone. So when I met Adebola, I already knew what I was looking for, and she felt like the answer to that prayer from very early.

Nice. So how did things move after that first Twitter conversation?

Adeoye: Within the same week, I invited her to my birthday party at my aunt’s place.  When she walked in and sat down in the middle of everyone, she was on a completely different level. She looked prettier than everyone else. Adebola was just a different breed.

Adebola: Honestly, I had absolutely no idea any of this was going on in his head. I thought I was just going to a birthday party with a new friend. But he clearly had a mission.

Adeoye: A few days after the party, I asked her out on a proper date. We went to Papiee’s Meastro in Yaba on the 29th of May. That was when the conversation moved from surface level to something real. I asked about her family, her background, who she is, what she wants and all of that. I was genuinely trying to find out if she was who I thought she was. The date confirmed it.

Adebola: From the very beginning, he was clear that he liked me. He wasn’t playing the friendship game or being ambiguous. He shot his shot immediately, and I appreciated that because it meant I knew where I stood.

So what happened next? Did you guys make things official?

Adeoye: After our date,  things just kept escalating naturally. We were speaking every day. Our conversations got deeper and deeper. I remember thinking at some point, ”Okay, this is definitely more than just casual interest.” I was spending all my time thinking about her, looking forward to our conversations, and making time for her in my schedule no matter what. She was still in school, and I was doing NYSC while working a side job to survive. Quietly, I was also clearing out. I’d been talking to other people when we first started, but I began cutting them off one by one because even without a label between us, I already knew where I wanted to put my energy. 

Adebola: For me, it was gradual, too. The daily conversations, the way he was consistent, the way he made me feel safe to be vulnerable — all of that built up over time. I went from thinking he was just some guy who liked me to realising I actually wanted to build something with him. Once I realised that, I was all in. 

Adeoye: Then I found out she had gone on a date, and everything moved faster.

Wait, what? How did you find that out?

Adeoye: She posted a picture of a space on her Instagram story. Something about it told me it was a restaurant. I’m a culture commentator, and investigative work is part of what I do. I dug around, confirmed it was a restaurant, and then she posted the food later. I knew immediately it was a dinner date. She hadn’t mentioned going anywhere that day, and at that point, we were sharing our day-to-day with each other. So I knew.

Adebola: For context, it was someone I had talked to before Adeoye. He had promised to take me out for my birthday in March but only followed through in June. So to me, it was a late birthday lunch with no romantic intent on my side. I didn’t think it needed an announcement.

Hmmm

Adeoye: I understood all of that later. But in the moment, seeing it was the push I needed. I wasn’t even upset. I thought, “Okay, this girl is smart. She isn’t going to sit around waiting for me to figure myself out.”

 So I started plotting. I told my friends I was going to ask her to be my girlfriend. I booked Pondicheri, an Indian restaurant with a great upstairs spot. I deliberately picked the 1st of July because I’m terrible with dates, and I figured having it on the 1st would make it easy to remember.

Adebola: He says the 2nd, but it’s actually 1st. He’s still super bad with dates. Nothing has changed.

Adeoye: Anyway, she said yes. That’s all that matters.

If you insist. What were the early days of the relationship like?

Adeoye: Interesting times. My NYSC stipend was ₦33k, and my job was paying ₦60k, so I was living on roughly ₦80k a month. At the time, you could take someone on a proper date, even on the island, for about ₦40k. So we were going out once a month, seeing each other on weekends, and talking every day. It was a good period. We were also trying to get into each other’s worlds by watching each other’s shows. I watched three and a half seasons of Insecure just for her.

Adebola: I’ve still not gotten past episode 10 of Demon Slayer. Like he says, the early days were beautiful. We were growing as friends and lovers, learning more about each other. But that period also came with navigating friction around some issues. 

Oh. What issues?

Adeoye: She had a female friend I wasn’t comfortable with. It wasn’t like I had any problem with the lady herself; it was more the things she would do. She’d put Adebola’s head on her lap on Snapchat, kiss her on camera, post it and tag her. I think she felt like she was in some kind of competition with me. Adebola and I had started dating, and I think the friend felt that our relationship was pulling her away.

Adebola: In my head at the time, that was just how we’d always been as friends. We were best friends and very close, so when Adeoye started expressing his reservations, I got defensive. I felt like he was trying to control who I could spend time with. In hindsight, though, I could see it was getting weird, especially when she started posting throwbacks of those things years later, long after I had already told her he was not comfortable with it. That was when I understood it was intentional.

Adeoye: We fought about it a few times. She was defensive, and I was frustrated. But I never asked her to cut anyone off. I just needed her to see what I was seeing. Eventually, she saw it herself, and that friendship fizzled out on its own.

Adebola: The bigger thing for me in those early days was learning not to go on the defensive every time he raised an issue. Every relationship I’d been in before came with insults the moment there was any conflict. So when Adeoye would bring something to me calmly and just explain where he was coming from, I didn’t know how to receive it. I kept waiting for the blow-up. I kept thinking, okay, here it comes. But it never did. Once I realised that is actually just who he is, I started hearing what he was saying instead of preparing my counter-argument. And it helped us navigate our issues easily. But life was still lifing, we still had other real-life issues that got thrown our way.

What do you mean?

Adeoye: I mean, it was just the typical life getting harder before it got better. NYSC finished, I quit the job, and I went into music production full-time. That period was rough. I was going to artists’ camps for days at a stretch. Three days at one camp with nothing but alcohol and plantain chips. No real food. Guys promising payments and going quiet. I eventually took a full year off from the media space to figure out my next move. We weren’t going on dates for months because where was the money?

Adebola: I watched all of it up close. Even when the music was not working, even during the months when nothing was clicking, he never stopped pushing. Watching someone be that consistent made me want to do the same. Before I met him, I’d already been to culinary school in 2020, but I had no real sense of direction. I knew I wanted to cook, but I had no idea how to build something from it. He kept encouraging me and helping me think through how to approach it strategically. I went back to culinary school in 2022. After that, I got a job as a kitchen assistant, worked my way up to chef, then moved through restaurants. All of that happened inside this relationship, and he had a lot to do with why I actually went and did it.

Adeoye: While she was building all of that, things eventually started clicking for me too. I started making content on TikTok, found my lane as a culture commentator, and it grew from there. But through all the years when nothing was working, she never once made me feel small about it. She was always the loudest person in my corner.

Through these challenges, how were you convinced love was still in the room?

Adebola: Speaking of love, I actually said the word first. I remember we’d spent a really good day together, and I was on my way home when I texted him that I thought I loved him. This was about two weeks into the relationship.

Two weeks?

Adebola: I know. But that is just how I am. He, however, said he didn’t love me yet but could feel himself falling, and that he wanted to be sure before he said it. That hurt in the moment. But he was right.

Adeoye: I genuinely couldn’t say it and mean it at that point. Earlier that same year, I’d been saying those words to someone else, and it turned out to mean very little. I didn’t want to do that with Adebola. I needed to be sure I was saying it from a real place, not just because the moment felt good. I said it about three weeks into the relationship. 

But back to your question, it was very hard to doubt the love when we were both cheering so hard for each other, even when we could no longer go on fancy dates. We’d built something very genuine from the start of the relationship, and that really defined what the future of the relationship could look like. 

Adebola: Looking back, I appreciate that he didn’t just confess love to save the moment. It made me stop and ask myself whether I actually loved him or whether I just really liked him and was swept up in the newness of everything. It made the whole thing our foundation solid.

Neat. And at what point did you know you wanted to spend the rest of your lives with each other? 

Adeoye: My aunt planted the seed. She had family in the UK, and when she came back towards the end of 2024, she sat me down and asked when I was going to propose. In my head, I still felt like certain things needed to be in place before I could take that step. Financially, I was not where I wanted to be. But she helped me see that life doesn’t have to be perfect before you make that move. So by late December 2024, I’d made up my mind. I told my mum and my sister first, then a few more people slowly. I got the ring in October 2025.

October? Why was there such a long gap before the proposal?

Adeoye: I was broke. The magazine I was managing wasn’t paying what it should have been. I resigned in March last year and went through a dry spell while I was building my own thing. Money started coming in eventually. I took a loan from a family member, sorted the ring, and started planning for May, which is my birthday month.

Adebola: What he didn’t know was that I’d already found the ring in March. His sister had just moved out, and I went into the room to see what it looked like without her things. I opened her wardrobe and found a box. I opened it and saw a ring. I completely freaked out and ran to tell my friend. My friend immediately told him. So he went and hid it somewhere else. But I’d already seen it and had an idea he was about to pop the question.

Adeoye: She is extremely nosy. I cannot stress this enough. Planning a proposal while spending most of my time with this woman was the most stressful experience of my life. I couldn’t text anyone without her asking what I was laughing at. I had to coordinate everything through her friends because the moment I was on my phone for too long, she would start asking questions.

Screaming. So how did the actual proposal go?

Adeoye: I saw a post about a hot air balloon experience at Heineken on Instagram, and I just imagined how special it would be to ask her out thousands of feet in the air. I reached out, sorted everything out, and had it on lock. 

On the morning of the proposal, I woke her up at 5 a.m. I’d already made sure her nails and her hair had been done earlier that week. I bought a plain white t-shirt and plain jeans because I wanted her to be the one everyone noticed, not me. Her friends handled all the coordination with the venue, so I didn’t have to be on my phone around her. 

Adebola: I genuinely had no idea what was happening. Even after finding the ring two months earlier, I had convinced myself he was just trying to throw me off. He made me do a full face of makeup at five in the morning for what he said was a content job. I wasn’t happy about it. When we got to the venue, everyone was being unusually nice to me. The engineer on site was smiling at me, and I couldn’t work out why. They put a mic on Adeoye, and I assumed it was for content. Then we went up, we were a hundred feet in the air in this wobbling balloon, and he turned to me and said there was something he wanted to tell me.

Adeoye: I couldn’t kneel. We were in a balloon. It was wobbling. I just reached behind my back and brought out the ring.

Adebola: I was completely caught off guard, even though I’d seen the ring. All the preparation I thought I had done meant nothing in that moment. When we came back down, and I turned around and saw all my girlfriends walking towards me, I burst into tears. That was the part that got me the most. He had thought about everything.

Awwwn. Congratulations, guys. What’s the best thing about being with each other?

Adeoye: Life is just easier with her in it. All the hard years, the music camps with no real food, the months with no income, the stretch where we were not going on dates. I don’t know how I would have moved through any of that without Adebola genuinely rooting for me. 

Adebola: Being with Adeoye has made me more ambitious, more open, more generous, more myself. I can tell him literally anything that comes to mind, no matter how random, and he will sit with me and talk about it for hours. I have never had that before.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your love life?

Adeoye: You cannot put a number on something like this. But if you are forcing me to choose, it is a 10. There’s nothing I would change.

Adebola: 10. This is the best relationship I have ever been in, and I am genuinely excited about everything that comes next. The wedding, the marriage, all of it. No notes.

If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this .

If you’ve enjoyed reading Love Life, our flagship series on love, heartbreak, and relationships, we have exciting news. We’ve partnered with Cassava Republic to publish a book based on the flagship. Coming January 2026, it’s about to be your favourite book.

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Fiora Gardens

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Rapa Nui Lagos

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Nostalgia

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Kaly

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Oceans5

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Restaurant

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Slow

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Zayda

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Sora Lagos

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ALSO READ: 8 Clever Ways to Ask a Girl to Be Your Girlfriend

In this week’s Marriage Diaries, he talks about marrying a single mum, the boundaries he’s still struggling to accept and why, despite everything, patience has become the hardest part of his marriage.

Got a marriage story to share? Please  and we’ll reach out.

I thought marriage would feel like a romance movie

I was a proper lover boy growing up. I consumed every relationship story I could get my hands on. I was always reading romance novels or watching love stories. I remember being obsessed with soaps like “When You Are Mine” and “The Gardener’s Daughter”. Somewhere along the line, I convinced myself that my own marriage would look like that, too.

Obviously, I knew real life wouldn’t be perfect, but I genuinely believed I’d find my princess and we’d build this beautiful, romantic life together.

That mindset even shaped how I dated. Not to brag, but if you ask any of my exes, they’ll probably tell you I was one of the most romantic men they’d been with. I always believed love deserved effort.

So when I pictured marriage, I pictured a fairytale. Maybe not exactly like the movies, but close enough that I’d spend my life trying to recreate it.

I never imagined I’d marry a single mum

If there’s one thing that has surprised me the most about marriage, it’s my wife.

In every version of my future I imagined growing up, there wasn’t one where I married someone who already had a child or had been married before. But I guess that’s life. You never really know where love will find you.

We attended university together, then lost touch for almost five years before reconnecting. She was just as beautiful as I remembered, and everything happened naturally from there.

I’d seen her son before, but I never asked questions. I suspected he was hers, but I promised myself I’d wait until she was ready to tell me. She eventually did, about a year into our relationship.

By then, my feelings were already too deep for it to change anything. Ironically, accepting it myself turned out to be the easy part.

My family almost convinced me to walk away

The real doubts started when I introduced her to my family. My parents liked everything about her until my mum found out she already had a child. It was almost like someone flipped a switch. Suddenly, there were endless reasons why I shouldn’t continue. According to my mum, I deserved someone without any “history.”

If I’m being honest, a small part of me understood where she was coming from. Then, just as wedding preparations had begun, my wife’s son’s father suddenly returned from abroad after years away and wanted to be an active father again.

That complicated everything. I found myself wondering whether I was really ready for the kind of marriage I was walking into. It wasn’t just about marrying the woman I loved anymore. It also meant accepting that another man would always have a place in our lives because of their child.

In the end, love won because I chose her anyway.

Learning to share fatherhood has been my hardest lesson

Nobody prepared me for what it actually means to marry someone who already has a child.

My stepson lives with us, and I genuinely love him. Somewhere along the way, he stopped feeling like “my wife’s son” and simply became my son too. But loving him hasn’t removed the complicated parts.

His biological father still comes to our house to pick him up sometimes, and I’ve never been comfortable with that. Personally, I don’t think he should even know where we live.

The one time I raised it with my wife, it became a serious argument. Afterwards, I kept wondering whether I was being unreasonable or simply protecting my own peace.

The difficult thing is that I can’t exactly run to my parents for advice because they never supported the marriage in the first place. Sometimes it feels like I’m figuring everything out alone.

And if I’m honest, whenever I have to figure things out by myself, I usually end up choosing the option that makes everyone else comfortable except me.

My stepson’s birthday exposed everything we’d been avoiding

Last year, my stepson turned 10. My wife and I had agreed to organise a small celebration until his father stepped in and insisted on throwing a much bigger party.

The moment that happened, I quietly stepped back. I cancelled the plans I’d already made, bought my stepson a nice gift and some money, and decided I wouldn’t attend the party. My wife was disappointed but respected my decision.

She and my stepson left the day before the party and didn’t return until two days later. By the time they got home, I was angry. I said things I shouldn’t have said. I accused her of taking me for granted and told her that not every man would tolerate everything I’d tolerated.

Looking back, I regret saying those things in front of the child. I apologised later that day because no matter how frustrated I felt, he didn’t deserve to witness that.

Still, the conversation itself needed to happen. I’ve never asked my wife to stop her son’s father from being involved. In fact, people complain every day about absent fathers. If a father genuinely wants to show up for his child, that’s a good thing.

What I’ve struggled with is boundaries. We’re still figuring out what those should look like.

Marriage has taught me patience, even when I don’t feel patient

Marriage has definitely made me a more patient person. I wouldn’t describe my younger self as impatient, but these days I’m much more intentional about processing my emotions before reacting. It’s changed how I deal with people outside my home, too. Situations that would’ve gotten an immediate reaction from me years ago barely get one now.

One thing that hasn’t changed is my romantic side. I still enjoy making my wife feel special. Last Valentine’s Day, I planned a family trip to Ghana. Before we got back, I’d already arranged for a neighbour to receive a giant surprise package and leave it in our house. Watching her open it remains one of my favourite memories from our marriage.

Moments like that remind me why I fell in love with her in the first place. At the same time, I’d be lying if I said I don’t sometimes wonder whether marrying someone with an existing family was the right decision.

If I could advise my younger self today, I’d probably tell him not to go down that path, not because single mothers don’t deserve love, but because relationships like ours come with complications that many people underestimate.

Sometimes those old family ties blur boundaries, even when nobody intends for them to. Maybe I feel this way because my wife and I are still waiting for our own child together. I believe that chapter will change a lot for us.

Until then, I’m choosing to hold on to the part of me that has always believed in love, even when it turns out very differently from the fairytale I imagined growing up.

*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.

Got a marriage story to share? Please  and we’ll reach out.

Dayo* (29) and Tomisin* (27) met in 2022 when a mutual friend connected them. 

On this week’s Love Life, they talk about how a failed NYSC posting pushed them together, dealing with uneven efforts from one party, and how a phone screenshot almost ended it all.

What’s your earliest memory of each other?

Dayo: We met through a mutual friend in 2022. Our mutual friend referred Tomisin to me because I helped people sort out their NYSC postings. 

From her very first message to me, I could tell she was a warm, chatty person. She easily asked questions and made conversation, even though we had never spoken before. It threw me off because I was in professional mode and wasn’t expecting that energy. I actually had to call my mutual friend and ask her, “Does this girl know me from somewhere?” She said no, that’s just how Tomisin is with people. 

Tomisin: I couldn’t tell whether he was being professional or just rude. I was doing my best to be friendly and warm, and he was giving me these flat, one-word responses. Like he was just tolerating the conversation. I didn’t know what to do with that. 

I thought, “Okay, this person is not interested in small talk.”

So I pulled back and just focused on the business at hand. But it was confusing because I’d heard good things about him from our mutual friend, and the energy did not match.

Screaming. But how did the posting conversation go?

Dayo: It was a disaster, which had never happened to me before. My plug failed, and Tomisin was sent to Edo for camp. She’d been specific about wanting Lagos, and I gave her my word because I always had a 95% success rate. 

Tomisin: I was devastated. I cried and sent him a heated voice note. My mum was also upset, and she sent him a voice note when he didn’t pick up our calls. It was a whole thing because this was not what we agreed on. He had assured me that everything was taken care of, and that I’d be serving in Lagos like I wanted.

Dayo: This was the first time my plug had failed me. I didn’t even know what to do, and her mum’s voice note made it worse. She wasn’t even angry. She just sounded really hurt, like I’d intentionally put her daughter in harm’s way. 

I explained that I would get her redeployed after camp, but she was already in tears. So I went to her house to meet her and her parents in person. I sat down with them, apologised properly, and promised that the redeployment would happen. Then, on the day she was leaving for camp, I followed her all the way to the park. And before she boarded, I gave her ₦20k. 

Oh. Why did you do that?

Dayo: I just felt bad. It wasn’t her fault, and she was going somewhere she hadn’t planned to go. I wanted her to at least have something in her pocket.

Tomisin: That gesture really got me. And while I was in camp, he kept checking on me and even sent more money. That was when I started seeing a different side of him. The professional, dry-response guy was gone, and there was actually a very caring person underneath.

What happened after camp? 

Dayo: I got her redeployed to Lagos as I promised, and I lowkey thought that would be the end of our interaction. But I found myself texting her and checking on her even after everything was resolved. She was struggling with her PPA placement, so I helped with that, too. And before I knew it, we had built a friendship. I always had one reason to text or call her. 

Tomisin: It was so funny how he went from this “one-word texter” to constantly being in my DMs. We talked almost every day. And what stood out was that he actually paid attention. If I mentioned in passing that something was bothering me, he would come back to it later and ask how it was going. 

Most people let things like that slide, but not Dayo. I don’t think I’ve met anyone as attentive as him. 

Nice. So at what point did you realise you liked each other?

Dayo: It was gradual on my end. I started noticing I was going out of my way to reach out to her even when I didn’t have a reason. I was just looking for excuses to talk to her. But even then, I still wasn’t sure what the feeling was.

Then, one day, during a conversation with our mutual friend, she mentioned that we’d actually make a cute couple. I think that was the first time I pictured us together and I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind. I knew she was single, so I felt it was a done deal in a way. 

Tomisin: I actually wasn’t trying to date anyone. I had relocation plans, and I didn’t want to get into something that was going to turn into a long-distance relationship. So even though I was starting to like him, I wasn’t going to make any moves. I just let things be.

So who made the move?

Dayo: I did. I asked her out in February 2023. 

Tomisin: I said yes. By that point, I had decided to go with what felt right rather than overthink the relocation thing. He was good to me, and I liked him. So it was a very easy yes. 

What were the early days of the relationship like?

Tomisin: Not the best period of my life. I didn’t have a job at the time. My plans to relocate weren’t going the way I wanted. Things were generally not looking up, and I was in a low mood for a lot of that period. Dayo was trying his best; he was very generous and showed up in ways I genuinely didn’t expect. I really appreciated that, but I was just unhappy. It had nothing to do with him.

Dayo: I couldn’t stand seeing her sad. I’d tried to pull some plug for a job, but it didn’t work. A part of me felt really frustrated because we were supposed to be in the honeymoon phase of our relationship, but Tomisin was constantly sad and worried. 

At some point, beyond offering words of encouragement and trying to speak on her behalf, I felt I needed to do something about her situation. So I put her on a monthly allowance. I also took her out regularly, making sure she had what she needed for day-to-day life.

My NYSC hustle was going well at that time, and I had forex income on top of it, so I was comfortable enough to do it without feeling the strain. 

I even had the idea at one point of opening a small breakfast cafe and setting Tomisin up to manage it. That one didn’t work out in the end, but I was thinking about how to set her up properly. 

But then, things slowed down for me financially in 2024. And that was tough.

I’m sorry. What happened, though?

Dayo: My NYSC plug passed away. So that whole side of my income just stopped. And the forex trading had become slow, too. So the money wasn’t coming like it used to. Luckily, around that same time, Tomisin had started picking up freelancing and was earning well. So I felt relieved that she wouldn’t feel the bite after I stopped her monthly allowance. 

But that’s when I also started noticing something about her.

What did you notice?

Dayo: That she is stingy. Not frugal, actually stingy. Before, I’d always assumed she was disciplined about saving and careful about spending. I respected that. But when I was the one who needed something, I saw what it actually was. I would ask her for as little as ₦10 or ₦20k, and she would look me in the eye and tell me she didn’t have it. I knew she was lying. 

Sometimes she would give it, but then she would make sure she collected every kobo back. It was strange to me. My girlfriend, whom I’d done a lot for when she wasn’t in a position to do for herself.

Tomisin: I prefer to say I am frugal. I have always been careful about money. I don’t believe in giving it away just because someone asks, unless it is a genuine emergency. That’s how I was raised and how I operate. Dayo is not the first person in my life to call me stingy. I’ve heard it from people who know me. It doesn’t offend me because I know my intention is to be responsible with what I have.

But doesn’t that bother you? That your partner calls you stingy?

Tomisin: Not really. I’ve heard it many times. I know who I am with money, and I’m not going to pretend. But I also want to push back on some of what Dayo says. Not everything he calls stinginess is stinginess. Sometimes I genuinely don’t have money to give, even if there’s a number sitting in my account. Money can be allocated; it can be tied to something; it might not even be entirely mine. He doesn’t always consider that. Once he believes that I have money, he expects me to splurge or readily give when he asks.

Dayo: I hear that. But when you’ve been with someone, and you’ve done as much as I did for her during the period she was struggling, and then when the tables turn, they’re lying to your face about ₦20k, that goes beyond being frugal. 

Did you ever bring up these concerns with her?

Dayo: I did. I sat her down and called her stingy to her face, and like she said, she didn’t flinch. She basically just said, ” Yes, I know I’m like that.” 

That response shocked me because I came prepared for a real conversation, and she just responded as though it was old news.

Tomisin: I also want to say something else about this. I sometimes genuinely question how broke Dayo actually is when he says he is broke. He’d say he doesn’t have money, and then the next minute he’s suggesting a date or doing something that costs money. So it’s hard for me to know when to take the complaints seriously and when it’s just a habit of speech. I’m not saying he doesn’t have moments of need. But the signals are often confusing, which affects how I respond.

Dayo: That’s because I know how to manage. I still want to make it a good time for us, even when things are tight. That doesn’t mean I’m not genuinely struggling.

So, did you guys ever land on a fix?

Dayo: Not really, it got to a tipping point around March. My car broke down and needed serious repairs. I was looking at about ₦500k, which I didn’t have at the time. So I went to Tomisin and asked if she could l loan me. She said she didn’t have the money. I knew from how she said it that she was lying. I found a way to get into her phone, looked at her account balance, took a screenshot of it and sent it directly to her.

Tomisin: That was a serious violation of my privacy. He went through my phone without my permission, then took screenshots of my bank details and sent them to me like it was a normal thing to do. I don’t care what his reason was or how frustrated he was. That’s not okay. You don’t go through your partner’s phone, and you definitely don’t screenshot their financial information and use it against them in an argument.

Dayo: I wasn’t trying to invade her privacy for no reason. I was tired of being lied to. If she had just said, I have the money, but I can’t loanit right now, I would have accepted that. I wouldn’t have liked it, but I would have accepted it. What I couldn’t accept was being looked in the face and told she didn’t have money when I knew she did. I needed her to stop lying to me.

How did you guys resolve this?

Dayo: We stopped speaking for about two months. No calls or texts, nothing. I think that’s the longest we have gone without speaking since we got together. It was bad. I was angry and missed her terribly, but I wasn’t going to reach out. Then she did in May.

Tomisin: I apologised; not for everything, because I still believe he shouldn’t have gone through my phone. But I apologised for my role in how things escalated. I didn’t want to lose what we had over a fight about money.

Dayo: But it still hasn’t been properly resolved. I love her and I’m not going anywhere. I just need her to actually work on that aspect. Because it’s not even just with me. I watch her decline her siblings’ requests. She’ll say no to family members very pointedly. And that worries me a lot, especially with someone I plan to build a family with. 

Tomisin, is he right about the family part?

Tomisin: He isn’t entirely wrong. I’m the same way with money across the board. It’s not something I only do with Dayo. My siblings and friends have experienced it. I know it can read as cold or uncaring even when that’s not my intention. I am not someone who says no because I enjoy saying no. I say no because I have always felt strongly that money has to be treated seriously. But I also recognise that there is a version of being careful with money that crosses into cold-heartedness. I’m trying to do better. It’s a work in progress.

Dayo: It makes me think sometimes. Not about whether I love her, because I do. But I think about the bigger picture. Marriage, having children, and going through hard seasons. You can’t do any of that with a partner who disappears when things are tight. 

You mentioned trying to do better, Tomisin. What steps have you taken?

Tomisin: I now have a budget that I put aside for random requests. So it makes it easier for me to pull from that when anyone comes to me. Even if I can’t give them all they ask for, I’ll have something for them. With Dayo, I’m learning to do things a lot more in our relationship. I admit I’ve gotten used to having him play the sole provider role, but these days, I’m opening my purse a little more.

There are times I freak out, especially when I spend huge sums. For instance, we went to a fancy place for his birthday and spent ₦150k. I just kept drawing different scenarios in my head of how that money could have been better utilised. 

I think there’s a version of me that can give more freely. I just need to get there in my own way and at my own pace. It’s not something that changes overnight.

Fair enough. What’s the best thing about being with each other?

Dayo: Everything else, honestly. This money issue is real, and I am not trivialising it. But outside of that, Tomisin is genuinely one of the most enjoyable people I have spent time with. She is funny. She has a way of thinking about things that I find interesting. She went through a genuinely hard period when we first got together, and she didn’t collapse. She kept pushing. I respect that a lot. 

She makes me want to show up. Even when I have my own problems, I still want to make sure she’s okay. That’s not something I’ve felt with everyone. 

Tomisin: He’s one of the most caring people I’ve ever met in my life. I know I frustrate him with the money issue, and I know it has caused real damage between us. But I also know that what he has brought to this relationship is something I don’t take for granted.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your love life?

Dayo: 7. We’re a work in progress, and I think we’ve both been intentional about keeping the relationship going. We might get to a 10 before the end of the year

Tomisin: 7 also. We’re still figuring each other out. But the foundation is solid and we’ll be fine.

If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this .

If you’ve enjoyed reading Love Life, our flagship series on love, heartbreak, and relationships, we have exciting news. We’ve partnered with Cassava Republic to publish a book based on the flagship. Coming January 2026, it’s about to be your favourite book.

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She explains why blocking her boyfriend has become her preferred conflict-resolution strategy and why she has no plans to stop.

This is Aramide’s explanation, as shared with Adeyinka

People think blocking your partner is childish or manipulative. Maybe it is for some people. For me, it’s self-preservation.

I’ve blocked my boyfriend more than once, and if we have another fight where I feel overwhelmed, I’ll probably do it again.

The funny thing is that I actually love him. If I didn’t, we’d have broken up a long time ago. He’s caring, thoughtful and always shows up when I need him. That’s why we’ve managed to stay together despite everything. The problem is that when this man gets angry, it’s like someone flips a switch.

He knows exactly what to say to hurt me. It’s almost like he starts looking for the most painful thing he can type just because he knows it’ll get a reaction. I used to stay there and argue back because I wanted to defend myself. Every single time, it ended with both of us saying things we couldn’t take back.

After a while, I realised I didn’t like the version of myself those arguments brought out.

About two months ago, we had another fight. My sisters and I had planned to attend an overnight party. We’d been talking about it for weeks, and I wasn’t about to cancel because my boyfriend suddenly decided he didn’t want me to go.

I love my boyfriend, but I won’t choose him over my siblings. They’ve been in my life long before he came around, and I wasn’t going to disappoint them over an argument.

Before leaving, I’d already hidden my WhatsApp Status from him because I knew he’d complain if I posted anything. I also stayed off Instagram. I honestly thought that was enough. Then a mutual friend uploaded a Snapchat video from the party. That’s how he found out I’d gone.

Almost immediately, the messages started pouring in. He wasn’t asking questions or trying to understand why I went. He went straight into attack mode, accusing me of disrespecting him and saying the kind of things he always says when he’s angry.

The moment I saw where the conversation was heading, I blocked him on WhatsApp.

I knew exactly what would’ve happened if I stayed. He would’ve kept sending hurtful messages, I’d eventually reply with something equally hurtful, and we’d spend days trying to recover from words we didn’t really mean.

Instead, I removed myself completely. This time, I left him blocked for four days.

Apparently, he tried reaching me through my sister, but I told her not to get involved. I wasn’t interested in having the conversation until both of us had calmed down.

On the fifth day, I unblocked him and sent him a simple message to let him know. He was still upset, but he actually communicated. No insults or trying to destroy me with words. We finally had the kind of civil conversation we should’ve had from the beginning.

That experience reminded me why blocking works for me. It’s always about protecting my peace.

I know myself. If someone keeps provoking me long enough, I’ll eventually say something I regret. I’d rather block you, cool off and come back when I can think clearly than stay in a conversation that’s becoming toxic.

Maybe one day we’ll both become emotionally mature enough not to need that block button. Until then, I’ll keep using it.

The funny thing is that he’s never blocked me before. He mustn’t even try it. I know myself well enough to admit I’d probably lose my mind. Maybe that makes me a hypocrite, but at least I’m a self-aware one.

 *Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.

In this story, they share how a creative partnership turned them into one of Instagram’s favourite “couples”, and how the unexpected fame strengthened their friendship instead.

This is Colette and Ekene’s story, as told to Adeyinka

Colette: We met at the gym in 2025. I walked up to Ekene and asked, “Hi, are you a model?”

It sounded like a pick-up line, but I genuinely needed a model for a Valentine’s Day shoot.

The truth is, I took one look at him and thought he’d be perfect for it. He also had a very calm demeanour. It felt like my spirit just connected with him. 

Ekene: In my head, I was thinking, Is this how women flirt these days?

But I agreed to the shoot anyway. We exchanged Instagram handles and started chatting regularly.

When the Valentine’s shoot was posted weeks later, my DMs exploded. People immediately assumed we were dating.

My closest friends were asking how I’d managed to keep an entire relationship secret.

Colette: Even when I insisted we weren’t together, nobody believed me. They were convinced we were just trying to keep things private.

The funny part is that the Valentine’s shoot was only the second time we’d ever seen each other. If people looked closely at the photos — especially Ekene’s poses — they’d realise we weren’t even that comfortable around each other yet.

Ekene: Then, a few months later, the wedding shoot happened.

Colette: His friend was supposed to be the model, but we only had time for fittings on the day of the shoot. That’s when we realised the clothes wouldn’t fit.

His friend immediately said, “Call Ekene. It’s his size.”

I wasn’t even sure he’d be interested, but when I asked, his response was: “Ask and you shall receive.”

Ekene: To be fair, the outfit was fire.

Colette: If people thought we were dating after the Valentine’s shoot, the wedding shoot completely finished us. People who knew me personally started congratulating me.

I remember starting a new job, and one of my coworkers looked at me and said, “Wait, aren’t you the last-born bride?”

The conversation quickly turned to my supposed husband. I had to explain again that I wasn’t married.

Ekene: Even my pastor called to ask if I’d secretly gotten married.

I thought it was hilarious. We ended up on Tunde Ednut’s page, and even now, people stop us in random places when they realise we’re the couple from the viral wedding shoot.

Colette: The whole thing felt surreal. Everywhere I looked, I saw myself. My dad, who rarely comments on Instagram, was even somewhere in the comment section of a blog.

Ekene: Still, not all the attention was positive. Some people questioned why I kept taking those kinds of pictures with Colette. Others thought I shouldn’t be entertaining it at all.

But I didn’t really care. I was enjoying the recognition and everything that came with it.

Colette: At some point, though, we became intentional about correcting people. The photos and videos had travelled so far that it felt important to control the narrative.

People often assume men and women can’t just be friends, but that’s never been the case with us. We’re simply friends who created something people connected with.

Ekene: I actually have more female friends than male friends, and I can confidently say there’s no attachment. Friendship is friendship.

Colette: Ekene is sweet, reliable and genuinely caring. I find myself thanking him all the time. He’s one of those people I’m genuinely glad to have in my corner.

Ekene: I consider Colette one of my closest friends, even though we’ve only known each other for a little over a year.

I’m grateful for how much we’ve grown as friends and creators. If she calls me at 4 a.m. and says she’s stranded in another city, I’d get in my car and go get her without thinking twice.

Mira (26) and  Tom (30) connected on social media in 2015 but didn’t interact until 2023. 

On this week’s Love Life, they discuss why Mira’s escape plan backfired spectacularly, what it means to build a marriage across continents and cultures, and how faith has kept them together through everything.

If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this .

What’s your earliest memory of each other?

Tom: We met on social media in 2015. We’d been following each other for about four years on Instagram and Facebook but barely interacted. We just existed in each other’s feeds, occasionally reacting to each other’s stories and keeping it moving. 

Then, in 2023, I reacted to something she posted on her Facebook story — I can’t even remember what it was — and she responded. That’s when everything changed.

Mira: Tom’s account always seemed suspicious because he barely posted anything. I thought it was fake for years. Who has a profile with almost no posts?

At some point, he reacted to my Facebook story, and we started engaging with each other’s posts. Around the same time, though, I found out he was trying to talk to one of my friends, which I thought was weird. So I ignored him until he came around again in 2023. That’s when our story really began.

Right. Let’s talk about that first real interaction in 2023

Tom: It was just a normal conversation.

Mira: Was it normal, though? 

When he reached out again, a part of me felt like, “oh, this fake account guy”. I wasn’t actively looking for a relationship, but I was open to possibilities. 

I assumed he was in my DMs to flirt so I replied to see where the conversation would go.  It was so random, but he started talking about African products. He was telling me how much he loved African black soap, shea butter and cocoa butter. Most people don’t care about those things the way he did. I remember thinking, “What exactly is this guy talking about?”

 To make sure he was real, I asked him to send me a video. Once he did, I realised he wasn’t a catfish. But I was still confused about why he cared so much about African products.

Tom: I’ve had a deep interest in African culture since I was young. I remember telling my classmates in Europe that I’d marry an African. They laughed because there weren’t any Africans where I lived, but it was something I genuinely wanted. So finding out Mira was African felt like a real connection point for me. Like the universe was saying, “Yes, this is what you’ve been looking for.”

Nice. How did your relationship progress after that first conversation?

Tom: We actually stopped talking for a while and went back to liking each other’s pictures on social media. Then I travelled to Asia for a modelling job, and for some reason, I couldn’t get Mira out of my mind. So I reached out again. That’s when we started having video calls and really getting to know each other. 

Mira: We talked for about three consecutive months as friends, and it felt like we’d never stopped talking at all. It was odd because we’d followed each other for years without talking, and then we suddenly couldn’t stop. 

Tom is a model, so travelling is a huge part of his life. His work also helped him secure a modelling contract in the Philippines, where I lived at the time. So we made plans for him to visit.

Curious, Mira. You mentioned you weren’t exactly in the headspace for something new. What changed with Tom?

Mira: I saw his pictures and thought, “Okay, he’s cute.” But beyond that, he was calm and easy to talk to.

One thing that stood out was how present he was; he replied to messages in record time. I was used to guys taking hours to respond to “maintain” some kind of steeze. But that wasn’t Tom. He responded as soon as my messages came in, and I liked that. Before I knew it, I’d gone from not being interested in a relationship to wanting to see where things could go between us.

Makes sense. What was it like finally meeting in person?

Top: That was one hilarious moment. I arrived in the Philippines and went straight to the apartment my modelling agency provided. Later, Mira came to see me on her motorbike. The first thing I noticed was how shy she was. She looked like she wanted to turn around and go home.

Mira: I was incredibly nervous and shy. The funny thing is that he didn’t help matters. He seemed just as panicked, which made me wonder if he wasn’t happy to see me or if I wasn’t what he’d expected.  I was ready to turn around and leave. But I reminded myself that we’d spent three months talking almost every day. No matter how awkward the moment felt, he was still the same person I’d been speaking to. So I stayed.

Looking back, I think we were both dealing with first-meeting nerves. Once we got past that, everything felt comfortable again. It was like we’d known each other for much longer than three months.

Tom: After our first meeting, we started going on dates and spending more time together. Mira stayed with me while I completed my three-month modelling contract in the Philippines.

We’d already grown so comfortable with each other online that being together in person made everything feel more real. We eventually started dating because it felt natural and right.

Wait, when did you ask her out?

Mira: There wasn’t a formal “Will you be my girlfriend?” moment. We just found ourselves inside a relationship. With Tom, I could be completely myself. He loved me exactly as I was, which meant a lot to me as a Nigerian who grew up in an Asian country. I know how difficult dating can be when you’re constantly navigating stereotypes and assumptions. Even when I dated other Nigerians, I didn’t always feel as secure as I did with Tom.

I never felt like I had to second-guess who I was around him, and my feelings naturally grew deeper because of that.

Still, I had to ask questions at some point. Like, “What we have is great, but what are we?” And he was like, “We’re together. We’re in a relationship.” 

That was towards the end of 2023.

Fair enough. So what happened after you completed your contract, Tom?

Tom: I had to leave the Philippines, which meant we were thrown into a long distance relationship for a year.

It wasn’t easy, but we stayed consistent. We video-called every day, spent hours talking and remained present in each other’s lives despite the distance.

Mira: We actually had a conversation in the park before he left. He was completely honest with me. He said he didn’t know what the future would look like. He wasn’t from my country, and he was constantly moving around for his modelling career. He couldn’t promise how things would work long-term.

I was sad because I knew how hard long distance could be. But I trusted God. I believed that if what we had was genuine and real, it would work out regardless of the distance.

So when did you reunite? 

Tom: A year later.  I returned to the Philippines, and  I came back knowing I wanted to marry her.

Mira: I’d always made it clear that I wanted to date with marriage in mind. I didn’t want to invest years in anything that wasn’t going anywhere. Still, I didn’t expect things to move that quickly.

When he told me he believed I was the right person for him and wanted us to get married, I was shocked. But I said yes immediately. I didn’t need to talk to anyone. I just knew. We’d communicated so much and spent so much time together, even across distance.

What inspired this decision, Tom? 

Tom: Long distance was incredibly hard. There were temptations, loneliness, moments of doubt and darkness. But our faith kept us together. We called each other every day. We prayed and studied the bible together. We spent a lot of time talking about our beliefs. That spiritual foundation became our anchor. When I came back and saw her, I knew it was time to commit fully. It was time to marry her. 

Mira: Faith played a huge role for me, too. I grew up in a very Christian family, and my parents showed me what faith looked like in practice. As our relationship progressed, I saw Tom become more intentional about his relationship with God. His growth made me feel secure about our future.

I knew that even with the distance and all the challenges we faced, God was with us. That was one of the major reasons I said yes to marrying him.

When did you get married?

Mira: December 2024. My parents were surprised that I was marrying someone who wasn’t Nigerian, but they never opposed the relationship.

They also saw how intentional Tom was. He called constantly, stayed involved in my life and always showed up for me. They could see he was serious about me. The long distance didn’t worry them because they saw his commitment was genuine.

Tom: My parents were separated at that time, so the wedding logistics were complicated. But we had them on a video call during the ceremony. 

The wedding itself was beautiful. I had to wear traditional Nigerian attire and do the traditional Nigerian wedding dances and customs. Her family made me go down on the floor and say all sorts of things in Yoruba. It was all new for me and I was nervous about it. But it was fun. I enjoyed it. I loved wearing the outfit and experiencing her culture directly. It was one of the best days of my life.

What were the early days of marriage like?

Tom: Everything was fine at first, but we quickly realised marriage was different from dating. 

Mira: The first year particularly wasn’t easy, and it had nothing to do with our marriage. We didn’t have issues transitioning to living together or adjusting to each other, but I had some unexpected health issues that made it hard for me to be present the way I wanted.

Beyond that, there were huge practical challenges. Long distance is great when you’re dating, but when you’re married, you’re suddenly thinking about where to settle, how to build a life together, nd where to have kids. 

His job requires constant travel. If he stops, he has to start over in a completely new field. And as an interracial couple, finding a place to settle with all the immigration paperwork and requirements is complicated. Instead of enjoying a honeymoon phase, we spent a lot of time figuring out logistics. 

Tom: The good thing is that those challenges never affected our marriage itself.  We never got to a point where the external challenges affected our love or made us want to leave. We kept communicating, praying and working through things together. And things got better over time. We stopped fighting our circumstances and accepted that long distance, travel and cultural differences would always be part of our story.

What were some specific challenges you had to work through?

Mira: The biggest challenge was figuring out where to build our life. We both didn’t grow up in one place. Tom left Europe when he was 18 to model. I grew up in the Philippines, not Nigeria. So we didn’t have a home country to return to together. That was complicated.

Finding a place where we could legally settle with all the paperwork was hard. Eventually, we chose Europe because my passport is stronger. But that meant both of us had to adjust to a new culture.

We also had differences in how we organise things. Tom is extremely organised. He obsesses about where everything is placed. If something is missing, even something as small as a pair of socks, he needs to know exactly where it is. I’m the complete opposite. I just throw my things anywhere. If I can’t find a pair of socks, I’ll just buy another one. Why stress about a pair when I can just get new ones? For him, that’s torture. He would obsess about finding that specific pair of socks. We argued about that a lot in the beginning. 

But here’s the thing that really got me. I thought I married outside of Nigerian culture to escape certain expectations. Then I found out he wants me to cook African food more than any Nigerian guy probably would want.

Tom: Yes, I really love African food. I grew up dreaming about African culture, about marrying an African woman, and experiencing African traditions. Now that I’m married to Mira, I want to experience all of it, including the food. I want her to cook jollof rice, fufu, and all these traditional meals. But I’m also learning to cook some of it myself. Her mum also helps out a lot.

Mira: I was so frustrated because I grew up in the Philippines. I’m not the best cook when it comes to African food. I don’t even eat some of these meals because I don’t know how to cook them properly. I remember thinking, ” Oh, wow, I thought I escaped the matrix”. But here I am, married to a white European guy who wants jollof rice and fufu more than I do. It was ironic. 

Screaming. 

Mira: I think it’s all about making compromises. My mum cooks real African food for him. Sometimes we go to African restaurants.  Sometimes he gets to eat at my aunt’s house. And I’ve learned to cook some simple things. We figured it out.

Speaking of Tom’s job, did you ever struggle with jealousy or insecurity, Mira?

Mira: Absolutely. During the long-distance stage, it was hard not to overthink. The modelling industry is full of beautiful women, and I sometimes wondered whether he’d eventually find someone better. I remember him casually mentioning that one of his colleagues was pretty, and I spent far too much time thinking about it afterwards. But Tom is very honest. He doesn’t talk about other women in a way that makes me uncomfortable. And I realised that I’m also beautiful. 

Plus, I know him. If he wanted to be with someone else, he would just tell me directly. He would never cheat. He’s not wired that way. Once I realised that, I stopped overthinking. I trusted him, and it’s worked out.

Sweet. What’s the best thing about being with each other?

Tom: For me, it’s finding someone I can talk to about everything. Mira’s not only my partner; she’s also my best friend. We know everything about each other. There are no secrets or walls between us. And I love that about her. I love that about us.

Mira: Tom is present. Even during our year of long distance, he was always there for me. He’s loyal, honest and vulnerable. He’s not afraid to show his emotions or be strong when I need him. I love that balance. And the best part is that we’re helping each other become better versions of ourselves. We’re growing together spiritually, emotionally, in every way.

By December, our marriage will be two years. And we have some big news that we’re excited to share. 

Oh?

I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby soon. I feel like God made him to be my partner in this life.

Congratulations, guys. Excited for you. On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your love life?

Mira: Definitely an 11. We’ve survived almost two years of marriage. We navigated a long-distance relationship for a year. We overcame unexpected health challenges. Everything we thought would break us, we got through it with God. 

His constant travelling is still a challenge sometimes. But right now, we’re in such a good place. We’re really happy.

Tom: For me, it’s also an 11. Maybe even higher. I believe that everything, the good and the bad, is bringing us closer together and strengthening our relationship. 

I couldn’t ask for more.

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In this week’s Marriage Diaries, she talks about overcoming the fear of public judgment, learning to let someone take care of her, and why she’s convinced her unconventional love story happened exactly when it was meant to.

Got a marriage story to share? Please  and we’ll reach out.

I stopped believing marriage was part of my story

I always assumed my marriage would look a lot like my parents’.

They moved to Lagos together in the late 1970s and built their lives from almost nothing. It was just the two of them figuring things out, raising seven children and creating a home together. They were my biggest example of what marriage should be. I imagined that one day, I’d have my own version of that life: a husband, children and a family protected from the chaos of the outside world.

But life quickly taught me that everyone has a different path. 

I got pregnant in my early 20s, and the father of my child disappeared. That experience changed the way I viewed relationships. Suddenly, I wasn’t imagining a husband and children anymore. I was just trying to survive and raise my child.

Years later, I entered another serious relationship. We even had a family introduction after I got pregnant, and for a moment, it looked like marriage would finally happen. But by the time our child turned two, that relationship had also ended.

After that, I was done. I focused on my children and my business. I stopped entertaining men. In fact, the few men who approached me only reinforced my decision, as many seemed more interested in what I had built than in who I was.

My mother worried constantly. She moved from one pastor to another, praying that I’d eventually marry. I kept telling her to leave me alone. I was comfortable. My business was doing well. My children were doing well. I genuinely believed I didn’t need a man.

So if you’d told me ten years ago that I’d eventually get married, I would’ve laughed in your face.

Becoming a wife at 50 was the last thing I expected

The biggest surprise in my marriage is that I’m married at all.

After spending nearly two decades single, marriage simply stopped being part of my plans. I’d built a life that worked for me. I wasn’t searching or praying for a husband. But he found his way to me.

We’d known each other casually for years because we’re in the same line of business, but I never saw him romantically. Around late 2023, we had a business transaction together that changed everything.

Someone defrauded me. The amount wasn’t even up to a million naira, and I was willing to let it go to avoid unnecessary stress. But he refused to let it go. He made several attempts to recover the money, and when none of them worked, he sent me the full amount out of his own pocket. I was shocked.

He felt responsible because he introduced me to the man who scammed me. That gesture made me see him differently.

We started talking more often, and eventually he made his intentions clear. Then came the part that almost ended the relationship before it started; he already had two wives.

The moment I heard that, I stepped back. I’d spent years avoiding relationship drama. Why would I voluntarily enter a polygamous marriage? But he remained patient and persistent.

The funny thing is that the people I expected to oppose it didn’t. My parents supported me. Some of my closest friends encouraged me. Even my children were more open-minded than I expected.

Yet, I struggled to accept him in those early days. I worried constantly about what people would say. I imagined people mocking me for finally getting married at 50 only to become somebody’s third wife. That fear stayed with me for a long time.

Accepting a polygamous marriage forced me to confront my fears

When my husband first proposed, I kept delaying the conversation. I liked and respected him. But becoming a third wife was difficult for me to accept. I kept asking myself whether I was making a mistake.

I spent many months overthinking everything. My children were a major consideration. They’d grown up in a stable environment, and I didn’t want to introduce unnecessary complications into their lives. Before making my final decision, I spoke to them and listened carefully to their concerns. 

The more time passed, the more I observed him and how he treated his two wives. I saw a man who genuinely cared for his family and was intentional about showing up for the people he loved. Most importantly, I experienced that same care myself.

Eventually, I realised I was allowing fear of public opinion to dictate a deeply personal decision. As my 50th birthday approached, he suggested we turn the celebration into something bigger. That was when I finally said yes.

Today, each wife has her own home and space. There’s no competition. There’s no reason for us to be in one another’s business.

It’s not the life I imagined for myself when I was younger, but it’s the life I’ve been given, and I’ve made peace with that.

Marriage taught me how to stop doing everything alone

One thing nobody prepared me for was learning how to be cared for. For most of my adult life, I did everything myself.

I raised my children largely on my own. I built my business. I bought my own property. I solved my own problems. In a way, independence was my survival mechanism.

So when I got married, I carried that same mindset into the relationship. If something in my house needed fixing, I’d call someone. If I needed money for a project, I’d sort it out myself. If there was a problem, I’d handle it.

But my husband hated it. Not because he wanted control, but because helping people is one way he expresses love. Every time I handled something without involving him, he felt shut out.

At first, I couldn’t understand why it mattered so much. Then I realised that by refusing help, I was denying him the opportunity to care for me. Learning that has been one of the biggest adjustments in my marriage.

Today, he insists on sending me a monthly allowance. He changed my car last year. He’s currently helping me supervise the construction of another property.

The truth is, I can do these things myself. But I’m learning that marriage sometimes means allowing your partner to show up for you, even when you don’t technically need the help.

My biggest fights happen when I forget I have a partner now

One recurring issue in our marriage is money, but not in the way people might expect. I’m still used to operating like a single woman.

A recent example involved my first son’s travel process. I spent a significant amount of money sorting everything out and never mentioned it to my husband. To me, it wasn’t a big deal. They’re my children. I’ve always handled things for them.

Unfortunately, he eventually found out. He was upset, and we ended up arguing.

In the heat of the moment, I said things I shouldn’t have said. I talked about how I’d been taking care of myself and my children long before he arrived. I said I didn’t need anybody’s permission to support my children.

That wasn’t what I meant, but that’s how it came across. 

From his perspective, I was drawing a line between him and my children. I was essentially telling him he had no place in decisions involving them.

Once I calmed down, I understood why he was hurt. I apologised, and we’ve worked through it, but that experience taught me something important: being independent and being married aren’t always the same thing.

Sometimes, communication isn’t just about what you say. It’s about making sure the other person feels included.

I waited a long time for marriage, but I have no regrets

Marriage has softened me in ways I didn’t expect. For years, people described me as fiercely independent. My mother used to joke that I was a one-woman army. If something needed to be done, I did it myself.

Now, I’m learning to lean on someone else. It’s still uncomfortable sometimes. Trust doesn’t come easily to me because life has taught me that people can disappoint you. But little by little, I’m learning that not everyone will.

If I could go back and speak to my younger self, I wouldn’t tell her to change anything. I wouldn’t tell her to avoid the failed relationships or to make different choices.

Every disappointment and setback brought me to where I am today. I have children I’m proud of. I have a successful business. And now, after years of believing marriage wasn’t for me, I have a husband who genuinely cares for me.

So no, I don’t think I’d change anything.

*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.

Got a marriage story to share? Please  and we’ll reach out.

Mayowa (25) and Mfon (23) first met in high school in 2017 but didn’t reconnect until 2023 at church. 

On this week’s Love Life, they talk about how a health crisis brought them together, the vulnerable moments that solidified their commitment, and why they knew marriage was the plan from the very beginning.

If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this .

What’s your earliest memory of each other?

Mfon: It was 2017. I was in year 10, and my dad had just transferred me from my old boarding school to a day school. My new school  really far from home, so I had to take the school bus every single day. Starting senior school as the new kid was a bit intimidating and overwhelming. 

One day, a year 11 student sat next to me at the front of the bus. His name was Mayowa. We didn’t have long conversations on that ride, but I remember distinctly noticing how quiet and withdrawn he was. That’s my clearest earliest memory of him.

Mayowa: I didn’t notice Mfon much at first. I’d been at that school for a while and was more like an OG on the school bus. We shared the front seat because there weren’t many spots up in the bus, so we were forced to interact. And that was how we started talking. We’d have random conversations — just typical teenage stuff. We probably knew each other for about half a term, maybe six weeks total, before we both left that school. It was really just a brief moment in time.

That was in 2017. How did you guys reconnect?

Mayowa: Church. We hadn’t spoken for about six years, but I knew Mfon on X because she tweeted a lot. That’s how I found out that we attend the same church. One day, I sent a text saying I’d been seeing her posts but never spotted her at church. I suggested we link up because I really loved seeing people I know at church. The day she finally showed up, I introduced her to everyone and told them we had gone to secondary school together. 

Mfon: My memory of our reunion is a bit different. A mutual friend reposted his photo on IG, so I checked out his profile and followed him. Then a few months later,  the church text happened. 

We didn’t meet for a month after he texted. I’d been attending for over a year but hadn’t connected with anyone. I was walking toward the back when I heard people laughing. I turned around, and there he was, cracking everyone up. That surprised me.  I remembered him as quiet. 

He walked over, said hi, and introduced me to a bunch of people. That’s how I made my first friends in that church.

I’m guessing your friendship started that day. What happened next?

Mfon: He was in a relationship when we reunited, so we kept being friends. But then I fell ill and needed a blood transfusion. I dropped a message in a group chat we’re both in, saying I needed blood, and I included my mum’s contact.  I was shocked when he came to the clinic to donate blood for me. We weren’t even that close, but he showed up.

Mayowa: When I saw her message, I knew I had to go. She was family to me in church. Sadly, I wasn’t even able to donate, but I still went to check on her. 

About a week later, I called her phone to check on her, and her mum picked up. I was taken aback and asked about Mfon’s whereabouts, and she told me she’d relapsed and returned to the hospital. I rushed down immediately.

Mfon: It probably sounds weird, but I was so ashamed about relapsing. I didn’t want to tell my friends, including Mayowa. After he found out, he kept checking on me. I think that really solidified our friendship. We were constantly talking and texting each other. It became our daily routine.

Sounds sweet. Was this when you realised there were romantic feelings involved?

Mayowa: I can’t pinpoint an exact day or moment when I realised I had developed deeper feelings for her. For me, we didn’t plan anything; we kind of talked ourselves into it naturally.

I started to realise something was changing when it was becoming weird not to talk to Mfon every day. I’d also gotten out of my previous relationship, but I knew I had to be clear headed before getting into something new. 

I gave myself about six months before I even said anything about my feelings to Mfon. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a rebound or a mistake. I was also being really careful because I’d struggled with communication in past relationships, and I didn’t want to repeat those same patterns with her. 

Mfon: For me, it really came from an admiration point of view. I started observing and noticing so many incredible qualities about Mayowa that I hadn’t given much attention to; how thoughtfully he looked after his friends, how serious and intentional he was about his faith and his relationship with God. I began thinking about what the possibilities might be if we crossed the line from friendship into romance, but I wasn’t entirely certain or confident about it. I just knew that I had developed a soft spot for him and that he was becoming increasingly special to me. 

Then, one day, a few months into our friendship, he told me that he liked me. My exact response was, “I’m buying what you’re selling.” It was such a simple statement but it felt true and right in that moment. 

Around the same time, a close friend sat me down and said something eye-opening. She said, “Do you realise you talk about him literally all the time? Your daily plans and activities are completely synchronized with his. We can’t plan anything without consulting him.” 

That’s when everything clicked. She was absolutely right. I genuinely liked this guy more than a friend.

Mayowa, let’s talk more about confessing your feelings. How did that go?

Mayowa: I was on a trip when this conversation happened. I told her that I liked her and wanted to marry her. Not just casual dating, but getting married and building a life together. But I also laid bare my fears about entering into a relationship with her. 

I acknowledged that we’re really great friends, and I was genuinely scared of ruining our friendship if things didn’t work out. I also shared my struggles in past relationships, particularly with communication and vulnerability. I was honest about those weaknesses and told her how I was working to improve myself. I didn’t come in pretending to be perfect. I was transparent about where I was at.

Mfon: I didn’t take his words seriously at first because he was on a trip. I thought maybe he was just having a moment. But then he came back and asked for a proper conversation. He shared his concerns and fears openly, and I felt safe sharing mine in return. I told him that I needed to really know him on a deep level, not just for fun or surface-level companionship. I needed to truly understand what he stands for, his values, likes and dislikes, so I could predict his reactions and fully understand his personality. 

Now, I had this rule about not dating my close friends. I’d always said I couldn’t do it, especially with someone I saw regularly and felt close to. But then a pastor said something that really challenged that belief. He asked, ‘Those of you who say you won’t date your friends, is your enemy the person you want to marry?’ That comment stuck with me and made me reconsider my own rules. So I did a lot of soul-searching. I thought deeply about my future and what I actually wanted to have in it. I prayed about it extensively. And after all that reflection and prayer, I decided to give him a real chance.

When did you become official?

Mfon: He told me he liked me in September 2024. But we were in a talking stage until April 2025 because I had a personal standard of needing a long talking stage before becoming officially exclusive with someone. I always said I would never date anyone until I’d had substantial conversations with them for a full six months. If it took too long to wait, they were free to leave. But once we both understood clearly that we wanted to make the relationship work, it just made sense to take it to the next level and become official.

What were the early days of dating like?

Mfon: They weren’t much different from when we were in the talking stage. The transition felt seamless. We just kept talking constantly and being together. We literally did a 56-hour FaceTime call at one point. We were so immersed in talking to each other that we kept the call going and going. We’d fall asleep on the call, wake up, and continue the conversation without missing a beat. 

I’d be at work and ask my boss for a minute to talk to him. Even during meetings, I’d step out just to check in. By 10 p.m. every single night, no matter how exhausted he was from work, he would call. It became such an ingrained habit and routine for us.

Mayowa: It felt that way because we weren’t spending tons of physical time together. She was staying with her parents, and I was staying alone. We’d see each other at church and go on dates, but we got so used to talking every day that if we didn’t see each other’s face on FaceTime, it felt like we were arguing. Even now, I promise we just talk. It’s embedded in our system. I think talking like that really helped us become great friends, genuinely. We talked ourselves into affection. 

So Mayowa’s communication struggles from past relationships were non existent with you? 

Mfon: He turned out to be the extreme communicator. If something happens now, he wants to talk about it immediately. He’s always calling and messaging. He even jokes that he’s the caller in the relationship. I never experienced the things he said he struggled with. I think he just saw me and decided he was ready to be serious.

Mayowa: If something bothered me, I’d mention it right away. 

But there was one time we had a bigger misunderstanding and we couldn’t settle it on a call. 

We apologised and communicated like we used to, but it still didn’t feel settled. The next day was church, and when I saw her, I was wondering why I’d even been mad. I asked her if we could go out after service because I just wanted to be with her. Once we were together, the situation was resolved.

Sweet. At what point did you realise you wanted to spend the rest of your life together?

Mayowa: There was a moment, I can’t say exactly when, where I laid down my fears completely. I was completely unfiltered about where I was in life and where I was trying to get to. That day we didn’t say ”I love you.” We said, “I choose you.” That word felt deeper than love because it showed that in thick and thin, I’m choosing this person for life. 

When she said she chose me, something shifted in my head. I realised this was someone who fell in love with a basic version of me and chose me despite everything. That meant so much.

Mfon: It was the same moment for me. There was a time when I genuinely thought he was going to leave. We’d gotten into a little squabble, and I wasn’t 100% sure we were going to end up together; this was still during our talking stage. But he drove to my house in the middle of work and shattered my walls with his words. Later that night, he sent me text messages saying he never thought anybody would really love him if they knew the true him, and how thankful he was. That day we both knew we’d choose each other forever.

So after that moment, how did things move towards marriage?

Mayowa: I was ready for marriage from the moment I asked her out. The next step after dating was always going to be marriage. It was only a question of when.

I proposed in April, and it wasn’t a shock to her. It was just me officially asking her to be my fiancĂ©e and giving her the proposal of her dreams. I’d already planned the wedding venue and everything.

Mfon: After my last relationship in university, I made a rule that the next person I dated would be my husband. I spent years in other situations and talking stages, but nobody ticked my boxes. Then Mayowa came and hit every single one. I had my non-negotiables, and he just came in perfect. Five out of five on everything. Honestly didn’t think I would be surprised when he proposed, but I cried. I actually helped plan my friend’s birthday earlier, and I thought the proposal event was for that. But it was mine. I was shocked and just so happy. We’re getting married in June. 

Congratulations. Has wedding planning stressed you?

Mayowa: We’ve been able to work through it together. I’m very involved in the planning. If she’s tired, I take over. If someone is stressing her, I stress them back. If there are things that really matter to her, I prioritise them. We just make decisions together without fighting about colours or styles. If something matters to one of us, we do it.

Mfon: It’s been really easy because we’re doing it together. He’s very hands-on and takes a lot of the weight off my shoulders. The only stressful part was planning the female Aso-Ebi because I did that alone. But he’s always protecting the things I want. He makes sure to emphasise why the things I want are important and why they have to happen. This whole process has really helped us bond because we realise that prioritising each other over everyone else is what matters. If he doesn’t want something, it’s not happening.

What’s the best thing about being with each other?

Mfon: The best thing is the assurance of growth. I know that by the end of this year, I won’t be the same person. He reminds me of the things I said I would do. We have financial, spiritual, and career goals. Being with Mayowa is an assurance that you’ll grow in so many areas. And the growth isn’t one driven by tough love. I’ve felt loved while growing. I’ve never felt alone.

Mayowa: Honestly, the best thing is getting to spend the rest of my life with her. Before we started dating, one of my biggest goals was to move from being avoidant to being secure. She’s the most loving person I know. When someone loves you that much, it’s easy to love back.

I used to love my personal space, but when she’s not in that space, it doesn’t feel personal anymore. I want to spend every single day with her. That’s how much she means to me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your love life?

Mayowa: I’d rate it a 10, or even more. I don’t know what more I need. I’m extremely happy. The only greater love story I know than ours is the one of Jesus Christ on the cross. 

Mfon: Definitely a 10 and then some. Every time I think this is the best it can be, it just gets better. I know that by the end of this year, something will happen that makes me love him even more. 

If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this .

If you’ve enjoyed reading Love Life, our flagship series on love, heartbreak, and relationships, we have exciting news. We’ve partnered with Cassava Republic to publish a book based on the flagship. Coming January 2026, it’s about to be your favourite book.

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