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  • For women, penetrative sex can be a hit or a miss. While some individuals have only positive reviews, many others have a complicated relationship with it.

    We have women who enjoy it but simply can’t orgasm from it alone, and some women who don’t care for it because it is such an uncomfortable experience. They all have to deal with thinking that there is something wrong with them because of their inability to orgasm from penetrative sex alone, but studies have shown that this is a common experience for many women. 

    For a long time, talking about sex has been treated as taboo for women, but now, we are seeing significant pushback. As more women speak openly about their experience, it’s becoming quite obvious that penetrative sex is not a universally pleasurable experience, and it does not have to be. 

    In this article, five Nigerian women share their honest experiences with penetrative sex and how they’ve learned to navigate sexual pleasure on their own terms. 

    Sex

    1. “I realised that penetrative sex would never be my thing.” — Gloria*, 22

    The first time I attempted penetrative sex, it honestly felt like a foreign object was inside of me. My partner was not fully in because of how tense I was, and yet, it still felt intrusive. At some point during the act, I became so uncomfortable that I had to withdraw consent and push my partner away. 

    I was not only angry at him, but also at myself, because I truly felt horrible. He didn’t even fully penetrate me, and it felt like I had a million cuts inside me, so imagine what it would have felt like if he had gone in fully? I probably would have jumped off the nearest roof. It was at that moment that I realised that penetrative sex would never be my thing.

    These days, I mostly get my orgasms through masturbation. No man has made me orgasm, and that is quite sad, but then again, I rarely let them attempt to do so because I am tired of being disappointed. When it comes to women’s bodies, a vast majority of men have proven themselves to be extremely illiterate, and it actually just gets to a point where it becomes tiring.

    2. “Sex was over when he finished, but what about me?” — Atinuke*, 21 

    My first experience with penetrative sex was at 20, and let’s just say it was not the best. I dissociated midway, and the aftermath was so painful because one, I dried up the moment I stopped feeling it and two, no lube was used. 

    At first, I thought I didn’t enjoy it because not only was it my first time, but there were also factors like inadequate foreplay and the trauma from being sexually assaulted as a child. Unfortunately, my next four experiences weren’t better. Each one felt like I was just existing there for him to finish. It never felt enough. Sex was over when he finished, but what about me? 

    Before I started engaging in penetrative sex, I had always known I preferred dry humping. My ex-situationship literally asked me how I enjoyed dry humping more than penetrative sex. I was low-key embarrassed by the question, but now, I know he should have been the embarrassed one. There is no one way to have sex. 

    Dry humping and nipple stimulation (at the same time) are the only tested ways I can reach orgasm. It takes quite a bit of time, but it feels good, especially when they build momentum with foreplay, gentle biting, and lots of kissing. 

    My ex-boyfriend was good at that. We’d start with foreplay, and every time he would make sure I reached orgasm before penetrative sex. Whenever my mind drifted, he’d always check in by asking how I felt, if the pace was alright, and if we should switch positions. That way, I felt satisfied, and although there was still some discomfort afterwards, I was able to live with it. 

    In general, my thoughts about penetrative sex are that it’s never enough and not always enjoyable. But one thing about me is that I love to give and receive pleasure, so if my partner prioritises my pleasure, I’d do the same, even if it means penetrative sex. 

    3. “I used to feel like something was wrong with me” — Temilade*, 25

    From the moment I started having penetrative sex, I noticed that my partner would orgasm, but I wouldn’t. I was 18 at the time, so when this occurred, I could only stare, asking myself: Why was nothing happening? Why didn’t I feel anything? What was I supposed to feel? I had already started masturbating, so I knew there was something I should feel if I truly climaxed, and that was missing. 

    Over the years, I’ve accepted the fact that while I do enjoy penetrative sex, I simply don’t get an orgasm from it. That’s just how it has always been for me. I used to feel like something was wrong with me until I realised, after reading articles, that this is the reality for a lot of women. 

    For someone like me, I take a lot of pleasure in the activity of sex itself and not just the end point. Activities like making out and foreplay all add to the experience, so I don’t always go into sex for the orgasm, but sometimes, I like to cum too. This, however, can only happen through clitoral stimulation. 

    After finding out that I could orgasm through clitoral stimulation only, I was able to communicate my needs to my current partner, and it has worked very well for me. 

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    4. “When it comes to penetrative sex, I have a 60/40 might orgasm or not ratio” — Zaynab*, 25 

    When it comes to penetrative sex, I have a 60/40 might orgasm or not ratio. Since it’s never something I do alone, it’s hard for me to see it as a part of sex that can give that big O, or multiple ones at that. 

    My first time having sex was receiving oral, and it was so amazing, I considered my life fundamentally changed. A year after that, I had vaginal sex with a penis, and believe me when I tell you I was not impressed in any way. The entire activity hurt a lot, and I kept getting dry. And although the experience has gotten much better, I can still attest that penetrative sex (the penis in vagina kind)  is sometimes mid. 

    Understanding how my body works has let me know that I prefer oral sex and fingering because they are more likely to make me orgasm. 

    5. “90% of the time, it is more uncomfortable than anything else” — Miranda*, 26

    Being raised in a Christian home meant that the thought of premarital sex used to fill me with a horrendous amount of guilt for the better part of my teen years and early twenties. I mostly blame religious conditioning and purity culture for this because I thought if I crossed that line and engaged in premarital sex, I would truly become “impure”. 

    While I started having sexual encounters from the moment I turned 15, it wasn’t until age 22 that I decided to give penetrative sex a try, and you will not believe how much of a letdown it was. Discovering masturbation had already let me know how much clitoral stimulation gave me earth-shattering orgasms, so I genuinely thought that penetration would even be better, but I was so wrong. When it happened, I remember tilting my head to the side and going “Huh? That’s it?” Did it eventually feel good? Yes, but was it as great as I thought it would be? No. 

    At first, I thought it wasn’t that amazing because it was my first time, but even after trying different partners and positions, it was still the same. Although there are rare moments when it feels amazing, I don’t orgasm from them, but they are satisfactory enough that I don’t feel the need to. However, about 90% of the time, even with lubrication, it is more uncomfortable than anything else. 

    When it comes to actually reaching orgasm, I’ve realised that dry humping, clitoral fingering, and oral sex remain my tested and trusted methods.

    Next Read: 16 Women on Skincare Rules They Had To Unlearn

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  • House hunting is one of the most exhausting things anyone can put themselves through. You’re fighting the hot sun, navigating terrible roads, paying agent fees, dealing with tribalism, and still somehow expected to accept the ridiculous prices landlords are calling rent.

    And if you are a woman, it gets even worse. Not only do you have to contend with the usual obstacles that come with house hunting, but you’re also forced to come face to face with the blatant misogyny that shows up in the behaviour of both agents and landlords as well.

    A woman trying to rent a house without a boyfriend or husband by her side apparently still raises confused brows because, for some reason, society cannot wrap its head around the fact that women can rent houses with their own money. 

    These warped perceptions certain people already have about women bleeds through every wall.  You can hear it in the way these agents and landlords speak to women, question, and generally act like men must be in the picture for their decisions to make sense.

    For this article, we spoke to five Nigerian women about the discrimination they faced while house hunting. 

    house hunting

    “Why must a man always have to be in the picture?”  — Kairat*, 39

    No one warned me that Lagos landlords could make house hunting a nightmare. I thought I would just meet up with agents and pick an apartment I liked, so I was not prepared when I found the apartment I currently live in, and the landlord’s first question was, “Where is your husband?” While I was still processing the question, he went on, telling me that he would not rent the house to me unless my husband signed the necessary documents. 

    I was in shock, but apparently, that’s a common thing. Landlords just tend to have a personal vendetta against single women. For my best interest, I was asked to lie about having a husband who lived overseas. I had to because I really needed an apartment, but I was so angry. Why must a man always have to be in the picture? It is a house that I used my hard-earned money to pay for, so till now, I still do not understand why I had to act like Mr Lagbaja’s wife before I could get it. 

    “Any small thing, they’re trying to include ‘daddy’.” — Chioma*, 20 

    This has happened to me so many times. My parents are divorced, and my mum raised me. So it’s just been us two for some time, and whenever we go house-hunting, we always face some form of discrimination. The one I remember clearly happened after I gained admission into a university in Lagos. The agent who took us around was very condescending, and whenever he got to a subpar house, he would say something like “Since you people are women, you will know how to manage.” 

    When I finally found the house we both liked, we met the landlord, who was no different from the agent. He kept making remarks that I was sure were only reserved for women. He would say things like “Shebi, it’s not you that is paying, it’s daddy that is paying,” or ask, “Is daddy coming too? What happened to daddy?” Any small thing, they are trying to include ‘daddy’ as if women are not financially stable enough to rent a house. 

    I have noticed that many people believe a woman’s financial worth is tied to a man. They think she can’t have her own money to make a big purchase, like a house or a car. It’s a very disgusting line of thinking, because why are they of the belief that a woman can’t have the money to rent a home? 

    “It felt like she was saying ‘There are no men in your lives, so leave’” — Mayowa*, 28 

    When I first moved to Lagos and started house hunting, the agent told me to fill out the form saying I was married, and at first, I was very confused about that because what did that even mean? When I asked the agent what he meant by that, his response was “Just do as I say,” and I immediately took offence. I have a coconut head, and no one, especially a man, can tell me what to do. 

    It was my aunt who calmed me down and let me know that’s what I needed to do, or else the house won’t be rented out to me, and that was very surprising. In the end, I had to house hunt with my boyfriend at the time, and pretended he was my husband so I could get a flat. 

    A year or two after that, I went house hunting again, but this time, it was with my girlfriend. On one of our hunts, we found a house, and I remember them asking if we were Yoruba. We said we were not, and at the end of the day, the only reason they agreed to let us see the house was because we’re both mixed race. Basically, they felt like there was no strong affiliation to any tribe, and that was less of an issue for them. At the end of the day, we weren’t comfortable with the place, so we left. 

    At the house we finally rented, we had a lot of queer friends over, and I believe the landlady had suspicions about our sexuality because she asked us to move out of the house. Her reason was that her son was coming back to the country, but he was not. It felt like she was saying, “There are no men in your lives, so leave.” 

    Now, when it comes to house hunting, I ask the men in my life to handle it because house hunting in Lagos is so bad.

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    “They believe that we engage in prostitution.” — Sade*, 24 

    I was 21 and in my final year at a Ghanaian university when I decided that I needed to move out of the hostel because we had recurrent water and electricity issues. I spoke to my parents about it, and we all decided that it was best to look for an apartment close by. 

    One day, my friend and I heard of an available apartment and, excited, we headed there with the hope that we would get it. When we got there, we met the landlord, who took his time taking us around the house. Everything was going well with the house tour until he asked if we were both going to stay in the apartment. After we said yes, he asked, “Your accent is different. Where are you guys from?” When we replied with Nigeria, he bluntly told us, “All you Nigerian girls come to Ghana for prostitution. I can’t give you my apartment. Please look for another place.” My flabber was ghasted. It was later that we found out that some landlords in Ghana don’t rent houses to Nigerian girls because, for some reason, they believe that all of us engage in prostitution. 

    On finding out, I felt very disappointed because while I am fully aware that prostitution exists, the blatant discrimination and stereotyping was so awful. 

    “In the order of questions I was asked, I would say ‘Where is your husband?’ is at the top.” Mariama*, 24

    I have house hunted in Lagos three times now. The first time, I restricted myself to mostly student areas, and even though it wasn’t great because of the constant “are you Yoruba?”, it was a little easier because everyone was a student, and the landlords weren’t too focused on our romantic lives. The second time was a lot more difficult. I was house hunting with my friend, and since we were both single, we faced an entirely different problem with potential landlords. It was no longer “Oh, you are not Yoruba,” but “You are both single women.” It got to a point where I had to enlist one of my male friends to act as my husband, who won’t be around for the whole time. 

    It was not only the “Where is your husband?” question that we had to deal with; we also heard “What state are you from?” and “What work do you do?” However, in the order of questions I was asked while house hunting, I would say, “Where is your husband?” is at the top. 

    Once, I found a house, and the landlady had already sent over documents, when, all of a sudden, she texted to tell me she won’t be renting the place to me because the other stakeholders weren’t comfortable with me. When I called to ask what the problem was, her response was, “See, it is because you are a single woman.” Hearing that exhausted me to my core, but I couldn’t do anything about it, so I had to accept my fate and find other alternatives. 

    You know that phrase ‘once bitten, twice shy’? It was different with me because I’d already been bitten like three times by Lagos landlords before I realised I needed to do something about it. So, the next time I found a house I wanted, I made my male friend act like he was the one getting the house. It was after the deal was sealed and payment had been made that I let the landlord know it was only my name that was on the house documents. 

    Lagos landlords, 3, Me, 1. 

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  • For many girls raised in a society that shamelessly prioritises boys, entitlement was familiar long before they ever learnt the word.  Young girls grew up watching adults defend the actions of boys with the familiar, tired phrase “boys will be boys.”

    And when your brother had eaten most of the food meant for both of you, the adults would respond with, “he’s a growing boy”, as if you weren’t a growing girl who also needed to eat.

    These excuses set dangerous precedents.  Some boys become men with an inflated sense of entitlement around food, leaving the women in their lives to shoulder the consequences of their selfishness. 

    Over the years, women on Beyoncé’s internet have expressed frustration about this particular kind of inconsideration,  and that frustration is valid. It’s high time we talk more openly about how harmful and exhausting it can be. 

    In this article, five Nigerian women share their experiences living with men who treat food like a personal right rather than a shared resource.

    Eat

    “I was always shocked at how my brother could eat and eat and not care about other people who might not have eaten”— Adeola*, 25

    I’m the firstborn with four younger siblings, the last three being boys. There’s a pattern of selfishness among them. The oldest of the boys has grown to be more considerate over time, but only a few years ago, he was so difficult to live with. 

    For a period, it was just the two of us living with my dad. If my dad bought a big loaf of bread for breakfast, my brother would wake up in the middle of the night, fry three eggs, and eat more than half of the loaf. I would wake up in the morning and find out that half of the bread was gone, and that would leave me, the one who is thinking about how to make the bread last, to figure out how to manage it. I was always shocked at how my brother could eat and eat and not care about other people who might not have eaten. It’s the same situation with my other two brothers, sometimes worse. And whenever I complained, I was told I was overreacting or that I got angry easily. I had to prioritise my peace and leave. I learned that it’s easier to avoid wahala when I’m not in the house. I just wish we’d teach boys not to feel so entitled to things that are meant for everyone. 

    “I made sure to cook meals they didn’t like and also removed cuts of meat they liked” — Kaimah* 22

    Growing up as the first daughter meant my siblings’ needs always came before mine. Whenever I cooked, I was expected to include their meals because it was considered mean if I didn’t. This meant that there were a lot of times when my brothers would go into the kitchen and take food without even asking if it was meant for them. They always believed that it was their right to do so. 

    The last straw was this one time after I’d finished slaving away in the kitchen, and I asked my brothers if they wanted to eat. They told me no, so imagine my surprise when I went to rest and came back to find them finishing the food I’d kept for myself. When I asked them why they did that, they told me that I could always cook another food for myself, and I swear, at that moment, it felt like someone had used a pot to hit me on the head. I was so pissed, and on that same day, I told my mum that I would not cook for my brothers anymore, and I stood by my words even when she did her best to defend their actions. 

    To let my brothers know that I was very serious about my decision, I made sure to cook meals they didn’t like and also removed cuts of meat they liked. I kept on doing this until they came to apologise, and ever since then, they’ve been more cautious about how they eat food. 

    “The entire thing contributed more to my unhealthy eating habits.” — Awele* 21

    When a conversation like this comes up, I blame traditions for it because I remember being a child and watching my mother place four to five meat on my dad’s plate. In her words, “the head of the family eats more”, and indirectly, she instilled the thought in my younger brothers’ heads that when they grow up, they would get the chance to eat more than their future wives. 

    When I graduated from secondary school and returned from the boarding house, I started to notice a pattern in the way my mum dished out food for her two favourite sons, my immediate younger brother and my youngest brother. She would put a lot on their plates and leave the rest for my second brother and I to eat. See, the problem then was that she barely left enough for both of us, so by the time I was ready to eat, I would either meet little food or nothing at all. When I asked about my food, I would get a response like “You don’t eat, so why are you asking?” from my second brother. For someone who already had a bad relationship with food because of boarding school, the entire thing contributed more to my unhealthy eating habits. 

    Although I stopped complaining about it a long time ago, the situation is a bit better now, and that was because my mother finally noticed that I was not eating well. While there have been times when I cried over a brother’s selfish eating habits that directly affected me, my mum, in an effort to ensure that I don’t starve myself, includes me in the meal planning, picks out food that she knows I might like, and most importantly, she warns my brothers to stay away from whatever food she leaves for me. 

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    “My daughter made me see that I needed to stand my ground.” — Hadiza* 51

    My husband does not work. He never has. I am the sole breadwinner of the house, and while things can get financially difficult sometimes, I never minded it until the entitlement started. Whenever I bought foodstuffs for the house, he believed it was his right to do anything with them. He ate everything in sight, and he gave them out to neighbours even when he knew that I was managing.

    One event that still plays in my head was the time I got admitted to the hospital for a while. The day before I ended up there, I had cooked enough food to last our family of three for a week, so I was deeply upset when my daughter informed me at the hospital that while she stayed the night with me, my husband ate most of it and gave the rest to the neighbours. The whole situation really hurt me, but I never confronted him about it, even though I should have. 

    In the end, my daughter made me see that I needed to stand my ground. One thing you should know about my daughter is that she does not take any sort of disrespect from her father, and she is not ashamed to call him out on his actions. Watching him slowly become scared of her pushed me to emulate her behaviour and also set boundaries. Ever since I started doing that, food has started lasting longer in the house.

    “My father believed that it was the duty of a woman to cook and a man to eat.” — Adelayo* 47

    As kids, we were raised to listen to our parents. It didn’t matter if they were right or wrong; you didn’t ask questions. You were just expected to respect everything they did, so whenever my father finished the food in the house without asking the rest of us if we had eaten, we couldn’t say anything. 

    My father believed that it was the duty of a woman to cook and a man to eat. Most days, we had to cope with the selfishness he showed when it came to eating food. Once, he told my brother not to cook when he made an attempt. He said the women (my mum, sisters, and I) should cook instead.  It was something we didn’t like, but we had no choice but to accept it because we were all living under his roof.  

    For many years, I kept consoling myself with the fact that I didn’t have to live with him forever, but then, a day came when my mother finally had enough. To curb our father’s selfishness, she enforced a rule that the only time food should be available to our father was if the rest of us were as hungry as he was. Obviously, he didn’t like that rule, but thanks to our mum, we were able to eat our food without worry for a very long time. 

    Next Read: I Tried To Put Motherhood On Hold and Failed

    Single? Married? Divorced? Dating? In a situationship? We’re surveying Nigerians about love, relationships, marriage, and everything in between, and we want to hear from YOU.

    You only need to give us a few minutes of your time and participate in this quick survey. It’s 100% anonymous too!

  • By now, you’ve probably seen a thousand International Women’s Day (IWD) flyers, read a dozen messages from different service providers, and read tons of analyses on what would make life better for Nigerian women. Following the news cycle and consuming the numbers as closely as we do, we believe we have a fair idea of what would make life easier for Nigerian women, but this year, we have decided to shelve the numbers and hear from real Nigerian women (aged 18 to 35).

    You will find that some of their answers were straight to the point, while some hammered on other broader issues. Our big question?— “what would make your life better as a woman living in Nigeria?”

    Bimbo (housewife)

    “You might think I’m being funny, but money will make my life better,” Bimbo said.

    “I want to be heard, to be given the opportunity to make my own choices without interference from my husband, and it is money that will make all of that possible for me,” she continued.

    Favour (Digital Marketer)

    “I need access to opportunities that do not come with sexual harassment—I don’t want to be looked at sexually before I can get jobs,” Favour said.

    “I went for an interview once, and I was asked if I was a virgin. On another occasion, a male in my field demanded to have sex with me before he could teach me,” she explained.

    “I have experienced sexual harassment a lot, so I am just wondering if it’s even possible to just advance without all these unnecessary sexual advances,” she said.

    Ifeoma (Wig Maker)

    “I want money, and I think every woman wants the same, to be honest,” she said.

    “I feel like most of the issues we go through, like abuse and discrimination, are somehow rooted in financial dependence. Money gives a woman strength, the right to make her own choices and freedom. That’s why I want money.”

    Chinwe (remote worker)

    “I want to be heard, and I want to be considered. Do you understand?” she asked.

    “I really want to be listened to and considered as much as men. My opinion should count. Although most women are not seen as realistic or pragmatic (which I think is our nature), I still think I need to be heard,” she said, shrugging.

    Sonia (Product Manager)

    “I’m being serious with you. I need money, and I need a lot of it. With money, I would be able to provide all the basic amenities for myself and my loved ones, which the government has repeatedly failed to provide. I would even be able to live in a saner environment if I chose to, and I would live on my own terms.”

    “When I am able to earn more,  money will no longer be the driver of so many things; I will be able to make better choices. I can decide to take a year’s break from work and not worry about finances. Peace would be the driver of all my decisions, and I would finally have the ability not to take shit from anyone,” she said.

    Jennifer (Makeup artist/Jewellery vendor)

    “I don’t feel safe in Nigeria. No one one feels safe. Our rights are being tampered with,” she said.

    “I want the government to implement effective laws and policies that’ll protect women from violence, discrimination, and harassment.”

    “Being female in Nigeria is a tough war. We are faced with pressure within and outside, and every time we try to rise above it, there’s always someone somewhere working against our upliftment in politics, business, as well as our safety.”

    “We deserve to live fully and to do more,” she said.

    Helen (Cosmetics Vendor)

    “Money will make my life better,” she said, hesitating a little.

    “I want a Nigeria that works, and I need the right connection to get me to where I need to be in life,” she said.

    “I also think women are not treated right in Nigeria, and I wish that would change. The year has barely started, and we have already witnessed gruesome incidents of women being brutally murdered and victimized while their perpetrators roam about without consequences. This cycle of violence not only affects women but also affects their children as well, and it needs to stop.”

    Chika (Mandarin interpretator)

    “As a Nigerian woman living in Nigeria, having a normal life without feeling like a prey is almost impossible. It does not feel safe to exercise my human right as a woman; it’s almost like I am expected to accept whatever society wants from and with me, irrespective of how uncomfortable I may feel. 

    “I want an inclusive Nigerian society that would not silence a woman when she has barely even spoken. A society where patriarchy does not rule over women and humanity at large. I want a society where I would not feel guilty about birthing a girl child. I want a safe society for my unborn daughter(s). I want a society where an accused does not sit as both judge and executioner of the case simply because he is male. I want a society where divorce is not frowned upon and made very difficult when it is the woman who files. 

    “I want a lot of things, but I mostly want to feel okay about being a woman living in Nigeria.”

    Winnifred (teacher)

    “I need money, and I need business funding so I can be completely financially independent.”

    “It will help me to be independent while actualizing my goals and vision of building a safe place for children,” she said, explaining why money is important to her.

    Rose (Logistician and Gender-Rights Advocate )

    “As a Nigerian woman, my most pressing need is safety and security. I want to exist in public spaces without fear of harassment, assault, or worse. I should be able to go out at night without the constant anxiety of being raped, groped, or murdered. No man should feel entitled to violate my space or put his hands on me simply because I am a woman. Gender-based violence must end, and the systems that allow it to thrive must be dismantled.

    Beyond safety, ordinary Nigerian women like myself deserve better workplace policies. We need workplace flexibility, paid maternity leave, and an end to gender-based hiring biases that continue to limit our growth. Women should not have to choose between career advancement and motherhood and should not be denied opportunities simply because of their gender. I just want better.”

    The women who spoke to us are of different ages and occupations, but while these aspects of them may differ, their wishes point toward a need for resources to live freely and fully.

    The World Economic Forum has revealed that it’ll take until 2158 (133 years) for the world to attain gender parity— it is this revelation that has driven the theme of this year’s IWD celebration, ‘Accelerate Action.’

    In asking governments across the world to accelerate action, UN Women wants them to fasten their efforts in promoting women’s rights and equalities and for the Nigerian women who have spoken to us, these actions must come in different forms including financial opportunities, safety, and inclusion.

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  • Get your groove on!

    This year, Hertitude is taking us all the way back to the groovy times for the best party ever with the hottest babes. To prepare for this party, your Nigerian history has to be on point. How plugged into the culture are you? Take this quiz, and we’ll tell you!
    Don’t dull and miss the funkiest party of the year! Grab your Hertitude tickets here before they’re sold out.

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  • As told to Mariam

    Last week, I asked women who have received marriage proposals to share what theirs was like — did they like it or not? I had a lot of entries but one stood out to me. Tomi* wasn’t sure if she had been proposed to or not because the first words her husband (at the time) said to her when they met were “I don’t like how your hair is uncovered as my wife”. She said she married him three months after that and if she were to try marriage again, she wouldn’t want a formal proposal. I asked what her marriage was like considering the unconventional proposal and our conversation led to this article.  

    Meeting my ex-husband, Tosin* was the most random thing.

    It was 2008. He called my line and opened with, “Hi! Can I get to know you?” I asked how he got my number, but he couldn’t give me an answer, so I ended the call. He kept calling. Sometimes I would pick, and we would do the same dance — “How did you get my number?” “I don’t remember.” “Goodbye.” This went on for weeks. 

    One day, I was on leave and bored at home, so when he called, I didn’t hang up. We had a long conversation. We discovered we are from the same state and I went to secondary school with his siblings. That got me curious. I wanted to meet him. 

    I suggested we go out for drinks, but he said he wanted to come to my house instead. I refused and insisted on a public place. When he saw me, the first thing he said was, “I don’t like how your hair is uncovered as my future wife.”  

    I don’t remember what my  response was, but I know we didn’t have drinks that day anymore. We had drinks two days later.

    Some days later, I was at home when Tosin called that his mum would like to talk to me. I spoke to her, and shortly after, she sent me some gifts. I didn’t think much of it. One day, my dad asked when I was bringing my husband home. I said I didn’t know when, but I was talking to someone. 

    When I told him about Tosin, it turned out he and my mum already knew his family. My dad said I should invite him to the house. I did, and we had lunch with my dad. They talked. I was indifferent about the whole thing. 

    My leave ended and I went back to work, which was out of town. After a few weeks, I called my mum and there were drumming sounds in the background. I asked what was going on, and she said, “Your husband’s people came.” I was like, “Which husband? I never introduced anybody to you as my husband.” My dad said, “You shouldn’t have invited him for lunch if you didn’t want to marry him. They came with a letter, and we have responded. The next thing is to agree on a date for the solemnisation.” 

    I was 22 at the time. I had never actively thought about marriage before then, but I knew it was expected of me. It didn’t seem like a bad idea if it would get my parents off my back and possibly make them happy.

    But you see, marriage was nothing like I expected it to be. First of all, I lost my freedom. I used to wear tiny dresses and skirts, but when I got married, I had to cover my hair. Even though I am a Muslim, I hated that shit. I loved travelling, but marriage meant I had to take permission for my trips. Sometimes, he would make me feel bad for even going at all. I had to give up everything that made me myself to be acceptable to everyone — my partner, my parents, my in-laws. 

    I think I was too young. Tosin was six years older than me. I didn’t centre my needs in making the decision to be married. If I had, I would have chosen better. Before I knew it, kids started coming into the equation. The first child was born in the first year, the second child was born in the third year and in the seventh year, we adopted the third. I think the kids made the ten years we spent married bearable. Tosin and I had nothing in common, but we were able to bond over caring for the children.

    Tosin liked me as a person but hated me as a wife. We would have made good friends, but being married to him caused me pain. In the first year of our marriage, he started cheating. 

    Four weeks after I had our first child, I discovered he had gotten my best friend at the time pregnant. I saw the conversation on his phone. I confronted him, and he couldn’t deny it. He begged me to forgive him, and I did. We had only been married for  about 11 months.

    As time went on, I discovered that he would try to sleep with my housemaids, and when they did not agree, he would get abusive or send them away. This time, I threatened to leave him. He apologised and got our families involved. I gave him another chance to be better. 

    In the ninth year of our marriage, I went out of town for work one day, and while I was away, he tried to have sex with our maid again. When I came back, he had already sent her away. That was the final straw for me. There was no coming back from that. As if that wasn’t enough, I found out that he had been trying to sleep with my cousin and my younger sister. The worst part for me was his utter lack of remorse.

    Our parents tried to mediate, but it was a done deal for me. I couldn’t look at him without swelling with rage. He left one day after I refused to let him touch me. He picked a few clothes and left. He came after a few days, said nothing to me, picked more clothes and left. After a couple of weeks, I got a place and moved with the kids.

    I was not surprised that he did not try to reach me. I was wondering how we would have survived if we were actually dependent on him. The kids were exposed to some of the toxicity towards the end, but I am glad it did not affect them. I noticed that since we left, they are better at expressing themselves. My first son decided he wanted to grow his hair out and cut it in a specific way. His dad used to force a particular style on him. They choose their own clothes and style now. They are learning to make decisions that affect their daily lives. I think I am doing a great job. 

    He called after seven months. He said he was in town and would like to spend time with the kids for a few days. I told him they can visit, but they can’t sleepover. I gave him an address to meet us at. We didn’t say anything to each other; the kids just switched cars. 

    It’s been 15 months and I would like to finalise it in court, but I am not ready for that journey yet. I am just happy to have left. His presence sucked my joy. Now, I wear my hair however I like. I wear whatever makes me happy. I spend my time in places that give me joy. There is no pressure to do one thing or the other. So far, I have no regrets. I love my life the way it is. 

  • With Valentine’s Day drawing closer and people planning how to spend the day and with whom, we asked six Nigerian women to tell us about the most romantic thing their partner has done for them. Consider this as a guide if you still don’t know what to get your partner. 

    Gimbs, 29 

    Just like most women, PMS is a huge pain in the ass for me. It’s a struggle for me every time my period comes. So my girlfriend got me this hot water bottle to help relieve me of the misery I go through monthly. It may not seem like a lot to some, but it was easily the sweetest and most thoughtful thing a partner has ever done for me.   

    Ms S, 33

    My husband and I work in different states most of the time because of our jobs and we get transferred a lot. I’m very bad with directions so anytime I’m transferred to a new state, my husband takes time off to help me pack and settle into the new place. But that’s not the romantic thing. The thing is, he would map my new route from home to work and back, and drive me on that route before my official resumption day just so I can get acquainted with it. When we moved to Lagos, we lived in Yaba. He was working in Ojo while I was working in Victoria Island. He would drive ahead of me with his hazard lights on, from our house to Agbogon – where I could find my way straight to Victoria Island — before he would go to Ojo. He did this for one whole week until I became familiar with the route and started driving alone. When I got to know Lagos a little better, I realised what a huge inconvenience that must have been to him and how sacrificial it was with Lagos traffic and everything.  It easily sticks out to me as one of the most romantic things he’s ever done for me.

    Tolu, 22

    Everyone’s interpretation of romance is different. For me, it’s the tiniest things that really get me. So there was a point I was struggling with the way my body looked, and I had tweeted about it. The tweet was something like, “I really don’t want boobs”, and a mutual friend of ours – me and my girlfriend – made an odd comment about it. I shrugged it off as nothing even though it kinda bothered me. My girlfriend saw it, and she sent the person a message saying, “Hey, this is not okay. She tends to keep things to herself and this is important to her.” I’m just paraphrasing here, but I remember just feeling so seen and loved for being me, regardless of what I want to look like. It was even more heartwarming because I hadn’t brought it up with her prior to this time. I thought it was the sweetest thing ever. 

    Bemigho, 27

    When I was turning 20, my husband — then boyfriend – made my birthday so special. He lived in Dallas, TX and I lived about 150 miles away from him. After driving for almost two hours, I got to his apartment and no one was home. In the bedroom, there was a new phone with cases to choose from, a new dress, new earrings, a new pair of shoes and a card asking me to be ready at 7 p.m. At 7, there was a knock on the door, and it was him holding flowers. He took me downtown Dallas to the top floor of some high-rise building. He had hired a chef and while we were eating, I turned around and there were fireworks coming out of the reunion tower. Till this day, I don’t know if he planned it or it was a coincidence, but it was an excellent night. We had only been dating for 10 months, but I thought he was about to propose. One of the best birthdays.

    Vue, 26

    They sent me cards, chocolates, a handwritten message in a bottle, a mug they drew my name on. All these things were shipped from the UK. They were also going to ship white and red roses because I love them, but I stopped them. I loved that they noted the things I liked and surprised me with them across the continent. Our relationship is going to be three years this year and we still get butterflies for each other. We still flirt like people in secondary school. 

    Dinma, 34

    In 2012, I was living in the UK while my partner lived in Nigeria. We would typically see each other once a month or every six weeks. Life happened, and this time, we hadn’t seen each other in six months. One day, I fell sick and told him I had visited the GP. He was headed to the US for some work, and we had agreed the plan was for me to either come to Nigeria when he returned, or he would come to the UK on his way back. However, that night, at about 1 a.m., he rang and said, “There’s a parcel at Hilton Tower Bridge with your name on it.” And I was like, “Surely, you could have told me in the morning.” Then he said, “It’s living and breathing, and it stopped over to be sure you were feeling better”. See! I blew about 65 quid on a taxi to his hotel, in shorts and a t-shirt. The wild thing was when I got there and started stooling, this man spent the rest of that night wiping my bum and mopping my face. The next night he caught his flight to the US. 


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