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.

Joan* (51) spent years searching for lasting love and commitment, but her journey came with its share of heartbreak. After a difficult first relationship left her a single mother of two, she thought she’d found a second chance at love with a married man, only to learn a painful lesson.

In this episode of On the Streets, she opens up about her search for love, the compromises she made while raising her children alone, and how she eventually came to terms with being single.

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

I’m single, and I’m indifferent about it. I’m 51, and I’ve never been married, but it doesn’t stop me from enjoying myself. If you’d told me 30 years ago that I’d be in this position, I would have considered it a nightmare. 

How did you get to this point? Walk me through your relationship history.

My first serious relationship started in 1997. I was 22 and had just finished secondary school when I met Bola*.

He approached me one day while I was on an errand. He said he’d noticed me from a distance and wanted to get to know me. He was in university and had a way with words that drew me in. 

The early days of our relationship were good, although I struggled with how overprotective he was. I had to cut off most of my friends because he didn’t like me spending time with anyone but him. At the time, I thought it was a sign of his love. He also made a lot of promises about marrying me when he graduated. Before that could happen, I got pregnant in 1999.

How did you feel when you found out?

I was frightened. My mum died when I was young so my father raised me on his own. I was worried about disappointing him and even considered terminating the pregnancy.

But Bola reassured me that he wanted to keep the baby and went to meet my father to ease my worry. Since I was already pregnant, my father agreed to let me move in with Bola, trusting him to take responsibility for me.

What was it like when you moved in together?

We couldn’t afford to live on our own, so we moved in with his sisters. I hoped it would be temporary since Bola had only a year left in school. Instead, he moved to Abuja to start his NYSC, leaving me behind with his sisters. 

That was when life became unbearable. They never really accepted me, and with Bola gone, nothing stopped them from picking on me. Whenever I complained to him, he took their side. Eventually, I decided I’d rather join him in Abuja than continue living with his sisters. I found his address in his letters and showed up with our son at his doorstep.

Bola was surprised to see us. He was also a bit reluctant to let us in. But once there, I was in for another surprise. I assumed his parents were together whenever they visited Lagos, so I was taken aback to find his mother living with another man. When I asked questions, she took offence. 

Because his mother didn’t want me living with them, Bola and I eventually moved into his father’s boys’ quarters.

Did things get any better after you moved?

I had more peace, but we were still struggling. By the time Bola finished his NYSC, I was pregnant with our second child, and he was unemployed with two children to care for.

He became frustrated and started taking it out on me. We fought often, and I realised I couldn’t keep waiting for things to improve. I spoke to my siblings, who helped me raise money to set up a small kiosk selling provisions. The business did well and became our main source of income. I also enrolled in an accounting programme to further my education.

But rather than look for work himself, Bola left me to handle our finances. What troubled me most was his growing insecurity. Once I started earning money, he became hostile. He questioned my every move and even accused me of sleeping around for money.

That sounds really stressful

It was. The final straw came in 2004, on the night one of my customers knocked on our door late at night to buy bread. We needed every naira, so I attended to him.

When I returned, Bola flared up because I left our room at that hour. He kept calling me a prostitute, so I insulted his mother in return. That made him furious, and we got into a physical fight. His father had to intervene and separate us.

That night, I decided I could never marry Bola. I’d endured so much, but I was done. Our relationship never recovered after that. A few weeks later, we had another fight, and he kicked me out of the house. That was the end of our eight-year relationship.

How did you feel after leaving?

I was already over the relationship, but my life became even harder. After I left, Bola destroyed my kiosk, leaving me without a source of income.

With two children to care for, I had to take a job as a clerk while continuing my studies. I was struggling to pay rent and keep my children in school. Those were difficult months, until I met Usman*.

Tell me about Usman. How did you meet?

We met in 2005. After class one day, I realised I had only ₦100 left. Spending it on transport meant we’d have nothing to eat at home, so I decided to walk home. After an hour, I was exhausted and started flagging down cars. Usman offered me a lift.

He gave me his business card and asked if we could meet again. I could tell he was married, so I was sceptical at first. Before dropping me off at my junction, he gave me ₦4,000. 

I could hardly believe it. At the time, it felt like he’d dashed me a million naira. After thinking it over, I decided to visit him. Before long, we began a relationship.

What about his marriage?

We never discussed it. I appreciated that he didn’t question me about my past, so I respected his privacy too. I was also struggling to keep up with my responsibilities. There was no way I would have turned down a relationship that eased that burden.

The only thing I felt guilty about was hiding the fact that I had children.

Why did you hide it?

The longer we were together, the harder it became to tell him. I’d grown comfortable in the relationship and didn’t want my children to become a deal-breaker.

Two years in, I lost my phone, so he contacted my neighbour, who mentioned my daughter. He became suspicious and later insisted on dropping me off at home after one of our visits. I’d always told him I lived with a friend to keep him from visiting, but this time, I had to come clean.

To my surprise, having children didn’t affect our arrangement. He even started paying their school fees.

In return, I tried not to expect too much from him. But when his wife died of cancer in 2010, my feelings changed. After his mourning period, I began to hope we would get married. Then he dropped a bombshell: his family had arranged for him to marry someone else.

How did you take the news?

I was devastated. What hurt more was that he ended our five- year relationship for his ‘fresh start’. It was a tough breakup, but I don’t regret the years we spent together. He supported me and my children, helped put them through school and helped me get the job I still have today. 

I’d set myself up for heartbreak by expecting more from him.

By the time I got over Usman, I was in my late thirties with two children. Finding men who wanted marriage was difficult. Around the same time, Bola re-entered our lives, stirring up painful memories of our breakup. I didn’t want to expose my children to more instability, so I stayed away from serious relationships.

At first, watching the years go by without getting married made me sad. Eventually, I stopped making marriage a priority. I had a few casual relationships and focused on raising my children. That changed when I met Kola* in 2022.

Tell me about Kola. What was different?

I met Kola through a mutual friend. Like me, he had kids but had never married. We spent a lot of time chatting, and I soon fell in love. I realised my feelings when I found myself getting moody if he didn’t call or we had an argument.

By then, both my children had moved out, so I considered getting married to him for companionship. But whenever I raised the subject, Kola avoided the conversation.

I eventually learned why. In 2024, Kola told me he was moving to the UK. He wanted us to stay together and even hinted at plans for me to join him. But I didn’t want to make the same mistake of holding on to a man’s promises. I ended the relationship when he left. Since then, I’ve given up on relationships.

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

First, I’ve learnt the importance of having a support system. I wish I’d had a mother or close friends to confide in when I was younger. I would have made better choices if I had people who offered honest advice.

I also tell my children to pay attention to their partner’s family before committing to a serious relationship. Bola and I might have worked through our issues if his family hadn’t had so much influence over our relationship.

Still, I’m proud that I prioritised myself and my goals. I always dreamed of working in an office and giving my children a good life. I have no regrets since I achieved both despite the challenges along the way.

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

8/10. I enjoy being single. Whenever I hear my colleagues talk about their marriages, I’m grateful for my freedom. 

At this stage of my life, companionship is the only reason I would consider another serious relationship. Otherwise, I’m happy with my life as it is.

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