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Married Nigerians Share How Having Children Changed Their Marriage

Betty Godson — Fri, 10 Jul 2026 13:03:03 +0000

In the third episode of �鶹��Ƶ’s 100 Nigerians: Anatomy of a Marriage, we asked married Nigerians to reflect on the different ways having children has reshaped their marriages.

From newlyweds who became parents almost immediately to couples who struggled to find their rhythm once they settled into their new roles as mummy and daddy, these stories unpack the joy, pressure and constant adjustments that come with raising children together.

**“Having children early affected us” — Precious*, 29**

I got pregnant two months after our wedding. Then our second and third children arrived in quick succession. Sometimes, I wish we’d had more time to enjoy being husband and wife before becoming parents.

Those first few years were difficult. Between pregnancies and raising young children, there was very little room for us as a couple. We argued more often, and there were moments when I felt completely overwhelmed and questioned whether I was ready for marriage at all.

Things improved once we settled into a routine and became intentional about protecting our relationship. These days, we leave the children with family occasionally and make time to reconnect.

“After two kids, our closeness disappeared” — Chika, 51

Before we had children, my husband and I were inseparable. We’d spend hours talking after work, wear matching outfits whenever we went out and look for every excuse to spend time together. When our daughter was born, it took us a while to settle into parenthood, but we still made time for each other. Then our son arrived.

He came a few weeks early and developed jaundice. Between caring for him and raising a toddler, our routine disappeared overnight. Before we knew it, the only things we talked about were school fees, nappies, nannies and feeding schedules.

For years, I’d sit right beside my husband and still miss him because it felt like we had stopped seeing each other. We didn’t get even a semblance of our old closeness back until both our children left for boarding school.

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“The pressure of providing almost ruined my marriage” — Ugo, 42

I always thought becoming a father would give me a sense of pride and legacy. Instead, it introduced me to a level of pressure I wasn’t prepared for. I became obsessed with providing the best life possible for my children. Without realising it, I focused so much on earning money that I stopped showing up emotionally at home.

My wife eventually told me she felt like she was carrying all the emotional labour by herself. That conversation changed me. I’ve had to make a conscious effort to slow down, be more present with my children and reconnect with my wife.

“My mum had to move in before I lost my mind” — Sola, 38

Nobody warned me how exhaustion could slowly change your personality. After I had our twins, sleep became a luxury. If one baby stopped crying, the other immediately started. My husband helped whenever he got home from work, but he was always exhausted after a long day, too.

At first, we worked as a team. Then the sleep deprivation caught up with us. Every small disagreement turned into a fight about who’d woken up last, who’d done more and who was more tired. It wasn’t really about the babies anymore. I just felt exhausted, unseen and deeply unappreciated.

I genuinely thought our marriage was falling apart. Everything changed when my mum moved in to help with the babies. Once I started sleeping properly again, I slowly felt like myself.

“Motherhood became my whole identity. I’m learning to love it” — Amina, 45

Motherhood has swallowed every part of who I used to be. Before I had children, I had routines, hobbies and a strong sense of independence. Then I became a mum, and suddenly everything revolved around my children.

I love them deeply, but sometimes I feel like I’ve disappeared in the process of raising them. My husband still had time for work, friends and hobbies, but my life became work, church and home.

These days, I’ve chosen to find purpose in motherhood. By God’s grace, I’ll become a grandmother someday too, and I hope I’ll find joy in that season as well.

“We were so exhausted, we stopped having sex” — Tolu, 32

After our son was born, our sex life changed completely. We went from having sex several times a week to once if we were lucky. It wasn’t because we loved each other any less; we were simply exhausted from our roles as parents.

There was always a crying baby, laundry, work or something else demanding our attention. By the end of the day, sleep felt far more appealing than sex.

At first, I worried something was wrong with our marriage. Then I spoke to a few other dads and realised how common it was when children get into the picture.

We’ve had to learn new ways to stay emotionally connected, especially now that physical intimacy isn’t as frequent as it used to be.

“I wasn’t prepared for what postpartum depression did to my wife” — Emeka, 48

My wife developed postpartum depression after our first child, and nothing prepared me for it. My mum kept saying it would pass, so I convinced myself things would eventually get better.

But they didn’t. My wife became withdrawn and emotionally distant, and I felt completely helpless. I was terrified she’d hurt herself and leave me to raise our baby alone. Eventually, I insisted we return to the hospital and also hired a nanny to support us. Thankfully, she gradually became herself again.

Looking back, I’ve never been more afraid during our marriage. That experience completely changed how I see marriage. It isn’t just about finding a helpmate. Sometimes, you’re the one who has to carry your partner until they’re strong enough to carry themselves again.

“Motherhood suddenly made everyone respect me” — Rukayat, 40

The biggest surprise after I became a mother was how differently people treated me. My parents, in-laws, neighbours, almost everyone suddenly spoke to me with a new level of respect. I was still quite young, but for the first time, I felt like a proper adult.

Thankfully, my daughter’s stubborn personality humbled me before I could let it get to my head. Sometimes I laugh when I think about it. It took over 18 hours of labour before everyone finally decided I deserved respect.

“Parenting exposed how differently we were raised” — Dekunle, 37

I never expected parenting to expose just how differently my wife and I were raised. We’ve constantly argued about discipline, routines and even bedtime.

What I considered normal correction, she thought was too harsh. What she called gentle parenting, I thought was spoiling.

We’ve had to unlearn a lot and intentionally decide what kind of parents we want to be, rather than simply repeating how we were raised. It hasn’t been easy, but it’s been fascinating to watch our child adapt to different methods as we figure it out together.

“Becoming a mum made me understand my parents” — Funmi, 39

Becoming a mother completely changed how I see my own parents. For the first time, I understood their sacrifices and frustrations because now there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my children. It also made me realise how complicated parenting really is. Every decision feels enormous. Which school should they attend? Where should we raise them? Are we making the right choices?

In the middle of all this, I’m constantly thinking about my husband. Imagine carrying all that while also feeling responsible for your entire family. Parenting has given me a new appreciation for him. It’s not easy, and honestly, it’s only by God’s grace that we’re doing our best.

“I felt guilty because I didn’t enjoy motherhood all the time” — Nkiru, 36

I love my child deeply, but there are days I miss my old life. I haven’t slept properly since I had my seven-year-old. Spontaneous plans have disappeared because I always have to think about who’ll look after my child.

In those early years, I felt like I wasn’t allowed to complain. Everyone expects mothers to be grateful all the time, but motherhood can also be exhausting and overwhelming.

When I finally opened up to other women, I realised I wasn’t alone. They were struggling too. That helped me breathe a little. At first, I even resented my husband because it seemed like parenting came more easily to him. Looking back now, I know I couldn’t have survived those years without him. If he hadn’t been there, I probably would’ve packed my bags and left my son with my mum.

“Having children made me love my husband even more” — Abosede, 39

Most people always talk about how children make marriage harder, but nobody talks about how much they can strengthen it, too. The newborn stage with our two children was incredibly hard. We were exhausted and irritable, and we barely had time for each other. But somewhere in that chaos, I started seeing sides of my husband I’d never seen before.

Watching him wake up at 3 a.m. to soothe a crying baby or patiently brush our son’s hair before school made me fall in love with him all over again. I loved him as my husband before, but now I admire him as a father too. I can’t deny that it has made our marriage stronger than it ever was when we just got married.

Navigating Crisis follows couples who hit a wall in their relationship and found their way back to other. Dropping July 17.

Here’s your next read: Married Nigerians on Staying After Their Partner Cheated

My Husband Died After Our Daughter’s Autism Diagnosis

Adeyinka Odutuyo — Fri, 10 Jul 2026 08:28:56 +0000

When Rasheedat’s daughter, Faizat, was diagnosed with autism at 11, she thought finally having answers would make the journey easier. Instead, just as she began learning how to support her child, she lost her husband. In this story, she shares what it’s been like raising an autistic daughter alone for over two decades, the discrimination they’ve faced and how that pain eventually became purpose.

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

Love Life: I Asked Her to Marry Me 100 Feet in the Air

Adeyinka Odutuyo — Thu, 09 Jul 2026 08:06:16 +0000

Adeoye (25) and Adebola (26) first connected on Twitter in May 2021 when he reacted to her photo.

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.

“I Also Collected The Soup I Made For Him” — Nigerian Women on Reclaiming Gifts After Breakups��

Mofiyinfoluwa Adeyemi — Wed, 08 Jul 2026 15:45:05 +0000

Gifting feels easy when you’re in love. But deciding who keeps the items when a relationship ends? Not so much.

We spoke to Nigerian women who refused to walk away empty-handed after their relationship ended. From AirPods to a pot of pepper soup, here’s what they took back.

**“He wanted his iPad back, so I took my PS5 too” — Ngozi*, 30**

My ex and I had a very messy breakup. Not long after, he asked for the iPad he’d bought me because his sister was starting school and needed it. I knew exactly what he was doing. So I told him there was no problem. I’d return the iPad if he returned everything I’d ever bought him.

He thought I was joking, but I showed up at his house with the iPad and left with my things. I collected the PS5 I’d bought him, the work chair I got him for his birthday, the air fryer, and every other thing I could remember paying for. He couldn’t believe it. I told him he was welcome to come to my house and collect anything he’d ever bought me too.

**“I wasn’t going to let him drive his girlfriend in my car” — Bukky*, 46**

I bought my first car with my own money shortly after I got married. Although it belonged to me, my husband gradually took control of it. He’d drop me off at work and use the car all day before picking me up later.

It wasn’t convenient, but I believed what was mine was his. Eventually, I saved up for another car and left that one for him.

Then, in 2019, I found out he’d been cheating on me with a younger woman and driving her around in my car. When we separated briefly, the first thing I asked for was my car. He couldn’t believe it, but I insisted.

I eventually sold the car and kept the money. We eventually reconciled, but since then, I’ve been much stricter with what belongs to me.

**“I wasn’t leaving my investment behind for him” — Awele*, 49**

Before our divorce, my husband and I ran a food business together. When our marriage started falling apart, I suggested selling the business and splitting the proceeds, but he refused. He wanted us to keep running it together, but I knew he mostly wanted to keep benefiting from my labour.

Although we both contributed to the business, I handled most of the cooking and day-to-day operations, while he did very little. Besides, I had no interest in working alongside someone I was divorcing.

We’d also been saving money in a joint account to expand the business, so I withdrew an amount equivalent to my investment and took the delivery bikes I’d paid for.

He was angry, but I stood my ground. If he wanted to keep the business, he could, but I wasn’t leaving my investment behind.

**“I even took the pepper soup in his freezer” — Pearl* 28**

I was living with my boyfriend when our relationship ended. Instead of trying to resolve our issues, he sent me a text saying he’d stay with his friends for a few days so I could pack my things and leave.

That message pissed me off, so I did exactly what he asked. I packed my belongings and took everything I’d contributed to the house. I took the birthday cards I’d given him, our pictures, and even the pepper soup I’d cooked and stored in the freezer.

A few days later, he accused me of taking some of his belongings and threatened to involve the police. I ignored him.

**“He dumped me, so I took back the AirPods” — Habiba* 21**

I once gave this guy the original AirPods 4 because he’d been talking about them for months. I was a student and didn’t even own AirPods myself, so buying them left me seriously broke.

Not long after his birthday, he started acting differently and eventually told me he was no longer interested. I couldn’t stop wondering if he’d deliberately waited until after his birthday to end things.

I went to his place hoping we could talk things through, but he made it clear we were done. Then I spotted the AirPods beside his bed. How could I leave them behind? On my way out, I quietly slipped them into my bag.

Later, he sent a text asking if I’d seen them. I told him I hadn’t. Whether he knew I took them or not, I don’t care. At least I’m the one using AirPods now.

The Worst Things Nigerians Have Heard in Situationships��

Mofiyinfoluwa Adeyemi — Wed, 08 Jul 2026 10:09:27 +0000

Situationships are confusing enough on their own, but sometimes, all it takes is one line to make you question everything you thought.

We asked Nigerians to share the worst things someone they were in a situationship with ever said to them.

“Every future I try to imagine with you is blurry.”

I’d asked him to define what we were doing.��

“What will I call you then? Babe?”

He said, when I asked him to stop calling me “Boss”.

“You made me realise men are cheap.”

Apparently, she meant it as a compliment.

“I can’t wait to be with white women.”

He said, after we had sex, while talking about his plans to japa.��

“You’re quite dull.”

I made spelling mistakes in the heat of texting him.

“Who told you to stop attending?”

I mentioned that I used to attend my church’s singles programme.

“What does that have to do with us?”

He said, when I asked to go on a date with someone else.��

“Commitment is not in my blood.”

He then explained that his dad never married his mum.

“I hope you learnt a lesson or two.”

She said, when I finally broke up after seeing premium shege.��

“I’ve already wasted my money and time.”

I’d asked why he was still with me if he didn’t like me.��

“What if my real man passes me by?”

She’d say, whenever I tried to hold her hand in public.

“I hope you have proof of me asking you out.”��

He said in front of my friends, when I called him my BF.��

“We can’t date because you’re too forward.”

His reason being I sent him “good morning” texts.��

“Don’t you have friends to share this with?”

I ranted to him about having a bad day.��

“I don’t want our kids to be bullied.”

He ended things because we were both “dark-skinned”.��

“My life doesn’t revolve around you.”

He said, when I complained about how long he took to reply texts.��

“I always forget about you when you leave.”

She admitted, when I asked why she never texted first.��

6 Nigerians On The Worst Thing A Relative Did During Their Wedding

Betty Godson — Tue, 07 Jul 2026 10:20:03 +0000

Weddings are supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life. But for some people, the biggest source of stress isn’t the budget, the guest list or the planning, it’s family.

We asked Nigerians to tell us about the worst thing a family member did during their wedding, and how they dealt with it. Here’s what they said.

“My aunt printed extra wedding invites behind my back” — Temidayo*, 32, F

When my husband and I were planning our wedding in 2019, we told our families we didn’t want a big celebration. But because we are both firstborns, they kept pressuring us. Eventually, we agreed to 250 guests. It was more than we wanted, and I made it clear that 250 was my limit.

After the church service, I got to the reception and immediately noticed something was wrong. The venue was packed. I was already upset because I thought the venue had double-booked the day, but that wasn’t the case.

I later found out that my aunt had secretly printed 200 extra invitation cards and had invited almost everyone in my mother’s extended family, plus people from our hometown. She even hired two extra caterers and servers.

A venue that should have comfortably seated 300 people had to squeeze in over 450. The ACs couldn’t cool the space, and everything became clumsy and chaotic. My aunt wasn’t apologetic in the least. She said she didn’t know why I wanted to keep my wedding a secret. I was so angry, I spent the rest of the reception stewing.

I’ve refused to speak to or interact with her since then.

“My brother tried to ruin my wedding after party” — Segun*, 37, M

My family is deeply religious, so my parents insisted there’d be no alcohol at the wedding reception. My wife and I didn’t mind because we’d planned an after-party with our friends.

Before the big day, my groomsmen stocked my car with cartons of alcohol. I gave my younger brother, who was also my best man, the car key because I trusted him completely.

The reception went well, and then it was time for the after-party. When the older guests left, I started looking for my brother so we could bring out the booze. He was nowhere to be found, and his number wasn’t going through either.

I had to beg my friends to rush to a supermarket to buy more alcohol, which meant spending more money. I was angry, but I tried to enjoy the night.

The next day, during the Thanksgiving service, I asked my brother why he had disappeared the night before. He then explained that drinking alcohol ‘didn’t honour God or our parents’ and he felt like my friends had pressured me into wanting an after-party. I almost beat him up. I was so angry I didn’t speak to him for weeks. The only reason I eventually forgave him was that he hadn’t thrown the drinks away.

“My father invited my ex-boyfriend to the wedding” — Chika*, 34, F

Three years before I got married, I dated a man my father absolutely adored. I’m not even sure why. The relationship ended after he cheated on me, but somehow my father never stopped liking him.

Imagine my shock when I noticed him at my wedding reception. At first, I thought he’d somehow gotten an invitation through mutual friends, but no. My father invited him.

When I confronted my dad, he said that he thought we were still friends. I still cringe whenever I remember that day. Every time I caught a glimpse of him at that reception, I got irritated. It was so bad that my husband noticed, and I had to explain what happened. It was so embarrassing.

“My cousin stole the money they sprayed at the wedding” — Tunde*, 33, M

When I got married, guests sprayed us with a lot of money, and my dad’s friends also gave us several cash gifts. We had a designated area for envelopes and a table for presents.

The wedding was fantastic, and my wife and I didn’t realise anything was wrong until we started sorting gifts the next day. Several envelopes were empty, and others were missing.

After asking around, we discovered my cousin had been helping himself to the money throughout the reception. I don’t know why he thought nobody would notice. The betrayal was shocking. This was someone I’d grown up with.

The worst part was how my family handled it. Instead of demanding accountability, they kept asking me to forgive him because he’s family. I eventually did, but I’d never trust him with anything important again.

“My cousin announced her pregnancy during my bridal shower” — Bimpe*, 31, F

My older cousin had been trying for a baby for years, so when she told me she’d finally gotten pregnant about two weeks before my wedding, I was genuinely happy for her.

She wanted to keep the news private, and I respected her wish.

Two nights before my wedding, my female relatives, bridesmaids and aso-ebi ladies organised a small bridal shower for me. Halfway through the shower, my cousin stood up and announced that she was expecting.

The room exploded. People screamed, cried, hugged her, and completely forgot why we’d gathered in the first place. I just sat there watching my bridal shower turn into a pregnancy celebration. I felt guilty for being upset because I knew how much the pregnancy meant to her. But it still hurt. There were so many other days she could have made that announcement. Why choose mine?

“My uncle nearly started a fight over food” — Ibrahim*, 40, M

I was already stressed enough without having to manage grown adults behaving like toddlers.

One of my uncles arrived late to the reception and discovered the caterers had run out of the meal he wanted. Instead of choosing something else, he started shouting at the servers. Another uncle told him to calm down. Within minutes,

it escalated into pushing, insults and people threatening physical violence. I was so embarrassed. Thankfully, my cousins and some groomsmen stepped in before things got worse.

The fight lasted less than 10 minutes, but it became the main topic of conversation afterwards. Eight years later, my family members still bring it up whenever my wedding is mentioned.

Sunken Ships: I Lost My Best Friend After Dating A Woman He Said I Could Have

My Husband Almost Got Me Deported. Then I Had Another Man’s Baby��

Mofiyinfoluwa Adeyemi — Mon, 06 Jul 2026 16:13:29 +0000

On the Streets is a �鶹��Ƶ weekly series about the chaos of modern dating: from situationships and endless talking stages, to heartbreak and everything it means to be single in today’s world.

Trigger Warning: Domestic Abuse

After years of financial control and abuse in her marriage, Faith* (38) walked away, knowing it would cost her the right to remain in the UK.

In this episode of On the Streets, she shares how she rebuilt her life as a single mother and found unexpected support in another man.

What’s your current relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

I’m single and not searching. I’ve had many ups and downs with relationships, and right now, being alone feels like the healthiest choice.

How did you get here? Walk me through your dating history.

My first serious relationship was in 2013, just around the same time I was wrapping up in university.

I started dating Yomi*, someone I’d known through church for years. We’d grown up around each other but only became close as adults.

He was a really nice guy and easy to be around. The only problem was his family. Our mothers attended the same church and already had issues with each other. Somehow, that friction spilled into our relationship.

His mum frequently accused me of being rude or badly behaved. Despite the tension, Yomi and I tried to hold on, but the constant family drama chipped away at our relationship.

Was that what eventually ended it?

Not exactly. Less than a year into our relationship, I found out he’d been cheating on me with another girl from our church. I never saw it coming.

I’m not sure why he cheated, but I felt his family constantly whispering in his ears made it easier for the relationship to fall apart. Whatever the case, I couldn’t forgive him, so we broke up.

I was still nursing the heartbreak when I met David*.

Tell me about David

He was a family friend. His aunt lived around our area, and my mum often talked about him because she felt sorry for everything he’d been through.

A few years earlier, David had lost his mum to cancer. She’d practically raised him alone, so losing her completely changed his life. He was the last child and had to move in with his aunt.

We were around the same age and became friends. David was jovial and fun to be around. Being around him pulled me out of my sadness. Before long, I developed feelings for him.

We started dating in 2015, and within months, he asked if I’d marry him.

That was fast. Were you ready?

At the time, I thought I was. I grew up in a traditional family and had always wanted to marry young. When David proposed, my parents were thrilled.

I thought he was the perfect guy. After my experience with Yomi’s family, I also liked that there didn’t seem to be any family drama attached to him.

We got married in October 2016.

Tell me about the early years of your marriage. What were they like?

I quickly realised there were things about David I hadn’t known while we were dating.

The biggest shock was discovering how much David lied. He’d exaggerated his financial situation and told me his parents had left certain things behind for him, but much of it turned out to be a charade.

He was an engineer, but he didn’t have a stable job. He survived on small jobs here and there, which was very different from the impression he’d given me while we were dating. Whenever I questioned the inconsistencies, he became defensive.

His excuse was that he planned to relocate, so there was no point in committing to a permanent job.

In 2017, he finally got an opportunity to move to the UK. Around the same time, I found out I was pregnant.

How did you feel about him leaving while you were pregnant?

I wanted him to wait. I was about three months pregnant and didn’t want to go through it alone. But David refused. During one of our arguments, he slapped me.

What?

He’d never been violent before. I was shocked. He apologised almost immediately, and I convinced myself it was a one-off incident.

I had no idea it was the first glimpse of the man he’d become. He left for the UK later that year.

How did your relationship cope with the distance?

We spoke regularly, but that didn’t make the pregnancy easier. I had fibroids, which made both the pregnancy and the birth of our son. It hurt that he wasn’t there to support me through any of it.

Before relocating, David had sold almost everything we owned to fund his move. With nowhere else to go, I moved back in with my parents.

I started teaching so I could contribute financially, but I was unhappy. I was married, yet I was living with my parents and raising our baby alone.

Once David settled in the UK, he started the process for my son and me to join him as his dependants. Even then, he claimed he couldn’t afford our visas and plane tickets, so my parents paid for everything. That’s how my son and I joined him in the UK in early 2019.

Did things improve after you reunited?

Not really. Almost as soon as I arrived, David wanted me to start working. He didn’t care that our son was still a baby. Most days, I left him with a Nigerian couple who had helped David when he first arrived in the UK.

David found me a job at a local restaurant, and I started working almost immediately. That’s when he suddenly announced that things were different abroad. He said we had to split the expenses 50-50.

Unfortunately, my salary went into his account because I’d used his bank details when I started the job. So while he talked about equality, I didn’t even have control of my own half. Anytime I needed money, I had to explain what it was for before he’d release it. I hated being so dependent on him.

Then the pandemic hit in 2020. David’s salary was cut during the lockdown, which added to our issues. We fought constantly, and I saw more of the man he’d hidden before we got married.

I’m sorry. Did things get better?

They only did after I got a better-paying caregiving job through a family connection in 2021. This time, I made sure my salary went into my own account.

David was upset. Even though I still contributed half of the household expenses, he complained that I wasn’t giving enough. He even reported me to someone in our community, hoping they’d convince me to hand over more of my salary. Instead, the person told him it was my money and that contributing half was fair.

I think losing control over my money made him angry. He’d ignore me for days at a time. Around that period, I discovered he was having an affair.

How did you find out?

I found messages on his phone. When I confronted him, he said we’d only had one child, and since I hadn’t gotten pregnant again despite trying, he decided to look out. For a while, his words made me feel guilty, as though I was responsible for his cheating.

I also think our financial situation affected his self-esteem. He became obsessed with impressing people and maintaining a lifestyle we couldn’t afford. He’d brag to his friends about things when I knew the reality of our finances. At one point, he got a car he couldn’t keep up the repayments on, and it was eventually repossessed.

Whenever I tried to talk to him, he’d lash out. Eventually, he became physically violent again.

Hmmm

My cousin’s daughter came to the UK from Nigeria and needed somewhere to stay, so I allowed her to stay with us temporarily. David was furious. She was only with us for three weeks, but he made her extremely uncomfortable. He’d deliberately hide groceries and food so she couldn’t eat.

After she left, I confronted him. David took out his belt and beat me.

I’m sorry. Why did you stay after that?

I didn’t have a choice. My immigration status depended on him, and I couldn’t afford to leave without our child.

I also come from a traditional family where divorce isn’t considered an option. Whenever I spoke to my family, they told me to endure.

But David kept getting worse. He stopped going to church and spent more time drinking with his friends and wasting what little money he earned. By then, whatever love I had for him was gone. We were living like housemates.

By 2023, I reached my limit.

I got an opportunity for a better job and made the mistake of telling David. He went behind my back and interfered with the recruitment process, claiming it was for family reasons. Eventually, the opportunity fell through.

When I found out, I was furious. We got into an argument, and he slammed my head against the wall so hard that my ear and nose started bleeding.

It happened in front of our son. He burst into tears and begged his father to stop hurting me. Instead, David turned and started beating him, too.

I couldn’t take that. I called the police, and David was arrested.

Watching him attack our son made my decision for me. I couldn’t raise a child in a home where violence was normal.

During the attack, David had also grabbed my neck and threatened to kill me. I believed he was capable of doing it. I knew he wouldn’t be detained for long, and I feared for my life.

I had a friend in another city who’d been encouraging me to leave. I packed my things, moved in with her and filed for divorce.

How did David react?

At first, he threatened me. Then he begged. He involved people from our church and members of my family, hoping they’d convince me to return. But my mind was made up.

Once he realised I’d left for good, he reported our separation to the Home Office because my immigration status was tied to him.

Then he started fighting me for custody. He argued that if I lost my right to remain in the UK and returned to Nigeria, my son would have a worse life and that I’d subject him to child labour.

He took the matter to court, but he hadn’t considered the evidence of domestic violence. I got a lawyer involved, and we were in and out of court for months. My son was also interviewed separately and admitted that he was afraid of his father.

Eventually, the case worked in my favour. I received a five-year visa and was finally free from David.

I’m glad. What did starting over look like?

Even though I’d won, my life didn’t feel like it. I’d stopped working during that period and exhausted my savings on legal fees. I had almost nothing left.

The friend I was staying with had her own responsibilities and couldn’t accommodate my son and me indefinitely. I was almost stranded and even considered giving up and returning to Nigeria.

That was when I met George*. He was an older Nigerian man in our church community. When he heard I needed somewhere to stay, he offered my son and me a place in his home.

We started as friends, but over time, we got intimate. About seven months later, I found out I was pregnant.

Oh. How did you both react to the pregnancy?

I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep the pregnancy, but George was happy.

Eventually, I also decided to accept the pregnancy and move forward. We grew closer during that period, but I still wouldn’t describe us as a romantic couple. I was emotionally exhausted and had no interest in dating or marriage. George never pushed for marriage either.

Right. So, what happened after you had the baby?

Shortly after I had my daughter in 2024, I moved into my own place.

George and I agreed to co-parent. He’s an active father and provides for our daughter, but that’s where our relationship ends. He’s even dating someone else now.

Have you considered dating again?

I haven’t even entertained the thought. Right now, I want to make money and give my children the most comfortable life I can.

I’m finally in a good place. Why would I want to ruin it?

Fair enough. How have these experiences shaped the way you think about love and relationships?

The most important thing I’ve learnt is that people will always talk.

One reason I stayed in my marriage for so long was fear. I worried people would say I’d moved abroad only to get divorced. Eventually, the divorce happened, and people still talked. Even those who knew I’d survived abuse spread rumours that I’d left my marriage for George. I’ve stopped caring, and my life is so much better for it.

I’ve also learnt that staying isn’t always what’s best for your children.

My son recently told me he no longer wants to bear his father’s name because his father is a bad person. That broke my heart because I hadn’t realised how much he remembered. I hope that time helps him heal.

Finally, how are the streets treating you these days? Rate them on a scale of 1 to 10.

10/10. I love being single. Being a single mum has its challenges, but I feel happier and better off than I ever did while I was married.

12 of The Best Lagos Restaurants for a Picture Perfect Proposal

Adeyinka Odutuyo — Mon, 06 Jul 2026 12:58:51 +0000

If you’ve ever watched a wedding proposal reel on Instagram or found yourself swiping through a carousel of proposal photos, you already know it’s never just about the ring. The ambience, lighting, décor, and overall setting help create that unforgettable, fairy-tale moment. That’s why choosing the right venue matters just as much as planning the proposal itself.

If you’re searching for the best Lagos restaurants for wedding proposal moments that are both romantic and camera-ready, we’ve rounded up the perfect places to help you pull it off. But please, gather your coins!