In many Nigerian relationships, money can be more than just a tool for survival; it can also be a tool for power, control, and sometimes escape. While some women are fully transparent with their partners about their finances, others save in secret.
We spoke to five Nigerian women who’ve hidden money from their partners for different reasons rooted in one truth: having your own gives you options.
“His money runs the home. Mine gives me control”— *Eruke, 35, Accountant & Mum of Two
My husband earns very well at his oil and gas job. So he covers all major expenses: rent, school fees, vacations, and even drops an allowance for the kids and family upkeep. From the outside, it looks like I don’t need to lift a finger. But I work, too. I earn ₦400k/month as a mid-level accountant. While he knows I work, he’s never asked how much I make. I’ve never had to explain.
I save most of it. Sometimes I buy the kids nice clothes just because. Other times I treat myself: perfumes, a solo spa day, and random gifts. If I want to send something to my parents or help a friend, I don’t need permission. There’s a kind of peace in that.
He does his part. I do mine. But this money I keep? It’s mine. And it’s not about hiding, it’s about having control over my finances. I don’t ever want to lose that.
“My husband asked me to stop working. I agreed and quietly built something else”— *Hafsat, 31, Remote Health Writer
When I married, I worked as a lab scientist in a private hospital. I loved my job. But my husband, a professor, didn’t like that I interacted with male colleagues and patients. He said it didn’t sit right with him religiously or morally.
He asked me to trust him and promised I’d never need to worry about money again. It took a while, but I eventually agreed.
But I also found a way to keep my mind and finances active. I started writing articles and newsletters for health companies abroad. It’s remote, pays in dollars, and keeps me grounded. He travels frequently for conferences and academic work, so he’s hardly ever around. He knows I enjoy writing, and it keeps me busy, but he doesn’t know I get paid for it.
I’m not saving to rebel. It’s a quiet reassurance that I won’t be empty-handed when he retires or gets too tired to carry everything alone. I’ll have something of my own to stand on and offer.
Join 1,000+ Nigerians, finance experts and industry leaders at The Naira Life Conference by Zikoko for a day of real, raw conversations about money and financial freedom. Click here to buy a ticket and secure your spot at the money event of the year, where you’ll get the practical tools to 10x your income, network with the biggest players in your industry, and level up in your career and business.
“He cheated and spent our joint savings. It broke something in me”— *Alero, 35, Sales Rep
When we got married in 2021, we opened a joint account to save for a house. I contributed ₦100k every month from my salary, and he contributed even more. It felt like we were building something solid together, and I was so proud of our consistency.
Two years ago, I found out he was cheating, and worse, he’d used over ₦1.5 million from our joint account to fund the affair: shopping, hotel stays, and even a new phone for her. He didn’t deny it and claimed, “It was just a reckless mistake.”
Something in me broke that day.
I didn’t leave. Our kids were still small, and I had no energy to start that war. But I changed.
Since then, I’ve kept every naira I earn to myself. I still make ₦350k monthly, and I save aggressively. I don’t owe him explanations, and he doesn’t dare ask. I buy what I need, handle the children when necessary, and plan for my own future.
I might still be here, but I’ll never be caught off guard again.
“I love him, but I’ve seen what financial dependence does to women”— *Morayo, 28, Architect
We’ve been together for almost four years. He’s supportive and emotionally available, but he’s terrible with money. He spends as soon as he gets paid and is always one emergency away from being broke.
Early in the relationship, he’d casually say things like, “Ah, babe, run me ₦50k, I’ll pay you next week.” At first, I didn’t mind. But the “next week” never came. Once, I paid our ₦800k joint rent upfront, and he didn’t contribute until three months later, after endless reminders and a full-blown fight.
That’s when it hit me: I’m on my own if I go broke.
So I quietly started taking saving seriously.
I created a budget and began setting aside a portion of my monthly salary in a fixed-income savings account, away from his knowledge.
It’s not even about planning to leave. I love him. But I’ve seen what financial dependence does to women.
This money is my buffer. It gives me confidence that I won’t be stranded if something goes wrong.
“At some point, I just stopped telling him how much I really earn”— * Tope, 27, Content Marketer
I was fresh out of university when we started dating, and he liked handling things. He paid for dates, arranged car service, and even sent money randomly. I didn’t mind. I liked it, even.
But something shifted when I started working and earning some stable income.
He became weird about money. He didn’t complain directly, but there were jabs. If I got a bonus, it was “Big girl, you won’t greet us again.” He’d joke about me becoming “too independent if I mentioned a freelance gig.” I laughed it off at first, until it started to feel like I had to shrink to keep the peace.
He once got upset because I paid for something without telling him — it was just Netflix. That’s when I realised he liked the version of me who needed him financially.
I clocked it early; he’s the kind of man who needs to feel indispensable. The minute he senses you can stand alone, he starts pulling away.
So I stopped sharing details about how much I earn or save. I know now that the more self-sufficient I am, the more he sees it as a threat.
And in a country where many women are forced to stay in bad situations because they can’t afford to leave, I’m making sure I have options. I never want to lose that leverage and power to choose what’s best for me, whether he likes it or not.
