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 spending more than a decade in a relationship he believed would end in marriage, Jide* (29) thought he knew what his future would look like. But when distance and betrayal unravelled the life he had imagined, it forced him to rethink everything he believed about love and commitment.
In this story, he opens up about growing up in a relationship and the heartbreak that changed his outlook on dating.
What’s your current relationship status, and how do you feel about it?
I’m single because I feel detached from the idea of relationships. Dating is exhausting, so I’m not actively looking.
Exhausting is a strong word. How did you get to that point?
I was in love with the same person for 13 years. When that relationship ended, it changed how I think about love.
I met Dami* when we were classmates in JSS2. Back then, people knew me as a bit of a rascal, while she was the serious one. My parents always compared me to students who were doing well in class, so one day I asked her to help me study. That was how we became close friends. Eventually, I developed feelings for her and told her how I felt. She reciprocated, so we started dating.
By senior secondary school, our relationship had become very intense, and I told her I wanted to marry her. She used to laugh about it, but I meant it. Teachers even tried to separate us because they felt we were too young to be that attached.
That sounds cute.
It was. I loved her so deeply that during our WAEC exams, I paid to get an expo for Maths because she struggled with the subject. Unfortunately, while I was trying to pass it to her, the examiner caught me. They withdrew my script, and when the results came out, I failed maths.
My parents were disappointed and wanted me to rewrite WAEC, but I refused. At that time, I was consumed by the idea of making money so I could marry Dami.
I decided the fastest path was to learn a trade. I started an apprenticeship in mechanical work because I dreamed of selling cars one day.
Dami constantly encouraged and reminded me that if we were serious about a future together, I had to become responsible. At the same time, she tried to gain admission into a polytechnic while learning hairdressing.
But by the time I turned 21 and my progress still felt slow, she started pushing me to prove my commitment. She wanted us to take a blood oath.
What?
Some of our friends had already done it. It involved cutting your finger, mixing blood, and swearing commitment to each other. Dami wanted us to do it so she’d know I was serious about us. I was ready to go along when my brother, who was visiting, found out. He was furious and insisted I move with him to Ibadan to attend a technical school, convinced I was wasting my time in Ibafo.
Dami didn’t believe my explanation. She thought I was backing out because I wasn’t serious. I’d also sworn to her that I wouldn’t leave, but my parents and brothers kept pressuring me. Eventually, I gave in. In November 2018, I moved to Ibadan.
Did the distance affect your relationship?
It made things difficult. Communication became inconsistent because she didn’t even have a phone.
Sometimes we could only speak when her mother visited during the weekends or when a friend allowed her to use their phone. Even after she eventually got a phone in 2019, things didn’t flow as easily as before.
In nearly three years, I only went home twice. At first, it was because my brother wanted me to focus on my training, and later, the pandemic made traveling harder. During that time, she moved from Ibafo to Lagos to work with her mum.
After my training, I stayed in Ibadan for a few more months because I wanted to build capital for a solar installation business. Eventually, I returned home in April 2021, planning to reconnect with Dami and continue our relationship. When I called, she told me she was out of town and would be back in a few days.
But the very night I arrived and went out to see some friends, one of them made an insulting comment about her. When I fought him, they said they thought we’d already broken up because she was pregnant.
Wow. That must’ve been shocking to hear.
I refused to believe it. I went straight to her grandmother’s house. It turned out she was actually home and had lied to me.
Everything became clear immediately when I saw her. She was visibly pregnant. That was the most painful moment of my life. It felt like someone had ripped my heart out.
She told me it was a mistake with an older man in Lagos and that it only happened once. She said her mother found out early and stopped her from having an abortion.
You’d think that would end the relationship, but it didn’t.
Hmmm
I felt partly responsible because I hadn’t kept many of the promises I made to her, and couldn’t blame her for not waiting around. I also convinced myself it was truly a mistake. I decided to support her during the pregnancy. At one point, she was rushed to the hospital because she needed blood, and I donated. I believed that once the baby was born, we could still find our way back to each other, even though people mocked me for it.
But about three months after I accepted everything, she disappeared and was unreachable. Her grandmother later told me the baby’s father had accepted responsibility and asked Dami to move in with him. He promised to pay her dowry after the baby was born.
That must’ve been devastating after everything you’d done.
It destroyed me. For a long time, I could barely function. I lost focus on my business and started drinking heavily. I was always high because it was the only time I didn’t feel the pain.
It took months before I started rebuilding my life again. By the end of 2022, I was finally accepting what had happened. Then she came back into my life.
How did that happen?
She came home for Christmas that December and reached out to apologise. I ignored the message, so she came to see me at my shop and asked if we could at least remain friends.
We talked for hours. From what she told me, it seemed like she didn’t have much choice in marrying the man. He had even refused to fund her education. During that holiday, she visited my shop several times. We caught up on everything, and she even gave me advice about my business. I realised I still hadn’t moved on from her
Then, one afternoon, she asked to see my new apartment. I agreed, and one thing led to another. We ended up sleeping together.
Even though she was married?
At first I felt conflicted, but I also realised I didn’t regret it. It felt like I was reclaiming someone who’d been taken away from me.
After the first time, it happened once more before she returned to Lagos. Part of me expected what was between us to grow stronger, but she went back to ignoring me.
That was when I realised the situation was unhealthy. When she visited again a few months later, I deliberately kept my distance. Eventually, she got the message and we stopped being close. She reaches out occasionally to ask for small amounts of money for her children, but that’s about it.
I’m glad you closed that chapter. Did you try dating again after that?
Most of the relationships after her were casual. I avoided commitment because I felt like it was pointless.
But in May 2024, I almost became serious with Bola*. She was a friend of my sister and was very intelligent. In many ways, she reminded me of Dami.
But I was cautious about jumping into a relationship with her. She often asked me for money and seemed most interested in what I could provide. A few months into our talking stage, I found out she’d been flirting with a new guy in town because he was spending a lot on her. That made me refuse to commit to her, and eventually she left for the other guy.
That experience completely shut down whatever emotional investment I still had in relationships.
I’m curious, do you think you’ll ever date seriously again?
I won’t say it’s impossible, but right now I don’t feel the desire. I’d rather focus on building my business. If I want children in the future, I might consider having them without the pressure of marriage. For now, I’m comfortable being on my own.
Looking back, what has all of this taught you about love?
I’ve learned not to make major life decisions purely based on emotion. Dropping out of school because of love is something I still regret. Now I try to approach things more logically instead of letting my feelings control everything.
Finally, how are the streets treating you these days? Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10.
9/10. Being single is peaceful. Love comes with responsibilities and emotional costs I’m not interested in dealing with.
*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.
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