On the Streets is a Zikoko 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.

After surviving a relationship that turned her into a single mum, Sophie* (29) has spent the years navigating romances that forced her to confront her need for validation and her fear of being reduced to a stereotype. 

In this story, she opens up about her dating history and why she’s come to terms with her status.

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

I’m a single, single mum. For a while, I didn’t want to believe my status would affect my dating prospects. But the reality of dating in Nigeria has shown me that it does, and I have to accept it. Right now, I’ve decided to take a break.

How did you arrive at that point? Take me back to the beginning.

When I met Adam*, the father of my children, in 2016, I was very vulnerable. My first relationship had just ended weeks before. My ex left me right after our first time having sex. I felt used and stupid. We still saw each other around campus, so part of me wanted to prove I’d moved on.

I was walking to my hostel when Adam stopped me and asked for my number. We chatted for weeks. He was six years older, financially stable, and took me to nice places. I liked him, but if I’m honest, I liked the idea of him even more. Within weeks, we started dating, and I moved in with him. Less than a year later, in my final year of university, I found out I was pregnant.

Oops.

I was terrified. My first instinct was to abort the pregnancy. My parents were strict, and Adam and I came from different religious backgrounds. But he was happy. He encouraged me to keep the baby and promised my parents we’d get married. I finished school before I gave birth to my son in November 2017.

At the time, everything felt perfect. He helped me set up a business, and we had serious conversations about our future. We were planning our introduction when I got pregnant again in February 2019.

He wasn’t as excited this time because our financial realities were starting to sink in. But our real issues began during Ramadan that year.

Tell me about these issues.

Adam always took his faith more seriously during that period. It never bothered me, but that year, he complained that I wasn’t prayerful enough for the kind of wife he wanted. He insisted I fast with him, but I refused.

I told him I could pray more in my Christian faith, but I couldn’t bend to his ideologies. We quarrelled, and he reported me to his family. However, even his uncles sided with me and said we should respect each other’s beliefs.

But even after Ramadan ended, he stayed withdrawn. He stopped talking to me and eventually moved into another room.

The months that followed were the worst of my life. I was heavily pregnant, caring for my son alone, running my business, handling school runs, and attending antenatal appointments. He refused to assist, so I used my business money to prepare for the baby. I kept hoping it was just a phase that would pass after I gave birth. But what happened during my labour made me leave for good.

What happened?

It was a Friday evening in October, about a week before my due date. I was having contractions. At the same time, my son had a cold and was crying nonstop. I knocked on Adam’s door and asked him to drive us to the hospital. I was at the door for 15 minutes before he opened up, dragged our son inside, and locked me out.

I stood there for over two hours, begging him to let our son out. When the pain from contractions became unbearable, I went to our neighbours for help.

They rushed me to their car, but before we left, I felt the urge to push. I gave birth in the back seat. Even when they called him, he refused to come downstairs.

I stayed in the hospital for almost 24 hours. I called and sent messages, but he didn’t respond. When his family called him, he claimed nobody told him I was in labour. Then he said he had travelled out of town with our son for an appointment and couldn’t see me until he returned.

I never imagined he could be that cruel. When I was discharged, I packed my things and left.

Thank goodness. What happened with your son, though?

We fought over custody, but I never got him back. Our families decided it was fair since we each had one child.

It broke my heart, but I refused to move back in with Adam. The resentment had already killed whatever love I had left. I kept thinking: if I had died that night, he wouldn’t have cared. How could I live with a man like that?

Fair enough. Did you try dating again?

In 2021, I met David* at my daughter’s daycare. He was picking up his nephew when we got talking. I liked that he knew I was a single mum, and it didn’t bother him.

We went on a few dates and made things official. At first, he seemed promising. Then it became clear the relationship revolved around sex at his convenience. The dates stopped, and he avoided conversations about our future.

My wake-up call came in 2022 when my daughter got pneumonia. I was financially and emotionally overwhelmed and called him in tears. After calming me down, he asked if I could come over that night.

That response showed me everything I’d avoided and led me to break up with him. It was painful because I had intense feelings for him, but it was obvious he didn’t care about my child or me.

You’d think I’d stop dating after that, but I still wanted marriage. I joined Bumble in 2022 and met John* in 2023. He was very clear about his desire to settle down. That excited me. I wanted stability so badly that I ignored several red flags.

What red flags?

He was controlling. At first, I thought it was sweet that he wanted to know everything. Then he started policing what I wore and the places I went. We argued about it often.

He was also uncomfortable around my daughter. One day, I visited with her. When she tried to play with him, he looked irritated and snapped at her. I confronted him, and he admitted he wasn’t comfortable with her. He assumed I’d leave my daughter with my parents if we married.

That was a deal breaker. Anyone who wants to marry me has to accept my child. We eventually ended our relationship last year because we couldn’t align on that.

I got over him quickly. I realised I wasn’t really into him, I just wanted to get married. I didn’t want to fit the stereotype of a single mum who couldn’t have a happy ending. Since then, I’ve paused from actively searching.

Right. How have these experiences shaped your idea of love and relationships?

 For years, I was living for validation. I made decisions just to prove something to invincible people. If I’d realised that earlier, I would’ve saved myself a lot of pain. Though I’m grateful I never compromised my core values. 

Society doesn’t favour single mums, but I refuse to build my life around other people’s opinions.

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

7/10. If I remove the pressure of being a single parent, single life is actually peaceful. Nobody controls me, and I’m not unhappy. 

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