Francis* (30) spent nearly a decade in a relationship that felt like a forever kind of love until a tragic accident changed everything. In this story, he talks about losing his fiancée, trying and failing to move on, and finally realising the need to manage his grief.

What’s your current relationship status?

I’m single. I’ve mostly been on my own since I lost Jane*, my fiancée, in 2021 . We were together for nine years, and her death changed me. I couldn’t move on for a very long time. And when I tried to, I sabotaged every relationship I got into.

Tell me about Jane. What was it like being with her?

Jane was my first, I’d never been in a relationship before we started dating. I was that devout Catholic boy who considered becoming a priest. But just before university, I left Jos for Ibadan in 2012 to take remedial courses, and that’s when I met Jane. We were in the same programme and naturally spent lots of time around each other. I fell hard.

I’m an only child and grew up in a deeply religious household where romantic feelings especially as a teenager were considered sinful distractions. But with Jane, all the feelings I’d suppressed about girls came rushing out. We started dating in 2012, the same year we both got into the University of Ibadan. She studied History, while I studied English.

The endless ASUU strikes kept us in school for nearly six years. But it didn’t matter. Through it all, I had my first love and first everything in Jane. In our final year, we moved in together off-campus without telling our families. We just couldn’t imagine being apart.

After we graduated in 2018, we served in Ibadan and tried to settle here. I landed a job with a government agency, and she started teaching. Among our friends, everyone admired us. We did everything together.

Jane’s mum eventually found out we were living together and didn’t take it lightly. That’s when I realised maybe it was time to start planning for the future. I proposed in June 2021, and she was over the moon. I had no idea things would change so drastically a few months later.

What happened?

Her school went on break that August. So, she travelled home to Benin to spend time with her family and tell them about our engagement. I dropped her off at the park that morning and hugged her goodbye.

Later that day, I couldn’t reach her, and messages also stopped delivering. I called her family, and when we contacted the park the next day, they said the bus never got to town. At first, we feared kidnapping. But we later heard there had been a ghastly accident just outside town. None of the passengers survived.

Her sister called to break the news of her demise. The world just spun around me. I’ll never forget that moment.

That must’ve been incredibly hard. I’m sorry.

It became the darkest period of my life. The worst part was not having closure. We buried her casket without a body because they’d been burned to shreds in the car. I couldn’t function for over three months. Thankfully, my co-workers covered for me while I went home.

My parents tried to be there, but their support didn’t help.  My dad wanted me to “be strong” because I was a man, while my mum made hurtful comments about how Jane wasn’t the best person for me. We fought constantly. I  eventually returned to Ibadan sooner than planned just to escape it all.

Fair enough. Did you try to date again?

Not for almost two years. Everyone wanted me to move on, and I succumbed because I’d also gotten tired of feeling stuck in my grief. So, I tried Tinder in 2023.  Most people there just wanted to hook up, which I didn’t want. Then I met Dolapo* on the app. She had great vibes and a similar build to Jane’s. I genuinely liked her.

But sex with her triggered a sense of guilt like I was cheating on Jane. It felt like Jane’s spirit was always in the room with us, which made me become distant over time. Dolapo noticed, because after a few weeks, she blocked me everywhere. I couldn’t even be mad. I knew I didn’t try hard enough to keep her.

What happened after that?

Not long after, a friend introduced me to Ijeoma*. I was drawn to her instantly, partly because her first name was Jane’s middle name. I told myself this time I’d do things differently. I made things official very early. I didn’t want the same thing with Dolapo to happen, so I told her upfront that I preferred celibacy. I also decided to stay celibate this time.  

But deep down, I knew we couldn’t work because every time she asked about our future, I didn’t have a concrete answer.

She also hated that I kept a diary where I wrote to Jane anytime something big happened, and didn’t like the framed picture of Jane in my house. She said I was idolising Jane, even though I’d told her everything from the start.

Ijeoma eventually gave me an ultimatum to get rid of Jane’s things or risk losing her. For me, it was simple. Jane meant more to me. That relationship ended last year,  after a year and two months.


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Did you feel any regret?

My feelings were more of anger. I felt like she didn’t want to understand me or what I was going through. To me, she was just being selfish. But a mutual friend later helped me see it from her perspective.

Jane and I dated for almost a decade — of course, moving on is hard. But maybe I didn’t even try enough. Both Dolapo and Ijeoma reminded me of Jane. I kept looking for her in other people, and that wasn’t fair.

Right. Did you ever consider therapy?

I tried but it didn’t help because I couldn’t open up, so I stopped after a few sessions.  But I recently joined some grief support groups, and they’ve helped more than I expected.

Sometimes, I imagine if the roles were reversed. I know I wouldn’t want Jane to live like this. This thought reminds me that healing isn’t just for me; it’s also something she would’ve wanted. I’m still not ready to date, but I’m working on myself every day.

Is there still hope for dating in the future?

Eventually, yes. I just turned 30, and there’s pressure from my family to move on and settle down. But first, I want to get to a place where Jane is just a memory I cherish and one that  doesn’t influence how I live my life.

Curious. Has your time alone changed what you want from love or partnership?

It’s made me realise I don’t want someone to fill a void. I don’t need a partner to replace Jane; I want to grow a different kind of love.

Before, I clung to the past and projected it onto other people. Now, I’d like to live in the present. I hope to find someone patient enough to help me through this phase.

So, how would you say the streets are treating you? Rate it on a scale of 1-10

A 4 if I’m being honest, or maybe a 5. I’m learning how to be okay on my own. The loneliness sucks sometimes, but it’s better than being with the wrong person for the wrong reasons.


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