Trigger Warning: This article contains recollections of drug and substance abuse. If you or someone you love struggles with substance abuse, please click here to access help.
No one ever thinks addiction will be the reason they lose the people they care about. It usually starts small — a habit you think you have under control. But before long, it becomes something you lie about, hide, and prioritise over your relationships. For some Nigerians, addiction didn’t just change their lives, it fractured their connections with partners, friends, and even their children.
In this piece, six Nigerians share how their addictions slowly ruined the relationships that once meant everything to them.
“My mum hates how much I drink.” — Ese* (24), F, Alcoholic
My battle with alcohol addiction is ongoing and has seriously affected my relationship with my mum. I’m the only child, and she’s hell-bent on not losing me to a random sickness or the other.
Because our family has a history of illnesses, my mum worries that I may develop organ complications, so she and I constantly butt heads over how much I drink. I’ve worked on it, and I no longer drink every day. I’m more of a social drinker now. Regardless, it has been a difficult journey.
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“My gambling addiction has ruined my relationship with my children.” — Jimi* (63), M, Gambler
I started gambling with a group of friends when I was a teen. At first, it was just small bets between friends, like who could run the fastest or who could do a backflip. Then, I started betting on football games at viewing centres. I won ₦350,000 from one of my bets in 2016, and I have been chasing that high since. I used to bet on football and basketball matches almost every day, but I haven’t won that much money since then.
In 2018, I lost the money for my last child’s university fees on a bet that didn’t pan out, and that incident has destroyed my relationship with my children. When my family found out, I had to beg my wife for months before she forgave me. My last child has forgiven me, but his two older siblings no longer speak to me. They said my irresponsibility disappointed them. I’m trying to get back into their good graces by winning it big, so I still bet once or twice a week. Something tells me that if I can just win a good amount from one of my bets, I can fix our relationship, and things will go back to how they used to be.
“My marijuana use made me lose the trust of those close to me.” — Feranmi* (24), Ex-Marijuana Addict
My weed use has damaged my relationships with my family, friends and lover. Last year was the peak of the chaos my addiction caused. Someone I loved found out I was using again even though I tried to keep it a secret and she said I made her feel stupid for trusting me. Her words cut deep.
My parents would be on edge every time I left the house because they didn’t know what version of me would come back home. I have close friends I don’t speak to anymore because I promised them I wouldn’t use anymore, but I went back. I’m lucky to be surrounded by people who not only sponsored me through treatment but also supported me through the hard phase of letting go of the guilt that came with my actions.
I have tried to make peace with the fact that there are some relationships that have been permanently damaged by the decisions I made while in active addiction. My goal now is to make better choices that reflect the new, clean me and make amends where I can.
“My porn addiction scattered my relationship.” — Deremi* (34), M, Ex-Porn Addict
Back when I was in uni, I was addicted to pornography, though I wasn’t aware that I was. I started watching porn when I was in secondary school. I stumbled on my uncle’s stash of magazines and got hooked. I used to masturbate at least once a day, and as I got older, the number increased to about four or five.
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It didn’t cause any issues in my personal life until I started dating during my service year. My girlfriend at the time was going through my phone and found the burner social media account I used to follow my favourite fifty or so porn pages. Her disgust hit like whiplash. She broke up with me a few weeks later because, according to her, I had a problem, and it wasn’t normal to masturbate four or five times a day. I promised to delete the account and reduce the masturbation, but she was unwilling to get back together with me. It was an eye-opening experience for me. I got some help from my church and eventually a therapist. I have stopped watching porn entirely.
“I got kicked out of school in my final year for smoking weed, and my parents won’t let me forget it.” — Demilade* (28), M, Marijuana Addict
I’ve always been under a lot of pressure from my family to do well in school. I started dealing with a lot of anxiety, and when I was in SS3, a friend suggested weed as a way to relieve some of the stress. I got hooked on the feeling pretty quickly. I attended a private university where the consequence of getting caught with weed was immediate expulsion. But I still found ways to get my hands on some weed to smoke. I tried to be careful, and I did a great job avoiding the authorities until my final year.
Just a few days before my final exam, I got caught smoking with some other guys and got expelled. My parents have never forgiven me for it. Our relationship is very strained, even though I have completed my degree at another school. My mum constantly suspects she’s smelling weed around the house, even though I have never smoked at home. I’ve gone to rehab once, but I still smoke weed to take the edge off every now and again. I don’t know if I can stop completely.
“I lost all my friends because I couldn’t stop using colos.” — Dili* (31), M, Ex-Colos Addict
All my friends from uni stopped talking to me because I was addicted to colos. It’s a synthetic type of weed that’s popular among street guys. The high was intense and mind-numbing; I loved it. The issue was that when I got high, the drug had the tendency to make me black out and act crazy. I would convulse and vomit or start seeing hallucinations and screaming. After embarrassing my friends a few times at the parties we attended, they started steering clear of me.
Once, they had to tie me down with ropes because I kept saying I wanted to meet my friends at the bottom of a swimming pool while at a pool party. A friend recorded it and sent it to my parents, who immediately put me in rehab. I’m better now and I’m totally off the drug. I regret not stopping earlier, I lost some of my most precious relationships because of it. I just thank God, I’m on a better path now.
If you’ve enjoyed the previous editions of our Nigeria’s Current Affairs quiz (editions 1, 2,3, and 4), you’ll love this edition even more. From major political moments to key decisions shaping Nigeria today, this 15-question quiz will challenge how well you really know the country’s political landscape.
Ready to flex your muscles again?
[quiz id=351835]
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Sunken Ships is a Zikoko weekly series that explores the how and why of the end of all relationships — familial, romantic or just good old friendships.
Business and pleasure shouldn’t mix, but when Tiwa* (21) met her colleague Bidemi* (24), the spark was too strong to ignore.
Flirty texts became a full-blown, exclusive office romance until the presence of a very attached flatmate scattered everything Tiwa thought she knew about their relationship.
Let’s start at the beginning. Where did you guys meet?
We met at the office in October 2023, when she joined as a graduate intern. She’s masc presenting, dresses well and is very good-looking, and I was immediately smitten. I strategically positioned myself to be her friend in the office, so I would compliment her anytime we ran into each other in the cafe.
Aw, that’s so cute. How did that initial attraction grow into a relationship?
Apparently, she had been noticing me around the office as well, but she was too shy to approach me. Once, while we were leaving the office, one of her friends gingered her to collect my phone number, and that’s how we started talking. We didn’t start dating immediately; we just flirted heavily.
What were the early days like?
It was hot and cold. We’d flirt a lot on the phone, but she would be withdrawn when I saw her at work, so I ghosted her for a bit.
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Whoa, wasn’t that extreme?
Not to me. I didn’t expect her to be clingy at work, but she wouldn’t even publicly acknowledge me, which was weird. I figured I’d hear her out when she was ready to be more mature about what we were doing.
How did she take it?
Her reaction was so cute. She came to my office block, which was far from hers, and demanded a lunch date to talk things over.
That sounds delightful.
Yeah, we moved pretty quickly from then. We went on many more lunch dates at the office. Our coworkers even began to suspect our closeness because we always hung out or stayed at the office to talk. But we didn’t care, we had each other, and we loved it. Cracks started appearing in our relationship after a while.
Tell me what happened.
Things got more serious between us, and Bidemi started getting jealous. I’m not a very jealous person, but she wanted me to cut off other romantic interests. I didn’t mind doing this, but the problem was that she wasn’t willing to do the same. I disliked the double standard. It led to some fights between us, and we broke up for a month.
Oh no.
We missed each other so much that we started texting again. Before you know it, texting meant going on a movie date, which ended at her place with me in her bed. And just like that, we were back together.
Why did you agree to get back together with her?
I couldn’t stand having her sound the way she did with me with anyone else. The sex was amazing, and it clouded my better judgment. She asked me out when we were done, and I said yes. We became exclusive that day and continued our relationship. I thought this meant we were stronger than ever, but we kept having fights.
What did you guys fight about?
When we became exclusive, I cut off everyone I was talking to and focused on my babe. I expected her to do the same, but she didn’t. I even tried to accommodate her by not getting upset at her constant flirting with other people. She wasn’t seeing them, right? I was so wrong.
Little did I know that the major problem in our relationship would be her flatmate, Sarah*. They had moved in together a year ago during their NYSC. I didn’t have an issue with that, but my main problem was that Sarah was obviously in love with Bidemi, which caused a lot of friction in our relationship.
Can you give me an example?
I have too many. Bidemi would leave in the middle of dates to care for Sarah if she had cramps. Bidemi once left my house at 2:00 am because Sarah was scared that someone had broken in. It used to make my brain itch at how ready she was to drop everything for this babe. How does a five-foot-something babe want to protect you from an intruder?
Did you ever try to bring this up with Bidemi?
I never pushed too hard because I thought Sarah was straight and their friendship was close. I didn’t want to be the evil girlfriend telling her babe to cut off her friends. I held my peace until December 2024, when everything scattered.
What happened that December?
I gave Bidemi a surprise visit for our first year anniversary and walked into a heartbreaking sight. Bidemi and Sarah were having a genital meet and greet. To make matters worse, my girlfriend was being topped — a thing she never let me do.
That must have been awful.
It was so bad. I told Sarah off for coming between Bidemi and me, and surprisingly, she changed it for me. She said I was the one who came between her and Bidemi. She said they had been together since they got a place together, and Bidemi was only with me because she wanted to prove a point.
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Ah. What was Bidemi saying in all this?
She just kept telling me to leave and that she would see me later. She said it wasn’t what I thought it was. I barged out, and that was the end for me in my mind.
Did Bidemi ever reach out after that?
Yeah, she came to my house a week after, and I asked to clear up the entire drama. It was then that she admitted that she was polyamorous and was nurturing multiple relationships.
How did you respond to that?
I just laughed. I thought it was so convenient to get caught cheating and start claiming polyamory. We had sex one last time — it was amazing— and I cut off all contact with her.
I love that you stood on business. Has she tried to hit you up after that?
She tries every once in a while, but I shut it down, abeg. I can’t be with someone so emotionally chaotic and dishonest. I’m focused on myself right now and loving it.
If you want us to share your own Sunken Ships story, fill out this form!
For seven years, *Ismatu, 40, ran a thriving poultry business in the North. She raised chickens in batches and made about ₦500k every eight weeks. When her family decided to relocate to the South in 2024, she moved with them and her life savings: ₦2 million.
She thought she could restart the business anywhere. But she didn’t expect a wildly different market or everything she built to fall apart so fast.
As told to Aisha Bello
I built a poultry business in the North that paid for my children’s school fees, fed my family, and funded two master’s degrees. Then, I relocated to the South with ₦2 million to start over and lost it all.
I started poultry farming in 2013 with about 20 broiler birds, mainly for family consumption. At the time, I worked as an operations officer at an environmental and waste agency, where I earned ₦120,000/month. But I soon realised that raising birds wasn’t just sustainable, but also profitable.
Back then, day-old chicks cost ₦20 to ₦30, and a bag of feed went for ₦800. After six to eight weeks of feeding, medication, and care, I’d spend about ₦700 per bird and resell them between ₦1,000 and ₦1,200. That margin gave me my first real taste of business.
Still, I couldn’t grow it the way I wanted. My husband constantly complained about the foul smell and mess from the birds.
Our marriage was already strained, and things escalated into physical violence. One day, he beat me so severely that I fainted and ended up in the hospital. That was the final straw. In 2018, I divorced him and moved in with my mum and three children.
I also lost my job around that time. I had been transferred to a new office, but I was emotionally drained and grieving my marriage. I couldn’t cope, so I resigned.
After a few months of healing, I finally had the freedom to build my life on my own terms.
I invested ₦200,000 to build a big pen behind my mother’s house. By then, chicks cost ₦500. Raising one bird to maturity cost me about ₦8,000 in total. Depending on size and demand, I sold them between ₦11,000 and ₦13,000 each.
The pen could hold up to 150 birds per batch, and I’d raise them for 6–8 weeks.
Losses were normal — bird flu, weak chicks — but I never lost my capital, even though up to 25 birds died every cycle. Sometimes, I even had overlapping batches, raising one set while selling another.
I understood the market because I had lived in the North almost all my life. We lived in a predominantly Christian area, so Sundays were always good sales days. But my real advantage was selling wholesale. I built relationships with retailers and market sellers who came directly to my pen every cycle. They knew when to call and buy in bulk.
The model worked perfectly. I made an average of ₦500,000 profit every 8 weeks, and up to ₦750,000 during festive periods. I repeated this cycle four times a year, and that was my rhythm for the next seven years.
With the income, I paid school fees, fed my children, and returned to school. I already had an HND, so I completed a top-up programme to earn a bachelor’s degree in human resources. After that, I went on to earn a master’s in public administration, a postgraduate diploma in management, and eventually a Master of Philosophy in Leadership as preparation for a PhD.
Along the line, I got a job as an administrative officer at a private school, earning ₦80,000/month. Between the salary and the business, we were fine. My ex-husband never paid child support, but I didn’t need him. I could afford our life on my own.
Then, in 2024, everything changed.
My mother retired from her job as a secondary school principal and wanted to move back to our hometown in the South. We decided to relocate together. “Your business can work anywhere,” they said. It sounded logical at the time.
I had approximately ₦2 million in savings from my business, and was optimistic about replicating my success.
A few months into settling down, I built a new poultry pen. It cost ₦600,000. I spent another ₦100,000 on feed cans, drinkers, and water. A day-old chick now costs ₦1,950, and I stocked 150 birds for about ₦300,000. After adding medication, feeding, and logistics, I had invested ₦1.2 million into the business.
I cared for the birds as usual. The death toll wasn’t alarming, but sales barely moved. I couldn’t find any bulk buyers. Everyone around here wanted to buy one chicken at a time, and at bargain prices.
Eventually, I sold off that batch, but it took time, and the profit barely came together. It’s hard to reinvest with retail buyers because you don’t get your money in one chunk.
Still, I tried again, this time with 100 birds. But the outcome was worse. After 8 weeks, many birds remained unsold, eating more feed and piling on losses.
I was already running out of capital.
Ismatu’s Abandoned Poultry Pen.
So, I paused the business and took a job as an admin officer at a private school, but they paid ₦36,000 and expected me to work as a kindergarten assistant. That couldn’t sustain me, so I quit.
I kept applying for admin roles, but what shocked me the most was how often I was told I was overqualified because of my degrees, and that they simply couldn’t afford to pay me what I was worth. I’ve been stuck in that loop ever since.
In October 2024, I decided to give poultry one last shot. December sales had always been my most profitable window in the North, and I hoped it would save the business.
With the last ₦400,000 I had, I bought 200 birds and went all in. By December, some had grown large enough to fetch ₦17,000 to ₦18,000 each. I hoped I could make at least ₦1 million and bounce back.
But that was the worst death toll I’d ever seen.
Nearly 50 of the biggest birds died. Sales were still stagnant. In the North, customers bought chickens into the New Year. Here, I didn’t even sell 100. What little money I recovered barely covered the cost of feed, and started eating into my capital.
I gave up.
I kept about 50 birds to prepare for my son’s graduation and haven’t returned to poultry since.
I’m currently living off support from my family. I’m still trying to get another admin job and keep my family afloat.
If I ever raise enough capital again, I’ll start another business, but not blindly. I’ll take my time to study the market here. If I ever return to poultry, it’ll be a smarter, better-informed comeback.
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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.
Whether it’s a job, a relationship, or just the way someone looks on Instagram, jealousy has a way of creeping into even the closest friendships. For most people, the feeling is uncomfortable, and sometimes a little shameful.
In this story, five people open up to Zikoko about the moments jealousy reared its head in their friendships and how they handled it.
“I didn’t notice that the jealousy was building till I caught myself comparing her Instagram photos to mine.” — Jemima* 26, F
Jemima* started going to the gym to get fit and feel better but she began feeling jealous of her gym buddy when she wasn’t seeing results as fast as she would have liked.
“I know people say jealousy is a normal feeling but it’s such a jarring thing to feel towards your friend. In 2021, I and a good friend became gym buddies. We both had body goals we were working towards and tried to motivate each other. By 2022, my friend had smashed her goals and was looking great while I had gained more weight. I didn’t notice that the jealousy was building till I caught myself comparing her Instagram photos to mine.
I didn’t talk to her about it though, I was afraid of how she would take it if I spoke up about feeling jealous. Instead, I took my time to work on my insecurities privately because it wasn’t her fault that I thought she looked better than me.”
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“I got jealous when my best friend started dating my crush.” — Remi*, 30, F
Remi* had never been jealous of her friends until her bestie started dating her uni crush. She shares how an honest conversation years after helped her resolve the feeling.
“My best friend started dating someone I had a massive crush on in uni. I pretended to be fine with it, but inside, I was boiling. I introduced them, and she knew how much I liked him. It got to a point where I stopped replying to her texts because it felt like she was throwing it in my face. We tried to talk it out, but harsh words were exchanged, and we stopped being close for a few years. We reconnected in 2020, had an honest conversation about it, and rekindled our friendship. In the gap when we weren’t close, I had to learn that jealousy is a normal feeling. It doesn’t make me a bad person, I just needed a space to be honest about my feelings. I’m glad our friendship survived that.”
“I was jealous of my friends because because I’m a late bloomer” — Abraham*, 26, M
Abraham* shares how his slow development compared to his mates led hi to jealousy and how sharing his feelings with a friend helped him feel better.
“I would say I’m a late bloomer. My parents experienced a financial downturn right after I finished secondary school, so I watched all my friends go to university and graduate while I stayed working menial odd jobs to keep body and soul together. It’s not like I wasn’t happy for them, I just wished that good things would happen to me too.
It was this month that I finally found a safe space to share how I felt with my closest friend, and it made me feel so much better. He didn’t judge me or try to make it seem like I didn’t want the best for him. He’s been sending me free online courses I can take when I’m off work. I hope to get my first certification by mid-2026.”
“My jealousy rose when my best friend moved abroad and made new friends.” — Mike*, 28, M
Mike* was happy when his best friend moved abroad for school but started getting feelings of jealousy when he felt like he was being replaced.
“I don’t think jealousy makes you a bad person if you handle it correctly. My closest friend moved out of Nigeria in 2015 and watching him settle into his new American life made me really happy. A few months after, he started making friends and I felt like I was being pushed out of his new life. Our texts dwindled and we didn’t speak for months but one day, he called me and asked why I had been distant.
I shared my fears about being replaced and ho he made me feel. I thought he would get upset but he reassured me immediately. It was like a weight was taken off my back. If you feel jealous of your friend, I think you shout give talking it out a shot. It resolves more than you think.”
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“I got jealous when she got a job before I did” — Kemi*, 29, F
Kemi* and her friend started job hunting together to keep each other motivated. Kemi’s feelings started to change when she noticed she was the only one sharing job applications.
“A friend and I had been job hunting together since the start of the year. I would share any job openings I saw so that we would both apply, but I noticed she hardly sent any to me. Then last month, she called me in the middle of the night, asking me to help her with an assessment test for a job she never told me she applied for. I helped her out, and she got hired almost imediately. I felt really jealous that, despite her not being as open-handed as I was with the job applications, she got a job before I did.
I didn’t like the feeling, and I kept my distance until I felt more in control of my emotions. I didn’t raise the issue with her either, before it seemed like I wasn’t happy for her.”
Gone are the days when masculinity was marked by how little attention men paid to their hair. In today’s Nigerian entertainment scene, celebrity hairstyles for men are doing the talking.
From intricate braids and dyed curls to creative fades and full-blown locs, Nigerian male celebrities have been turning their hair into statements for years. Every hairstyle feels like a mood, a statement, or just premium hot boy shenanigans.
Thinking of switching things up or just want to know what’s trending? Here’s your visual guide to 20 of the most iconic Nigerian celebrity hairstyles for men to show your barber in 2025.
The AG Low Cut
This men’s haircut has been around for generations, and it’s still a banger.
Why it works: This haircut details a razor-sharp lineup around the forehead. Combined with the full beard, it gives an attractive look.
Try it if: You’re looking for a clean, classic haircut that’s also low maintenance.
The Asake Afro Raw
This haircut is the popular style called Afro around here—fuzzy, natural and sharp.
Why it works: The shape of the Afro brings out the beauty of the hair texture. It draws attention to the face, allowing unique features to shine.
Try it if: You like low-maintenance cuts that deliver high-style impact.
The Asake Grid Twist
This is a cool hairstyle for men with curly hair that isn’t long and twistable.
Why it works: This hairstyle marries the sharp lines of the sectioned scalp with the short locs. The spikes, boxes and clean sides ensure the overall look is always sharp and intentional.
Try it if: You want to try a fresh style of locs.
The Baddo Loc Crown
Head-full, thick, free-flowing dreadlocks currently reign as a champion among Nigerian men’s hairstyles.
Why it works: Because it’s long, these locs can be styled in countless ways—pulled back, tied up, left free, or even adorned. This makes this hairstyle versatile for different moods and occasions.
Try it if: You want to showcase the natural evolution of your locs.
The Bhadboi Flame Top
This unpopular, flame-shaped haircut is beyond grooming. It’s a work of art for men with “main character energy.”
Why it works: This one is immediately memorable among the multitudes of common haircuts because of its flame pattern.
Try it if: You want a haircut that’s more than looking good. This is what to go for if you’re looking for a distinctive and trendsetting hairstyle.
The Bhadboi Roller Coaster
This hairstyle pushes boundaries for bold men.
Why it works: Placing rollers at the front and centre of a man’s head challenges gender and conventional beauty standards. This hairstyle is an editorial fashion shoot brought to life.
Try it if: Your style is already pushing boundaries with clothes and accessories.
The Burna Braided Locs
One of the most popular haircuts for men right now is sharp, clean, and easy to pull off.
Why it works: It perfectly combines the neat and structured style of cornrows and the laid-back, free-flowing locs/twists style.
Try it if: You want a fresh cut that keeps your natural texture visible.
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The Director K’s Box Fade
This natural and kinky haircut is known as royal box fade, AKA Afro Edge. It’s neat, natural, full, and unapologetically afro.
Why it works: You can let the afro go wild and free or pick out a pattern that works for you.
Try it if: You like a haircut that’s both formal and casual, but also maintains sharp edges even on your most lazy days.
The Fido Spikes
This is one of the most unique hairstyles at the moment. It’s textured, spiky, and highly individualistic.
Why it works: You can keep the simplest appearance, but you’re still the main character with this hair.
Try it if: You’ve got a creative bone in your body. It shows you’re not afraid to experiment, to be playful, and to own your aesthetic.
The Fireboy Knots
This hairstyle screams individuality and borrows from the cultural Bantu knots.
Why it works: A coily hair twisted tightly onto itself not only showcases your texture, but it also celebrates your black hair in its most natural form.
Try it if: You want something that keeps you outstanding in a sea of low-cuts and popular braids.
The Osimhen Gold Top Fade
This haircut isn’t new, but it still rules. A crisp, clean high skin fade on the sides and back, smoothly blended down to bare skin and dyed to give flavour.
Why it works: It’s clean, sharp, and the dyed top adds a youthful and fashion-forward edge without being over the top.
Try it if: You want a textured buzz or low-cut style with a choice dye that matches your drip.
The Prettyboy Crown
This is a popular men’s hairstyle too—full and coily afro.
Why it works: While seemingly simple, the volume and texture of the hair allow for a cool and casual look.
Try it if: You want a simple and youth-centric hairstyle that you can quickly wash and dry before going about your day.
The Prettyboy Skull
Men’s hairstyles that combine dying and drawing are slowly gaining momentum—edgy, custom and artsy.
Why it works: This hairstyle works well because it’s tailored to the wearer. It’s punky, modern and provokes a reaction.
Try if it: You thrive on being unique and having personal style.
The Seyi Vibez Platinum Afro Buzz
This hairstyle looks like a ‘90s throwback—bold and purely self-expressive.
Why it works: It’s short, kinky hair, cut to the same length, forming a neat and textured halo around the head. But the real showstopper is the colour—it’s eye-catching.
Try it if: You want a haircut that can stay loose and blow in the air and ready to be a conversation starter.
The Starboy Fade
This haircut is popular among men—short and natural.
Why it works: This hairstyle works because it’s a modern classic that transcends trends.
Try it if: You want a hairstyle that shows your hair texture and requires minimal daily styling effort.
The TG Razor
This hairstyle feels vintage but with a 2025 twist—sharp, artsy and captivating.
Why it works: Its meticulous carvings and patterns elevate your face card and give a polished appearance.
Try it if: You’re looking for a fresh cut that brings back old-school flair.
Love Life is a Zikoko weekly series about love, relationships, situationships, entanglements and everything in between.
*Chris (28) and *Feranmi (27) first noticed each other on Grindr while serving in Ibadan in 2021, but didn’t talk for weeks until boredom changed everything.
On this week’s Love Life, they talk about how an impulsive text sparked a relationship that survived NYSC flings, moving in together in Lagos, drifting apart when life got hard, and learning to grow together.
If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this form.
What’s your earliest memory of each other?
Chris: It was in April 2021, during an NYSC CDS meeting in Ibadan. Before then, I’d seen Feranmi’s profile on Grindr multiple times but never messaged. Most people I met on there just wanted sex. It was always, “Are you top or bottom? When can we meet?” So boring.
One Saturday in March, I was bored, so I messaged his account and he responded almost immediately. It seemed like he’d been lowkey waiting for me to text him.
Feranmi: I remember that day. I didn’t take Grindr seriously in Ibadan, especially for security reasons. I’m a Lagos boy; I didn’t want to get kitoed in another state. But when Chris messaged me, we chatted for almost an hour before he even asked anything flirty. That was generally rare on Grindr, Ibadan or not. So, we got into this drawn-out conversation.
What did you talk about for that long?
Chris: It started with Feranmi asking what I was doing, and I told him I was looking for a new series to binge. He suggested one, we started talking about movies we liked, and then somehow, NYSC entered the chat. That’s when we found out we were both serving in Ibadan.
Feranmi: The conversation felt really engaging, not forced like usual convos that barely made it past pleasantries and role inquiries. After that, he said we should meet at the next monthly CDS.
How did that first meeting go? Did you both show up for CDS?
Feranmi: Yes we did. Before then, we had not exchanged pictures because we didn’t want to jinx it. Conversations tend to tank on Grindr once you guys exchange photos, and we didn’t want that. After Chris got to the secretariat, he texted, “Are you around? I’m wearing a brown face cap.” I just looked for the guy in a cap, and we shook hands like two regular dudes. We hung out the whole day after that, gisting and people-watching.
Chris: I knew instantly he wasn’t like the others I’d met. There was an immediate chemistry, and a sense of comfort I couldn’t explain. I think the word is “familiar stranger”. But yeah, after CDS, we said our goodbyes and promised to hang out in a more relaxed environment.
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Did that happen?
Chris: Quicker than we both expected. We got home that Friday and actually flirted for the first time. I think he said something about wanting to grab my ass so bad but had to respect boundaries since we’d only just met.
Feranmi: I told him I’d have let him. And like that, we planned another meet-up one week later at my place. We had an intense make out session that we both really needed. It had been two months plus of not getting laid in Ibadan, and we unleashed all the pent up tension on each other.
Must have been fun. How did things move from that second meeting to being together?
Chris: Honestly, we didn’t define anything. It started with sleepovers. I’d spend weekends at his place, or he’d come over. At first, it was a lot of sex, no lies. But then, we’d end up cooking together, watching films, and talking about random stuff. This continued for seven or eight months. By the time NYSC ended, it was obvious we weren’t just hookups anymore, even though we didn’t have the official dating tag.
Feranmi: We didn’t even have a proper “Will you date me?” talk. It just happened. We met each other’s friends in Ibadan, did almost everything together. By the end of 2021, everyone knew us as the NYSC besties, and we played along. Only my queer friends knew we were an item, though. To my parents, siblings and straight friends, Chris was my gift of friendship from NYSC. I remember my dad saying “ You better hold him tight. NYSC gave me some of my lifelong friendships,” when I posted pictures from our POP. That was super cute. In my head, I was like, “If only daddy knew.”
Right. You mentioned NYSC ended. What changed after that?
Feranmi: I moved back to Lagos for work. My parents already got me a role in the family business, so I didn’t have the chance to pick or delay my stay in Ibadan. Chris stayed back for his master’s, and that was when things got funny. Long distance humbled us.
Chris: At first, we really tried to make it work. We’d plan FaceTime dates and end up dozing off mid-call because we were both exhausted. We promised to visit each other once a month, but even that became hard. I remember one time I saved up to come to Lagos for a long weekend, but my supervisor scheduled a last-minute seminar and I had to cancel. We fought about that for days.
Feranmi: I get moody when I feel ignored. So, sometimes when he called, I wouldn’t pick up immediately. Or I’d reply late on WhatsApp on purpose. It was messy. We still talked, but the vibe was off. We’d both pretend we were fine, but deep down, we knew it wasn’t the same.
Chris: We even tried to spice things up — like planning staycations whenever I was in Lagos. We’d pick a cheap hotel, buy food and drinks, have lots of sex and get lost in each other. It helped, but the poor communication cycle continued once I got back to Ibadan. It was tough.
Did you guys consider breaking up?
Chris: Not really, but it felt like we were on the edge sometimes. We argued about stupid things: who should travel to visit who, why someone didn’t pick up their phone. There was a time I thought, maybe this is dying. But then we’d meet again, spend a weekend together, and remember why we liked each other.
Feranmi: We both liked each other clearly, and we just needed to figure out the long distance. I wasn’t going to break up, at least not until he was done with his master’s and fully back in Lagos. I’d be convinced we were over if we were still having the same issues. The visits helped a lot, honestly.
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When did things get better?
Feranmi: I’d say late 2023, when Chris finally finished his master’s and moved back to Lagos. He didn’t want to return to his parents’ house and hadn’t saved enough to rent his own place. I’d rented a mini-flat earlier in the year and I had enough space for both of us, so I asked him to move in.
Chris: I didn’t even think twice. I’d been craving that closeness again, so I moved in almost immediately. That said, I did have some worries. You know how they say you never really know people until you’ve lived with them. I wasn’t sure what part of each other we would uncover, plus as much as he was offering to help, I couldn’t help feeling like I was encroaching on his space. It’s one thing to visit for a weekend or a week and leave, it’s another thing to move in fully without contributing anything to rent. But I kept this to myself; I didn’t tell Feranmi.
Why?
Chris: He offered me the chance to move in on his own accord. Saying all that might have come off as projecting, and I didn’t want to be that person who questions kindness, especially from someone I considered dear to my heart. I guess it was just my mind playing games on me. Anyway, I moved in November 2023.
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And how did living together go?
Feranmi: Let me just say that with distance, it’s easy to avoid some conversations. Living together means seeing everything: the good, bad, and annoying.
Chris: God abeg. Everything scattered and rearranged itself. Suddenly, I realised how different our daily lives were. I’m the neat freak; Feranmi can forget his clothes anywhere. I’m the type to plan groceries and cook; he’ll wake up and decide shawarma is dinner three nights straight.
Feranmi: I actually hate routine, but Chris loves it. At first, it caused small fights. He’d nag about dishes in the sink, and I’d complain he was too controlling about what we should eat. But gradually, we learnt to adjust — or ignore the small stuff. And about sex, I used to think living together would turn us into rabbits, but it was the opposite. I was too tired from work most days, and Chris wasn’t in the mood. He was mostly sad about rejection emails, and buried himself in scholarship applications. We realised we needed to be intentional about other ways to feel connected — so, more talking, cuddling, random movie dates when possible.
Chris: And giving each other space, too. Living together doesn’t mean being in each other’s faces 24/7. I think that’s what saved us from killing each other.
Speaking of, have you guys had a major fight yet?
Feranmi: We’ve had a few. One that I remember closely was about chores. After work, I’d be too tired to wash the plates or sweep. I’d tell myself, “I’ll do it tomorrow,” but I wouldn’t. By morning, Chris would be fuming.
Chris: It wasn’t even about the mess; it was more about how it made me feel. I’d just finished my master’s, but I had no job yet, and I was basically squatting in Feranmi’s house. So I thought he left things undone because he saw me as the “jobless one” who should clean up. It built up resentment I didn’t know how to communicate. One night, we argued so badly that I packed a bag and went to crash at a friend’s.
Feranmi: I was shocked. I didn’t know it was that bad to warrant him sleeping out. He called me from there and ranted about how I was making him feel like a houseboy, and I didn’t even know what to say because there were some truths to his argument. It didn’t matter if my actions were intentional or not.
Chris: And then there was an episode with his childhood friend. Feranmi said he needed a week in Lagos for an interview. Fine. But our place is small; so small that we all ended up on the same bed. I’d wake up at 2 a.m. and see the guy curled up next to Feranmi, sometimes so close it felt like they were spooning. Once, I swear he touched me by mistake. It made my skin crawl. But because I was the “squatter”, I didn’t feel I could say much without sounding ungrateful. When we talked, everything I feared happened. He said I was asking him not to extend kindness to other people in his life.
How did you resolve these issues, and what did they teach you about handling conflict in your relationship?
Feranmi: After that fight, I had to check myself. I realised I was taking advantage of the fact that Chris didn’t really have a say because technically, it was “my” house. It wasn’t fair. We sat down and talked about how to share the load. Now we divide chores properly, and we pay someone to clean for weeks when work is hectic.
The thing with the friend — I knew Chris was uncomfortable, but he didn’t say it outright. He bottled it up until it blew. I think that taught both of us that silence is dangerous. Now, if something annoys me, I don’t wait. I say it, even if it’s awkward.
Chris: For me, it was humbling. I had to learn that leaving resentment to fester does more damage than just saying, “Hey, I don’t like this.” I was so focused on not wanting to look like the ungrateful squatter that I made myself miserable.
These days, I don’t keep things. I speak up if I feel a certain way, and Feranmi listens. Same for him. It’s made us fight less and understand each other faster. Living together is still chaotic sometimes, but at least we’re honest about our feelings. That’s our biggest win so far.
Fair enough. Are your families aware that you live together? Particularly, are they aware of this relationship?
Feranmi: Not exactly. My parents think Chris is just my good friend from NYSC who needed a place in Lagos for a while. It helps that he’s polite and respectful whenever they visit, so they don’t suspect anything. My siblings probably know, but everyone minds their business.
Chris: Same here. My folks think I got a place with a “friend” from Ibadan who also moved to Lagos. It’s easier that way than explaining that I moved in with my boyfriend. But sometimes it’s weird, you know? We do all this to protect ourselves, but it means hiding one of the best parts of my life.
I hope one day we won’t have to pretend.
What’s the best thing about being with each other?
Chris: Coming home to someone who gets you. After a bad day, we lie on the floor, watch trash TV and laugh. He’s my peace.
Feranmi: Same for me. Life is chaotic, but I can forget everything when we are together. Plus, Chris is super smart, funny and kind. I like him a lot.
Sweet. How would you rate your love life on a scale of 1-10?
Feranmi: I’ll say 9 because no matter what, it feels good to know that this is my person.
Chris: 8. The missing two is because we still fight about chores, and I wish we could be free in public.
*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.
What does it mean to be great at sex? It’s not about having a long list of conquests; it’s about knowing how to have sex in a way that makes someone come apart in your arms and remember you years later.
We asked 10 Nigerians to link us with their greatest of all time (GOAT) sex partners and then got those legends to clue us in on how to have sex in a way that earns you ‘GOAT’ status on a lover’s list.
Here’s what they had to say:
1. Try dirty talk
“When you talk dirty, you can literally feel her body react to it. It’s a great experience on both sides” — GOAT: George*, 27, Straight
Dirty talk doesn’t have to be cringey. George recommends keeping your voice low, asking questions mid-act, and being clear about what you’re doing and how it’s making you feel. “Especially if they don’t expect it, it heightens everything.”
Ada*, 29, met George on Twitter during the lockdown. Their online attraction simmered until restrictions lifted, and they finally met in person. Their first encounter? Unforgettable.
“Every time he went down on me was mind-blowing. He kissed my thighs all the way up to my vagina, and every kiss and lick felt intentional. But the hottest part? He started talking dirty when I was close. I came almost immediately. I highly recommend it.” — Ada
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2. Don’t be afraid to touch your partner
“Explore your partner’s body, don’t just rush in for the orgasms. ” — GOAT: Midun*, 27, Lesbian
People think their focus during sex should only be on obvious areas like genitals and erogenous zones like nipples. Midun recommends that you explore your partner’s body to find other, often unexpected, hot spots that’ll increase how enjoyable the sex is.
Sarah* met Midun at a picnic in 2022, and they started an on-again, off-again relationship that Sarah can’t stop going back to.
“The emotional connection I feel with Sarah is undeniable. When we have sex, it’s never rushed. She touches me like she’s savouring every inch of me to enjoy later. Sometimes, she’ll take a break from kissing my lips to my neck or the inside of my elbow, and it drives me wild.” — Sarah
3. Say their name to drive them crazy
“Saying their name during sex helps you both stay in the moment” — GOAT: Michael*, 32, Straight
When Michael saw the strong reaction one of his past sex partners had when he moaned her name, he knew he had struck gold.
Adaeze* has been dating Michael for over a year. And while she’s had other sexual partners before him, she says none compare to the way he makes her feel, all because of how he says her name during sex.
“He calls my name. It sounds so basic, but during sex, it does something to me. He whispers it, moans it, groans it like I’m the only person that’s ever existed. It makes me feel wanted and seen. I’ve had men do the most — dirty talk, praise kinks, even roleplay — but no one’s ever made me feel the way I do when he breathes ‘Adaeze’ into my ear just before he cums.” — Adaeze
“If you’re going to choke someone, never grab or cradle” — GOAT: Tayo*, 26, Straight
There’s a technique to it, though; you don’t just go in and grab your partner’s neck like a villain in a horror flick. According to Tayo, the correct way to do it is to:
Use the palm of your hand against their throat, not your fingers.
Apply light pressure to the sides, not the windpipe.
Maintain eye contact and pause if they seem uncertain.
Ensure they feel held, not hurt, by balancing intensity with softness.
Follow a choke with a kiss to turn discomfort into pleasure.
Amaka* met Tayo at a colleague’s house party. They flirted, danced, and exchanged numbers. Weeks later, they started texting heavily. Then one evening, after watching a movie and sharing a bottle of red wine, things got heated.
“I remember him asking if he could kiss me. It was slow at first, then really intense. The kind of kiss where your toes curl. I was the one who pulled him on top of me. Clothes flew. Hands everywhere. But what stood out was when I was moaning too loud and he suddenly wrapped his hand around my neck. It wasn’t rough, just firm.
He held my gaze the whole time. Then, when I started to tremble — I was cumming — he kissed me again, deeply, still holding my neck. It was like my entire body shut down from pleasure. I came, hard. And he just held me and whispered, “You good?” Nobody has ever made me feel that good. That moment is why I stayed longer than I should have in that situationship.” — Amaka
5. Let him finish in your mouth
“If you’re going down on a guy and want to blow his mind, let him finish” — GOAT: Victor*, 26, Gay
Victor advises keeping your mouth there until your partner finishes. Resist the urge to stop right before he orgasms.
Kenneth*’s first queer sex experience was with Victor. They started as uni coursemates, became friends, then something more. Kenneth still considers their first time the best sex of his life.
“Most people think blow jobs end just before orgasm, but that’s the best part. If you’re comfortable with it, keep going as he comes. Don’t stop unless he asks you to. Place your hands on his thighs or lower back to keep him grounded. And don’t rush to spit or wipe, let him feel held in that moment. Keep sucking even after he cums, there’s an insane sensation he feels just before his penis goes completely limp. That’s what makes it unforgettable.” — Kenneth
“60% of what will drive your partner crazy during sex doesn’t happen in bed.” — GOAT:*Debisi, 26, Lesbian
People often focus so much on the act of sex that they overlook the crucial buildup that makes it even more enjoyable. Debisi treats foreplay like part of the main event, not a warm-up. And she advises, “Give your babe something to look forward to. Heighten her anticipation with lingering kisses, quick touches, and longing looks.”
Busayo*, 28, has been dating Debisi for a year and calls it the best sex of her life. No contest.
“Debisi works remotely, and sometimes before I leave for work, she’ll give me the wettest, deepest kiss and whisper in my ear, ‘We’ll finish this tonight.’ Aside from it being hot as hell, the anticipation of what we’ll do in the evening puts a pep in my step until I see her again. When we’re finally together, she kisses, licks and nuzzles me until I’m begging for more. Every moment spent with her is an experience.” — Busayo
7. Bring their fantasies to life
“If you’ve been together for a while, throw in something new to spice things up” — GOAT: Ayomide*, 27, Straight
Ayomide suggests keeping sex with long-term partners fresh by trying new things. “Tell her to share one of her fantasies with you and then make it come true. You’ll have her melting in your arms like ice cream.”
Somi*, 29, met Ayomide in a WhatsApp group during the pandemic. They started dating later that year, and Ayomide has been blowing her mind in the sheets ever since.
“After a while, I won’t say the sex got boring, it’s more like we knew our bodies well. Then one day, he asked me to describe one of my sexual fantasies. I said I wanted to be teased mercilessly. The next time we linked up, he brought it to life — candlelight, kissing my feet, delayed orgasm. I came so many times that night. It felt like a dream.” — Somi
8. Toys make everything more fun
“Sex toys aren’t your enemy. If you work with them, you’ll drive her crazy” — GOAT: Demola*, 28, Straight
Demola is a big advocate for sex toys in the bedroom. He recommends that you use them to bring even more pleasure to sex. “My ex in uni had a few sex toys. I was initially sceptical about them till I saw how a combination of my touches and the stimulation from the toys made her come undone in a way I had never seen. I have my own collection now, and I use them on every partner that allows me to. They love it.”
Amaka* and Demola met at a rave in 2024 and have been casual lovers since. The first time Demola used toys on her, she saw stars.
“He brought out a bag of different sex toys, sanitised them and asked me to pick the one I wanted to try. It was my first time trying a sex toy, so I chose a bullet vibrator. Demola used the vibrator on my vagina lips while eating me out and that was probably the biggest orgasm I had ever experienced at that point. I knew there was no way I wasn’t going to come back.” — Amaka
“Don’t just suck his dick, suck on his balls while you give him a blowjob. You should be gentle and soft.” — GOAT: Oyin*, 29, Straight
For a mindblowing time in bed, Oyin suggests taking your partner’s balls in your mouth and sucking softly. The scrotum contains sensitive nerve endings that will maximise your partner’s pleasure.
Tolu*, 29 and Oyin met at a house party in December 2024 and have been dating since January. Tolu’s sex life has never been better.
“The second time we linked up for sex, she went down on me and it was amazing. But when she started sucking and licking my balls while stroking me? I lost it and came. It was the most intense thing anyone had ever done to me.” — Tolu
10. Put pressure in the right places
“Press your palm gently on her lower belly while thrusting into her, she’ll have an earth-shaking orgasm” — GOAT: Dele*, 30, Straight
Dele says you can increase your partner’s pleasure during sex by squeezing or putting pressure on her lower belly. “When I push down on her belly during sex, I know I can make her cum on demand.”
Funke*, 29, met Dele in 2024 through a mutual friend, and after a few months of flirting, they became lovers.
“Dele is amazing in bed. The way he handles my body when we’re intimate is crazy. When he presses down on my belly, it drives me insane. It’s like all the sensation pools in my vagina and explodes into an intense orgasm. He’s amazing.” — Funke
So, how do you have sex like a GOAT?
It’s not about flashy moves or porn-level stamina — it’s about being present, paying attention, and knowing what actually drives your partner wild. Whether it’s through dirty talk, foreplay, pressure in the right places, or simply saying their name, the best lovers understand that sex is a shared experience.
If you’ve ever wondered how to have sex in a way that leaves your name on someone’s lips long after the lights go out, now you have the blueprint, straight from the people who’ve already earned the title of GOAT.
*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the respondents.
It’s no secret that Nigeria is a homophobic country with a low tolerance for the LGBTQ+ community. I wanted to highlight the more positive queer experiences and so I spoke to a few queer people about what it’s like having supportive parents and how that has influenced their lived experiences.
“My parents love and accept my partner. It means the world to me.” — *Fatima, 24. Lesbian
What do you wish more parents of queer kids understood?
I wish they understood how hard it is for the queer child to be different from every one around them. Their child didn’t just wake up and decide to be different to spite them; they’re figuring life out, too. I remember coming out to my mum. She just sighed and told me she couldn’t imagine the amount of mental stress I had been under trying to figure my queerness out on my own. That made me start crying because being seen so clearly by my mum was a relief beyond words. I wish more parents of queer kids put themselves in their children’s shoes so better conversations can be had.
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What has their support looked like?
Their support has looked like warmth, especially to my partner. I love how intentional they are about making her feel like a part of the family. It stands out for me and warms my heart because she is my world, and they treat her like it.
I know my parents deep down are not fully onboard with my lifestyle because of their faith, but I love that they try to accept that I am my own person, having my own experiences, and they let me do my own thing while still loving me.
“My parents stand up for me and I love it.” — *Tolu, 24, Nonbinary
What do you wish more parents of queer kids understood?
I wish they understood that their silence speaks louder than they think. I am acutely aware of my mum’s facial expressions when I dress in a more femme way, even though she tries to hide it. I also wish they understood that even the smallest gestures matter when trying to reassure their child that they’re accepted the way they are. Your child’s queerness doesn’t dishonour you, rejecting them based on that is what is dishonourable.
What has their support looked like?
My parents stand up for me in front of my extended family members. If someone says something about me being effeminate, my mum will say they should leave her child alone, and I love it. Even though we don’t always agree, it helps me feel secure knowing that I have love at home.
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“Knowing I don’t have to pretend to be what I’m not at home takes a burden off my shoulders.” — Chika, 21, Lesbian
What do you wish more parents of queer kids understood?
I wish they knew that their support can be the difference between a child who thrives and a child who barely survives. I already feel like society hates me, and knowing I don’t have to pretend to be what I’m not at home really takes a burden off my shoulders.
What has their support looked like?
It’s in the little things. My mum will often buy rainbow-themed things for me. She’ll come home with a shirt that has a rainbow on it and say, “Chika, I know you’ll like this one.” I think it’s adorable. I know she struggles with accepting my sexuality, but the effort she puts into trying to understand me warms my heart.
“Queerness is not a failure or a phase” — *Azeez, 30, Gay
What do you wish more parents of queer kids understood?
That queerness is not a failure or a phase. I wish more parents knew that trying to “protect” us by silencing or denying our identity only makes us feel more isolated and othered.
What has their support looked like?
My mum doesn’t play about me and defends me at every turn from my siblings and the rest of our extended family. There’s a lot of pressure from home for me to “marry a nice girl” and “settle down”, and my mum tells me to forget about it and do what I want. I love that there’s at least one person in my corner.
“We don’t need to be fixed.” — *Jeremiah, 27, Gay
What do you wish more parents of queer kids understood?
They need to understand that their child isn’t lost. We don’t need to be fixed, we need to be loved and seen.
What has their support looked like?
I recently started dating, and they asked me to bring him home for a visit. It’s a huge leap from their initial reaction to me coming out to them as gay. It makes me feel like I can show them more of myself than before.
Her career started with a ₦160k/month executive assistant role. Seven years later, she’s managing $5 million marketing budgets, launching global products used by millions, and earning $7.8k/month — nearly $100k a year — from her apartment in Lagos.
But this leap didn’t come easily. Getting here took heartbreak, hundreds of rejections, a career pivot, and relentless learning.
This is how she moved up to become a globally respected product marketing manager and how she’s planning for what’s next.
This Day
I currently work remotely as a product marketing manager in Web3, helping one of the world’s oldest internet browser companies explore the future of decentralised technology. I earn $7,800 a month.
I launch software products at my job. This might sound vague, but “products” aren’t just apps: they can be features, experiences, or systems. My job is to take those products to market, craft their story, figure out how they fit into people’s lives, and ensure the right people find and understand them.
Web3 itself can be a difficult concept to grasp. But I’d explain it as a new way of building systems: financial, digital, communal, where everyone has access, everything is transparent, and no one person or company holds all the power.
In my role, I work closely with the product team to decide what we build, why and when we build it. This means prioritising what our users truly need. Sometimes, product managers and engineers get caught up in the technical magic of building and forget the human being at the other end. My job is to sit in that middle space between user and product. I translate the needs of real people into the roadmap, so that what we build solves the problems that actually matter.
But here’s where it all started for me.
The Early Hustle
In 2018, fresh out of uni at 20, I felt a heavy urgency to get my life moving. As the first of four kids, I carried the pressure to succeed.
I tried front-end development using React but hated it. It felt mechanical, like bricklaying. I needed a job that could give me creative joy, so I started showing up daily at a coffee shop on Victoria Island with my laptop, applying for any job I could find.
One day, a woman — clearly someone important — walked in for a meeting. When she finished, I introduced myself and asked to be her assistant. To my surprise, she said yes and hired me on the spot. She was the CEO of a Lagos-based company, and I became her executive assistant, earning ₦100k. I helped her manage tasks, meetings, and day-to-day operations.
At the same time, I also tutored kids. I’d signed up with a home tutoring agency and was getting ₦30k a month teaching science subjects after work. One family, a Lebanese father and his two daughters, liked me enough to cut out the agency and hire me directly, which bumped my tutoring income to ₦60k. Altogether, I was making ₦160k a month.
Eight months later, everything unravelled. The company where I worked as an executive assistant collapsed amid fraud allegations, and the founders were declared wanted. It was a wild ending, but by then, I had tasted what it meant to hustle and find my footing, and I was ready for more.
Building Skills, Earning Little
I aggressively hunted for jobs, applying to anything I felt remotely qualified for: marketing, social media, assistant roles, etc. Then, one day, I sent my CV to a recruiter I found on Twitter.
That’s how I landed my first remote role in 2019, as a content assistant at a US-based natural hair extension brand run by a Nigerian-born founder. She was open to hiring from Nigeria, and I got lucky. From my apartment in Lagos, I planned and scheduled social media content, ran competitor research, brainstormed campaigns, and helped manage the blog. It was my first taste of working internationally.
The pay was ₦150k monthly, sent via WISE. I still kept up with home tutoring after hours to make ends meet.
But eventually, the cracks started to show. We were a team of four — all Americans except me. I felt isolated —a distant cog in a system I wasn’t fully part of. With growing personal needs, I knew it was time to move on. I wanted to earn more and matter more.
Learning on the Job
By late 2019, another unexpected break came through. Because of my content assistant experience, I landed a role as a content specialist at a US-based B2B SaaS company. It felt like a fluke of luck: I wasn’t a trained writer, but the job required constant writing. Their SEO strategy demanded a stream of articles, and I had no choice but to figure it out fast.
The first few weeks were intense. I leaned heavily on Google, my teammates, and a brilliant editor who shaped my writing from scratch. It was baptism by fire, but I grew rapidly. I earned $250 monthly, not much more than my previous salary, but the real gain was skill.
Then, in early 2020, a friend sent me a job link. I wasn’t looking, but I applied anyway. It was a content coordinator role at a fashion startup in East Africa. I got the job: $450 a month, or about ₦270k at the time.
For the next year, I ran the content calendar, managed writers and editors, drafted weekly newsletters, posted on social media, and brainstormed editorial themes. It was structured but creative work. I was deep in content strategy and digital storytelling, balancing trend research, editorial deadlines, and brand messaging all at once.
I learned how to lead a team, own processes, and communicate ideas that moved people. It wasn’t glamorous, but it laid a strong foundation for everything that came next.
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The Pivot That Changed Everything
In January 2021, while still at the fashion startup, a friend messaged me: “Are you open to a new job?”
I wasn’t actively searching, but she had a lead: a content specialist role for a child company under one of the largest global crypto and Web3 companies.
I figured, why not?
She sent my résumé to the recruiter. I didn’t think much of it. The job was for a Lagos-based team, though tied to the global company. I barely took the interview seriously. They sent me a task — a writing sample, and I remember submitting something I immediately hated. I stayed up, rewrote it from scratch, and asked them to ignore the first draft. A few days later, they sent me an offer.
It came with a huge salary jump — $1,000 per month. That was more than double anything I’d ever earned. And the role turned out to be so much more than content.
I was hired as a content specialist but quickly found myself doing product marketing: launching features, crafting go-to-market strategies, and building narratives around new releases. Blog posts, newsletters, social campaigns; I figured out how to communicate product value. That’s when I realised: this is what I love. Not just content writing but telling the story of a product strategically, creatively, and holistically.
At some point, I asked for a title change, from content specialist to product marketing manager. It just fit better. I didn’t want to code or be a product manager, but I wanted to be close to the product, shaping how people saw and interacted with it.
I stayed for nearly two years. It paid well; the best salary I’d ever earned. But I didn’t love the job. The work culture was tough, heavily influenced by a rigid, top-down hierarchy that didn’t suit me. It’s also the only job where I ever had a serious conflict with a colleague; the kind that led to HR intervention.
Despite the money, I wanted out. So I quietly started searching again.
From $1K to $6.5K/Month: The Leap That Paid Off
This was the turning point in my career.
By early 2022, I knew I wanted to leave my job, but didn’t know where to go. I was casually applying to a few local companies when a friend sent me aNaira Life article about a 24-year-old content marketing writer earning $93,000 a year.
I was also 24, in the same line of work, but I was earning just $12,000 a year.
That story lit something in me. I read it again and again, sometimes first thing in the morning. It became my north star. I remember thinking, She doesn’t have two heads. So why not me?
I started deliberately and consistently applying for international roles for the first time. Until then, every remote job I’d gotten was a stroke of luck; someone had sent me a link or referred me. This time, I was hunting hard. I started in April 2022 and didn’t stop for eight months.
It was exhausting.
I’d apply, get rejected, apply again, get close, only to be turned down. Sometimes, I’d ask for feedback, then go back and tweak my résumé, read up on what they said I lacked, and keep going. I had learned how to navigate interviews, write better applications, and ask better questions.
But the rejections wore me down. I was miserable at work, but couldn’t leave without something better.
The burnout was real. I barely left the house. I’d wake up, apply to ten jobs, and return to bed. From staying inside so much, I developed a vitamin D deficiency. I was exhausted mentally, physically, and spiritually.
In June, I broke down. I took a one-month break, emptied my account, bought a car, and disappeared for a bit, like a personal rebellion against how stuck I felt. But by July, I got back on the grind.
In November 2022, after what felt like a hundred failed attempts, something finally clicked. I landed a product marketing specialist role at a Web3 startup. The pay was $2,000 a month, and they bumped it to $3,000 two months in. It was progress, but the company culture was off. I didn’t feel settled, and after three months, I left.
The real breakthrough
I applied for a new role through AngelList (now WellFound) and got the job. The offer? $6,500 per month.
$78,000 a year.
I couldn’t believe it when I saw the figure. I remember staring at the offer letter, stunned. It was more money than I ever thought possible.
That job was everything I’d worked for in 2022. During that year, I’d been obsessively learning, taking courses, reading blogs, and sharpening my skills. It finally paid off. I had spent six months there as a product and content marketing manager. But then, out of nowhere, the company ran into funding problems. They announced we might only have a few months of runway left.
I was devastated.
After grinding for a full year to find that job, after finally feeling like I was getting somewhere, it all felt like it was slipping away. I was emotionally drained.
The thought of starting the job hunt all over again made me feel sick.
But just before I left that role, in June 2023, I got a LinkedIn message from a recruiter hiring for a role in the global tech company I currently work for. They were expanding into emerging markets and building a new product in the Web3 space, and they needed someone with my experience.
She asked if I was interested. I said yes. Then she ghosted after I asked about the salary. But she’d dropped a link to the job in her message, so I applied anyway.
A few days later, HR reached out. During our first call, they asked for my salary expectations. I said $7,000/month. She paused and said she’d have to get back to me.
She did. The company approved the amount, even though it was above their initial budget, because I had the experience the team needed. They made an offer, and I accepted.
That’s how I landed my current role.
At the Top: Launching Products for Millions
In July 2023, I stepped into the role of Product Marketing Manager for a new product launch. I worked remotely from my studio apartment in Lagos, earning $7,100/month. That product now has over 7 million users, and counting.
Nearly two years later, I’m earning $7,800/month. It’s been a steady, satisfying climb, and it feels especially significant because I still live where I started: Lagos. But now, I live comfortably.
I send my mother between ₦500k and ₦1 million every month without blinking. I used to dream about that, but it’s been a long time since I needed something I couldn’t afford.
I was recently promoted to Senior Product Marketing Manager, and my contract now runs for the next three years. That kind of security is rare in tech, and I don’t take it for granted.
I work with teams worldwide, managing people, leading strategy, and running marketing budgets of over $5 million annually.
More than that, I feel respected, valued and trusted. My colleagues support me, and they see me for who I am, not just for my skills. That’s not common, and it’s not lost on me.
Stability and What It Means to Me
Recruiters have tried to poach me. Some have dangled offers twice, even three times what I currently earn. One role came with a $22,000/month salary and relocation to the UAE. It was very tempting.
But I turned it down.
I’ve come to understand the value of stability. I like what I’m doing right now. I believe in the product we are building. I believe in the mission and the company’s ethos at the moment. And sometimes, that matters more than the highest bidder.
This company has existed for almost 30 years, longer than I’ve been alive. That kind of track record means something to me. It’s a different kind of security. And I’m not willing to trade that for the uncertainty of a startup barely five years old, no matter how flashy the salary is.
Sure, I know there’ll always be higher-paying jobs whenever I decide to move on. But right now, I have enough. Life is good, and my family is living comfortably, and that’s more than I could say a few years ago.
The Future: What’s Next
Lately, I’ve been thinking more intentionally about what comes next. I’ve realised I want to move into venture capital.
I love product marketing: the strategy, the storytelling, the process of turning ideas into launches that land. But now, I want to do it at scale, not just for one product but for many simultaneously. VC feels like the next step. It’s a chance to help multiple startups grow, using everything I’ve learned so far.
To get there, I know I’ll need more than technical expertise. I need a stronger foundation in business, the kind that comes with an MBA. In a few years, I’m planning to go back to school for an MBA focused on startups, finance, or growth strategy.
An MBA will give me the business acumen and credibility that VCs demand. It’ll also help me stay relevant globally, which matters to me. I don’t plan to stop working with international companies anytime soon. I want to stay remote and global and continue playing on a bigger stage.
VC is the goal. When the time is right, school is part of the path to getting there.
My One Cent for Anyone Starting Out
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: never stop learning, and don’t stop showing up.
It’ll be hard. You’ll feel stuck. You’ll doubt yourself. But you can’t let that stop you. Keep pushing, keep learning. That’s the only way to grow.
I also think that too many people are chasing quick wins. They jump from job to job for a slightly higher salary, without pausing to build anything deep. But real growth comes from staying long enough to learn something real. From watching how people with 10, 15 years of experience move, think, and work. From putting your head down and mastering your craft.
I’ve seen it too many times: teams where everyone has five years of experience or less, and no one’s really learning from anyone. Everyone’s good at a little bit of everything, but no one is excellent at any one thing. That’s not how you build depth.
So here’s my advice: pick something, and do it really well. Don’t let shiny new job titles or inflated salaries distract you. There’ll always be a new hot role. A new industry. A new trend. But the people who win are the ones who stay focused and put in the reps.
Whatever path you choose: design, writing, engineering, product marketing, own it. Go deep, and get so good at it that when you walk into an interview room, there’s no question who the best candidate is.
That’s the only real way to stand out in a crowded job market. It’s not by knowing a little about everything, but by being undeniably great at something.
