Sex for money? We’ve all joked about it at some point, whether as a passing sugar daddy or mummy fantasy, or a half-arsed solution to being broke.
But what about the people who’ve actually done it? For these Nigerians, transactional sex wasn’t just a thought; it was the quickest way to solve real money problems. They open up about the unique situations that pushed them into it, and how they feel looking back now.
“I slept with an older woman to fund part of my wedding” — *Garuba, 40
In a twist of desperation and mutual understanding, *Garuba found himself making an uncomfortable choice for love. He shares:
“There’s a woman on Lagos Island I’ve known for a long time. She’s older, very comfortable and well-connected. She used to buy food from my shop, and we built a rapport over time. She’d hinted once or twice about wanting me to be her “man friend”, but I never took it seriously.
Fast forward to a few years later, I was preparing for my wedding and had already borrowed more than I should’ve. Things got really tight. Out of the blue, this woman called and said she hadn’t seen me in a while. We talked, and I explained the pressure I was under. She asked me to come and see her. When I did, she offered to help offset part of the debt, but the condition was clear.
I won’t lie, I hesitated. But I also knew what I was facing: creditors breathing down my neck and no backup plan. I did it. Just that one time. And the next morning, I felt hollow. I eventually told my wife about it after our wedding. She was quiet for a while but didn’t blow up. Maybe because she knew I’d forgiven her once for cheating, too. Somehow, we were even.
The craziest part? Some months later, when we were in a financial mess again, my wife lightly mentioned that the same woman could “help out” if I asked nicely. I was shocked. Maybe she was joking. Maybe not. I considered it. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. But something in me felt wrong. My spirit didn’t align. Or maybe I was just overthinking. Either way, I didn’t go back.”
“I was in 200 level when I got my first ‘trip’ invite” — *Tola, 29
For *Tola, weekend trips to Lagos helped her pay bills and eat during her university days, even if she doesn’t miss that version of her life.
“I schooled in Ilorin, but most of the money I made came from Lagos. The state wasn’t exactly filled with opportunities to make extra cash. I’d catch up with some of my friends from UNILAG, and they’d share how they made thousands just from attending parties. I felt like I was missing out a lot, but it also wasn’t feasible to catch a bus from Ilorin to Lagos on a whim. So, I made do with the handouts I got from my friends.
In my second year, someone in my hostel told me about weekend “parols” to Lagos and asked if I was interested since I had the right looks. She explained that we just had to show up at parties and didn’t have to do anything with the guys—that was entirely by choice. I felt like I’d finally gotten my chance to make extra cash and thought, why not? I was nervous, but I was also broke AF. I was on a ₦5k weekly allowance from home and barely got anything done.
They asked us to get tested before coming. We went over, chilled at a hotel in Lekki, partied, and did what we had to do. I got ₦80k that weekend. I’d never had so much money to my name. After that, it became a twice-a-month routine. I made anywhere from ₦50k to ₦100k, depending on the client’s generosity.
It paid for my rent for a private hostel and my general survival in school. To be honest, I didn’t love it, but I didn’t hate it either. I eventually slowed to 400lvl. There was no reason, really. I just thought I’d saved up enough. Besides, I’d bagged a rich boyfriend by then, and he was really coming through with the funds.
Now that I’m older and self-sufficient, I look back and feel weird about it — like it wasn’t me. But I know I wouldn’t have finished school without it.”
“He squeezed two rumpled N500 notes in my hand” — *Kenneth 32
*Kenneth’s first brush with sex-for-pay was driven by curiosity and desire for a BlackBerry phone. But after a 2go chatroom meetup left him feeling used and underpaid, he gave up chasing sugar daddies altogether.
“I had my first sex-for-pay experience during my post-secondary school days, when I was still writing JAMB and hustling for admission. Blackberry had just hit the streets, and I’d go on Facebook and see my former classmates posting pictures with their BBs, flexing in school. Me? I only had an old Alcatel phone that my uncle passed down to me.
Life was hard. 2go was the social app of the moment, so I’d spend hours chatting with strangers just to pass time. That’s how I met this older guy who seemed really pleasant. We got talking, and I noticed he looked well-off. All his photos were taken in flashy cars and in nice places on the island. In my head, I thought, “Jackpot — sugar daddy.”
It was normal in those days to go from chatting on 2go to planning a meetup in days. He eventually asked to see me, but I hesitated because he looked way older — probably in his 40s — and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. I eventually agreed and told my mum I had to go to the WAEC office. She gave me ₦500 for transport, and I headed out.
We met at a hotel. He was exactly how I imagined — older and well-dressed. Two other younger guys were in the room, but he asked them to leave. After a bit of small talk, we got down to business. Nothing intense — mostly touching. But when we were done, he picked up his phone, faked a call and said he was expecting someone. Basically, a polite way of telling me to get going.
As I stood to leave, he squeezed some cash into my hand and said, “Manage this.” I got outside, opened my hand and saw two wrinkled ₦500 notes. I felt like I’d been stabbed in the chest. Based on how he looked, I hadn’t asked for money directly, but I’d assumed I’d leave that hotel with something tangible.
That was the first and last time I went on that kind of high-effort, low-reward adventure. For a long time after that, I refused to believe sugar daddies were even real.”
“I made ₦70k and never looked back” — *Bella, 23
For Bella, her journey into transactional sex wasn’t intentional. One night of kink play turned into a stack of cash and a new side hustle.
“My first experience with transactional sex happened by accident. I’d been chatting with this woman online — we met through a kink/BDSM platform. We talked a lot and flirted a bit, but nothing serious. Then we finally met in person at a party in Lekki. One thing led to another — a few drinks, more flirting, some kissing — and she invited me back to her hotel. I said yes. We’d already shared pictures, so she wasn’t a stranger, just someone I was seeing for the first time.
She was older, and the sex was great. I’m a dom; she was a sub. We both knew the dynamic we were playing into. But after everything, I got up to leave, and she handed me a stack of cash, over ₦70k. I asked, “What’s this for?” and she said, “You’re a dom. I thought this was your rate. Is it not enough?” That’s when I realised she assumed I was a paid dom. I was shocked. I told her, “Damn, I would’ve fucked you for free.” But still, I wasn’t mad about the money.
Before that, I already had male submissives online, men I never met in person who’d send me money or gifts while I degraded them over text or audio. But after that night, I started taking it more seriously. I kept at it. It was fun, and I loved women, so getting paid to sleep with them didn’t feel like a big deal.
At my peak, I made close to half a million naira. One client paid me $200 just to video call him and drink something from a bottle — all he wanted to see was from my lips to my chest. That was it. Another time, I made almost the same in naira. It became a normal thing. I was constantly balling.
So why did I stop? I got overwhelmed. Most of my clients were male subs, and they’re very needy. I don’t like men enough to deal with that level of emotional demand. I was also juggling school, work and my mental health. It felt like one more thing I needed to take off my plate, so I let it go. No one found out — not my family, not even my closest friends. Funny thing is, I talked about it openly, but no one knew the full extent of what I was doing. Even my best friend only found out last year. I was in an open relationship, so people assumed I was just hanging out or dating people casually. They had no idea those people were paying clients.
I got tested regularly — I was always safe. But yeah, it was a chapter of my life that most people around me never truly understood.”
“I sold a blowjob for an AirPod replacement I didn’t even need” — *Gbemi, 22
*Gbemi didn’t plan to exchange intimacy for cash. But a Bumble date and a missing AirPod led to a ₦10k transaction she still feels sick about — especially because she found the AirPod hours later.
“There was a time in school when I lost my AirPods, and it shattered me. I was broke and couldn’t afford to replace them. Around that time, I matched with a guy on Bumble, and we agreed to meet up.
When I got to his place, we watched a movie, and he started talking about his feelings. In my head, I was like, “Guy, abeg, enough of the love talk. I’m only here to make out.”
We started kissing, and when I touched his dick, he said it felt really good. Then he asked for a blowjob. I said I couldn’t. But in that moment, I remembered my AirPods and used them as a bargaining chip. I told him I’d only give him what he wanted if he gave me money to replace them. He asked how much, I said ₦10k, and he agreed. Still, I made sure he transferred the money before I did anything.
On my way home, I felt sick to my stomach. I kept asking God to forgive me. The guilt weighed heavily, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, I got home and found the AirPods in my bag. The guy tried to see me again, but I never agreed to meet him.”
“It felt easier than begging” — *Seyi, 24
*Seyi’s run-in with transactional sex dates back to the 2020 coronavirus year where people lost their jobs. For her, selling sex was an easier option than hounding family and friends for handouts.
“I lost my job during the COVID years, and everything went downhill fast. Rent, feeding, black tax — everything became too much. A friend I’d known since secondary school who was into selling private sex videos said, “You know you’re fine, right? Some people are willing to pay for this.” It was a disgusting idea when she pitched. I knew she made a killing and had never judged her, but doing the same thing felt debasing in a way. But here’s the thing, the idea stuck once she put it in my head. I was already sharing nudes with my boyfriend, and I thought, why not make money from it? I didn’t have to meet anyone in person or reveal my identity.
Eventually, I got my friend to help me set up a private account, film content and started getting DMS. But even then, I wasn’t making enough. N20k here, N30k there, I just wasn’t hitting the right people. Again, my friend noticed, and that was when she came completely clean about meeting up with people —men, women— for sex. Again, I refused. It was too much for me, and that seemed extreme. I eventually agreed to meet an expatriate on the Island who wanted my friend and me at the same time. We spent a weekend with him, and it was worth it. We got half a million each. But after we left, I had this feeling of self loathing pour over me. The money felt like blood money, and I didn’t even spend it for some time. I turned down other requests from my friend and kept doing stuff online. I stopped around mid-2021. The requests kept getting weird, and people sent the most disgusting pictures and videos to my DM. It was a really crazy time, and a phase. It’s why I don’t judge the Yahwehs and Hydonni. They’re probably doing the best they can to get by.”
READ THIS TOO: The 22-Year-Old Who Met Over 100 Guys on Bumble
