I once heard someone say romance is dying, and it got me thinking about how chaotic dating can be these days. To understand what it’s like being single (or on the streets) in today’s Nigeria, I spoke to *Anna (25).
She shared how what was supposed to be a breakup that set her free spiralled into a messy cycle of sex and control for months. Now she’s finally learning to find peace in being single.
What’s your current relationship status, and how do you feel about it?
I’d say I’m single now. And honestly? It’s been more refreshing than I expected.
When did you first find yourself on the streets, and what kicked things off?
I’ve kind of always been on the streets. In secondary school, I had those cute long-distance relationships — the type that were more vibes than anything serious. When I got into uni, things stayed the same. There were brief talking stages here and there, but nothing too deep.
That was until I got into a “real” relationship. Or at least, I thought I did. Looking back, I was probably still on the streets even then. Because I was more or less the only one in that relationship with *Saviour.
What were those early days of dating like?
They were very dreamy. Saviour lived alone outside of school, while I had a roommate in school. He would visit me from time to time, but we mostly spent time together at his place.
He was funny, intentional, and for the first time, I felt like someone really saw me. He’d point out things about myself I never even noticed, in a good way. We started dating in 2020. I fell hard.
So what changed?
He was the best guy — until he wasn’t. I can’t say exactly when the shift happened, but I remember he started talking a lot about “self-improvement.” Then out of nowhere, he broke up with me to “focus on himself.
He swore that was the reason, but I couldn’t help feeling like I was the real issue. Maybe after the first year of dating, I didn’t measure up to whatever standard he had set for himself. That breakup was the start of a very messy ride.
How messy are we talking?
The breakup happened during a school break, but we stayed in touch. When school resumed, I kept going over to his place, and we kept having sex. Constantly.
It became this toxic loop of me having sex with my ex, someone I still had feelings for. It was obsessive, in a way. Even though I pretended not to see it, I knew he was using me. I was merely convenient. No relationship, or expectations — just someone to cook for him and sleep with him. He knew I still loved him, and he used that to his advantage.
So you stayed without the label. Did anything happen during that time that caught you off guard?
Oh, Saviour gave me an STI. This was some months into our “arrangement”. I didn’t want to believe he was sleeping with other people, but who else could it have been? I told him over the phone and blocked him.
That really hurt me. But around that time, I’d also started talking to this guy, *Rahman. He was the opposite of Saviour, always in my corner and texting to check up on me.
We were meant to be just friends and nothing more, so I thought, “Why not?” But the first day we finally met in person, we had sex.
It happens. So you were done with Saviour?
[Laughs] I wish. It wasn’t supposed to happen with Rahman — I was still unsure of everything. And then Saviour messaged me again on Snapchat. I hadn’t blocked him there. We started talking again. He came to see me. And just like that, the cycle continued.
Why did you continue choosing to go back to him?
At the time, it didn’t even feel like I was “going back” to him. In my head, I thought I was trying to fix what we had. Saviour was my first real love, and I felt so deeply vulnerable with him.
He’d seen parts of me no one else had. I thought if I just held on long enough, we could go back to how things were. But he leveraged that. The final breakup happened a couple of months later, in 2022.
What finally led to it?
It was after one particularly sweet night. We had amazing sex, and in the morning, he woke me up to do it again. But I noticed something felt off. It was unusually aggressive. He didn’t smile or say a word. He just got up and went to the shower.
When I tried to ask him what was wrong, he got annoyed. He said a lot of hurtful things, but what broke me was when he said I should stop acting like we’re still together when we’re not.
I was floored. I was starting to tear up when he told me to leave his place. I gathered what remained of my dignity, got dressed and left. I walked straight to the road and kept my eyes ahead so I wouldn’t cry. By the time I got back to my hostel, I collapsed on my bed and wept. My roommate just held me while I cried myself to sleep. That was when I finally let him go.
That must’ve been hard. Did you try connecting with anyone else?
I did. After a while, I started talking to a guy I liked. But then I found out he lied about his age. He was some years younger and still a student. I was already done with school at the time.
The age wasn’t even the problem. It was the lie, and the fact that he clearly wasn’t ready for a relationship. He was just looking for a fling, and I wasn’t about to leave a good situationship for him.
Situationship? When did that happen?
Yeah, that was with Rahman. I got close to him when I needed a rebound from my good-for-nothing ex. He liked me more than I liked him, and honestly, that gave me a sense of control. I figured he couldn’t hurt me the way Saviour did, because I didn’t have feelings for him.
Rahman knew a little about what happened with Saviour. We were honest about where we stood and agreed a relationship wouldn’t work. It was supposed to be a short-term fling, but somehow, it stretched into two years.
Eventually, It stopped being about Saviour. Rahman and I just got comfortable. We still link up from time to time, but I wouldn’t call it anything serious.
Two years is a long time. Why did you keep it that way?
There are several reasons Rahman and I could never be more. First, there’s religion. His family is staunchly Muslim, and I’m Catholic. I’ve always seen relationships as something that should have a clear end goal, and that was never going to work between us.
But beyond that, I felt in control with Rahman, and that mattered. After what happened with Saviour, I couldn’t afford to feel that vulnerable again. I wasn’t sure I could survive another heartbreak, so keeping things undefined felt safer.
I understand. What’s the hardest part about trying to find love (or even just companionship) these days?
Knowing who’s genuine and who’s not. I gave my whole heart to someone and never got closure. That kind of hurt changes you.
Have you ever thought, “Maybe I should leave the streets?”
Yes. Seeing people in stable and loving relationships sometimes makes you want that, too. It’s what I want in the long-term future, but not for now. I’m still very skeptical about relationships. I just can’t trust easily anymore. It’s just easier to stay this way for the time being.
What are the little things that still give you hope about dating?
I’m still a lover girl, deep down. I like to believe you experience people differently. So just because it didn’t work before doesn’t mean it won’t work someday. I’ve also realised I like companionship, so it’ll eventually happen.
How has your time on the streets changed what you want from love or partnership?
It’s taught me to look beyond a person’s words and pay attention to actions. I want something honest. I’m not asking for a perfect love story, just one that’s real. If it’s not, then I’m more than willing to walk away first.
Finally, how are the streets treating you these days? Give it a rating on a scale of 1-10
Not bad, to be honest. I’ll give it a solid 6. Mostly because I have good friends who help me through it all. I don’t feel lonely since I have them, and we spend a lot of time together.
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