on the streets | Zikoko!

On the Streets is a Zikoko weekly series about the chaos of modern dating: from situationships and endless talking stages, to heartbreak and everything it means to be single in today’s world.

Bimi* (28) has spent the last few years navigating complicated relationships, from a long-term partnership that left behind a close friendship, to dating someone who hid a major part of his past and struggled to accept her best friend.

In this episode of On the Streets, she talks about her dating experiences and how they’ve changed her perspective on love.

What’s your relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

I’m single and free. I’ve reached a point where I know I can’t be with anyone who feels threatened by my friendships or my independence. I’ve compromised a lot in the past, and I’m not willing to settle anymore.

What led you to that place? Walk me through your dating history.

My first serious relationship started in secondary school and lasted into university. We ended things because distance became an issue when he moved abroad for school. After that, I didn’t pursue anything serious until 2018.

That year, I met Kola* at my faculty’s final-year dinner. We danced together and shared a ride home, and from there, we started talking constantly. My feelings for him grew quickly. I remember feeling sad that we hadn’t crossed paths earlier, but he was convinced we could make things work.

We got into a long-distance relationship shortly after school. He lived in another state, so we didn’t see each other often. And then COVID happened, which made things worse. Our communication was inconsistent. We could go days without talking, and whenever I complained, he always had an excuse. At the time, I didn’t understand what healthy communication in a relationship looked like, so I tolerated it.

One thing I’m grateful for from that relationship is that I met George*, who’s now my best friend. George was a close friend of Kola, and by 2019, he started helping him deliver things to me since we lived in the same city. Over time, George and I grew closer. We clicked easily because we have very similar personalities.

Hmm. How did Kola feel about your closeness with George?

He was surprisingly cool about it. He understood that it was purely platonic, and George was also in a relationship. At some point, we even formed a friend group. But that dynamic eventually ended the relationship.

Towards the end of 2020, George found out that Kola was seeing someone else where he lived. He told me because he felt I deserved to know. When I confronted Kola, he became extremely upset, not just about being exposed, but because George told me. Instead of taking responsibility, he insinuated that George was only eager to make the revelation because we had something romantic going on.

That was the end for me. When I broke up with him, he cut off both George and me. Ironically, that situation strengthened my friendship with George.

Did anything ever happen between you and George?

I developed a slight crush on him, but it faded within weeks. He had a girlfriend, and I was emotionally vulnerable at the time, so I knew not to read too much into it. I made a conscious decision to keep things platonic, and I’m glad I did. George has always had my back, and that mattered more to me than anything romantic.

I see. Did you get into any relationships after that?

In 2023, I met Adam* through a WhatsApp crypto trading group. The group held a physical meet-and-greet in December, and I noticed him immediately. He looked very attractive. He walked up to me and joked about my stares, which was awkward but funny. We sat together, exchanged numbers, and started talking constantly after that.

He was thoughtful and very intentional. I liked how he went out of his way to make me feel special. We officially started dating in March 2024, and I was genuinely happy. I even posted him on my socials.

Sounds cute.

But the relationship started falling apart when I found out about his past. In July 2024, someone left a comment under one of my posts with Adam, implying that he was a criminal. I didn’t notice it for weeks because it was on Facebook, which I barely use. George eventually sent me a screenshot and told me to check it out.

At first, I thought it was just a hate comment and deleted it. Instead of accusing Adam outright, I asked him if there was anything about his past he hadn’t told me. He insisted there wasn’t.

But I started feeling uneasy because he was very secretive about his past and refused to introduce me to anyone who knew him personally. My friends encouraged me to dig deeper. Eventually, I reached out to the person who commented, and she sent me a link to an article showing that Adam had been arrested and imprisoned for fraud by his former workplace in 2017.

When I confronted him with the evidence, he broke down and admitted he’d spent over a year in prison. He claimed a coworker falsely accused him, and he was eventually acquitted and released.

That’s a lot to process. How did you handle it?

It was overwhelming. I didn’t want to judge him solely by his past because he’d been good to me and hadn’t put me in danger. I even researched online, and most advice said not to condemn someone who had served their time. So I stayed.

But after that, the relationship changed. Adam became extremely insecure about George. I think he went through my phone and realised that George had encouraged me to investigate and consider ending things. From then on, he accused George of trying to sabotage our relationship and constantly questioned why I was so close to a male friend.

I made the mistake of explaining my history with George, hoping it would reassure him, but it only made things worse. Adam started monitoring my movements and picking fights regularly. I slowly checked out emotionally.

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In January of this year, he encountered financial difficulties. He owed someone from our trading group who publicised it because he refused to pay back. Given his past and everything else that was happening, I took it as my sign to leave before things got messier.

How did he handle that?

Adam didn’t take it well. He accused me of abandoning him at his lowest and tried to guilt-trip me into staying. I gave it another month, but I eventually realised that his kindness wasn’t a good enough reason to stay. That relationship taught me that cheating isn’t the only thing that makes a relationship unhealthy.

Right. Did you meet anyone after that?

I did. In September, a friend introduced me to someone she thought I’d be compatible with. We texted for weeks and eventually went on a date that I thought went well. But afterwards, he blocked me.

Later, I realised it likely happened because when he offered to take me home, I declined and mentioned I already had plans to meet George. That reaction told me everything I needed to know. I can’t be with someone who feels threatened by my platonic friendships.

Fair enough. How have these experiences shaped your idea of love and relationships?

They’ve taught me not to settle. For a long time, I made excuses for people and ignored red flags. I’ve also learned to listen to my friends. They’ve always given me sound advice, even when I didn’t want to hear it.

Finally, how are the streets treating you these days? Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10.

I like the idea of being in a relationship, but I’m not desperate. I know good people exist, and I’ll eventually meet someone who meets my standards. For now, I have my friends and family to keep me company.

On the Streets is a Zikoko weekly series about the chaos of modern dating: from situationships and endless talking stages, to heartbreak and everything it means to be single in today’s world.

Ummi* (28) married young, survived a turbulent partnership, and has spent the last few years trying, and failing, to find her person. In this story, she talks about her dating experiences and the lessons they’ve taught her.

What’s your relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

I like to say I’m single, but my dating life is complicated. I recently reconnected with someone from my past who’s already talking about marriage, but since my first marriage ended when I was 24, I’ve been very skeptical about the whole idea.

Let’s go back a bit. Can you walk me through your first marriage?

I met Kamal* in 2017 through mutual friends. I was in a relationship at the time, so it was strictly platonic. But as I became more religious, my views on dating changed. I needed marriage to be on the horizon, but my boyfriend was not aligned, so I ended things. It was a painful breakup.

Kamal and I got closer soon after. He introduced me to his Arabic school, and we spent a lot of time together. When he brought up marriage, it felt right. We got married in 2018.

That sounds nice. What were the early days like?

The first few months seemed fine. We lived with his parents temporarily, and I adapted to their lifestyle. I started to dress in a full hijab and took care of household duties with his mum.

Looking back, I overlooked several red flags. For example, he left me alone on our wedding night to go see his friend. He also got angry over the smallest things. If he misplaced something, he’d blame me. I felt like I had to constantly overcompensate to earn basic affection.

Unfortunately, things got worse when we moved into our own place.

In what ways?

We fought all the time. Cooking was the biggest source of conflict. I cooked for him even though I didn’t enjoy it, yet he still insulted my food every chance he got. His mother would show up unannounced to cook, blaming me for why he was skinny, even though he had always been that way.

The pressure to have children also grew. I had just started my master’s and was still serving, but that didn’t matter to his family.

Then, at the start of 2020, I had an ectopic pregnancy with internal bleeding. I only went to the hospital because I had painful cramps. Kamal said I was exaggerating, but the doctors told me I needed immediate surgery. When I told him, it took him over an hour to arrive. He was only fifteen minutes away.

After the surgery, I developed sepsis. I had to be hospitalised for three months, but my husband only visited twice. Once I was better, I decided I wanted a divorce.

How did he respond?

He called a family meeting and twisted the whole situation. Instead of addressing what happened, he accused me of being in contact with my ex from uni. He painted me as a cheating wife, even though we were only cordial.

I was financially dependent on him, so I felt pressured to apologise and return. I eventually went back, but I quietly decided to never have children with him.

Did things improve at all after you returned?

It didn’t. The fights continued, and his insecurities only intensified. If I worked late, he would accuse me of cheating, saying things like I was trying to bring another man’s child into his home. This was barely months after my surgeries.

He didn’t want me to work either. Yet somehow I was “full of myself” because I had graduated with a first class and started earning, even though he also had a first class and earned more.

Eventually, I told him we were not compatible and insisted on the divorce. He agreed, and we started the iddah waiting period. I moved into a separate room and we started living like strangers.

Then, in November 2020, I caught COVID. It was mild, so I didn’t need to be isolated. But when he came home and saw me in the kitchen, he screamed at me, saying I was trying to infect him. When I ignored him, he followed me and slapped me multiple times.

That was my last straw. I called my parents to pick me up and left for good.

That must’ve been incredibly traumatic. How did you move on from that?

Leaving that marriage pushed me away from religion for a while. I stopped wearing my hijab and started living life on my own terms. For almost a year, I didn’t date because I was scared of men. But in 2022, I began talking to Wole* and softened.

Tell me more about Wole.

We’d known each other since 2018 through a friend, but we weren’t close. When he visited my city in 2022, we ran into each other and started hanging out. Over two weeks of spending time together, I realised I liked him, and he admitted he’d had a crush on me for years.

Although I didn’t like long-distance relationships, we stayed connected after he left. We spoke every day, watched movies together, and sometimes fell asleep on the phone. After three weeks, we made it official.

However, in early 2022, I began the process of relocating abroad. The plan was for him to work towards joining me, but when I got my visa, he avoided the conversation.

His behaviour also changed. On one of my visits, he refused to touch me, which was unusual. Then I noticed a particular female friend was always hanging around him. Later, I found a pack of open condoms in his room.

He denied cheating, but I knew he was lying. Around the same time, I started checking out of the relationship and even ended up having a fling with a friend. It was brief and more about vulnerability than desire. I knew I couldn’t be with him long term, so when it was time for me to travel at the end of 2022, we ended things.

Did you try dating again after relocating?

Yes. A friend introduced me to Adam*, and we clicked immediately. I liked that we shared similar values and rarely argued.

Six months in, after I posted him online, an anonymous account began leaving comments under my posts asking if I knew who he really was. When I blocked them, they started sending me emails claiming to know some things he was hiding from me.

He denied hiding anything from me, but my lack of trust affected the relationship. Around that same time, we also clashed over children. I told him I didn’t plan to have kids, but he insisted on wanting three. With both issues combined, I ended the relationship.

You mentioned reconnecting with someone from your past. Where do things stand now?

A few months ago, I reconnected with Wole* after a friend encouraged me to speak to him. We slipped back into our old pattern of talking every day. I realised my feelings never really went away. He’s talking about dating and working towards marriage, but I’ve told him we need to move slowly.

Don’t the reasons for the first breakup still exist?

We’ve talked about that. The distance is still an issue, but he’s working towards relocating. I’ve told him that until he actually makes that move, I’m not committing to anything. I still love him, but I want to be practical.

Fair enough. How have these experiences shaped your idea of love?

They’ve made me clearer about what I want. My standards are higher. I no longer shrink myself to make relationships work. Nearly all my heartbreaks came from incompatibility, and now I know to take that seriously. Through it all, I still believe in finding my person.

Finally, how are the streets treating you? Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10.

I’d give it 2/10. The streets are cold. Despite everything, I still love love. I miss having my own person.

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Trigger Warning: This article contains sensitive topics, including physical assault and sexual abuse, which some readers may find distressing. Reader discretion is advised.

On the Streets is a Zikoko weekly series about the chaos of modern dating: from situationships and endless talking stages, to heartbreak and everything it means to be single in today’s world.

For Jane* (22), dating has been a rollercoaster. From a messy first relationship, true love cut short, to a compulsive liar who nearly scammed her, she reflects on the experiences that shaped her perspective on dating today.

What’s your relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

I’m single, and I’m not mad about it. After everything I’ve experienced, my standards have gotten higher. I’d rather remain single than settle again.

How did you get here? Walk me through your dating life.

My relationships have mostly been chaotic. I started dating in university, shortly after resuming from the COVID-19 break.

Okon* approached me on my way to the hostel and wouldn’t leave me until I gave him my number. I didn’t plan to take him seriously because he dressed very strangely, but my feelings grew over time. I was in my first year, while he was in his final year, and I liked that he seemed mature.

But our first real issue came when I discovered he was a drug dealer.

Wow. How did you find out?

At first, I had no idea. Although I thought it was weird that boys were always looking for him, he covered up by saying it was because he sold necklaces. A few months later, I heard students gossiping about how dangerous Okon’s drug dealing in our private uni could be. I confronted him, but he brushed it off like I was picking a fight over nothing. I eventually had to let it go.

The second issue was his ex. He told me they were just friends, but he saved her name with a heart and a lock, and pinned her chat. My number was saved with just my name and stayed unpinned. It hurt, but I ignored it because I didn’t want to seem clingy.

A few months into the relationship, I jokingly mentioned I heard he was sleeping with her. He thought I had evidence and immediately broke down, admitting they’d hooked up. He even said he was still in love with her and that they only broke up because she was relocating abroad.

Even after hearing all this, I still convinced myself I could make him change and fall for me.

Did he ever change?

Not at all. During the holiday, a mutual friend posted a video of him grinding his ex at a party. When I confronted him, he said grinding was just dancing, and I was overreacting. That was when I realised I’d wasted my entire first year on someone using me as a placeholder.

I checked out emotionally. I decided to ghost him instead of officially ending things. Subsequently, he tried to turn things into a friends-with-benefits situation and even invited me to his hotel during his convocation, but I kept my distance until it faded.

Not long after, I fell into a situationship with a Lagos boy who turned out to be a pathological liar.

Tell me about him.

I met Ryan* on Snapchat in 2023 during my IT. We later realised we went to the same school. He was good-looking and fun to talk to, and our first date was surprisingly great.

After that, we didn’t see each other in person for a while, but we kept texting. That’s when the lies started.

What kind of lies?

He painted himself in ways that exaggerated his image. Unprovoked, he told me he had $5000 in savings and was tight with Lagos celebrities. He even sent a picture of himself in a bar with one celebrity, but I later learned he’d begged his friend to let him tag along and ended up embarrassing the celebrity by asking him for money.

Another time, he sent me the screenshot of a ₦500k transfer he made. What he didn’t realise was that the screenshot also showed the credit alert that came before it. His friend had sent him the ₦500k, and his balance was just ₦2k. He quickly deleted it and resent a cropped version, which I pretended not to notice.

He also claimed he lived in Lekki. Meanwhile, his Snapchat location was always showing Apapa. Even after I confronted him, he wouldn’t admit it.

So, did you end things seeing these red flags?

Not immediately. I’d just moved to Lagos and didn’t know anyone. He kept me company. I didn’t like him deeply, but the situationship filled time.

But four months in, I knew I was done. He’d travelled to England, and when he returned, he convinced me to meet him at a hotel he supposedly booked. I got there, and he was nowhere to be found.

Two hours later, he called, claiming that traffic had held him up. Then he said he hadn’t paid because his bank was down. He asked me to foot the hotel bill, promising to refund me once he arrived.

When he finally showed up, I insisted on seeing his STI results as we’d discussed. He reluctantly showed something that didn’t look authentic, but we still got intimate. During that moment, I asked if he’d slept with anyone on his trip. He proudly said he’d finally fulfilled his dream of sleeping with a white woman.

How did you react to that?

I pushed him off immediately. He didn’t understand why I was upset. According to him, sleeping with a white woman wasn’t cheating because “white women are superior.” He said if it were a black woman, that would be cheating.

I was disgusted. I told him it was weird to fetishise white women. When he kept insisting it didn’t matter, I demanded my money back. He said his bank app still wasn’t working, so I left angrily. For months, I didn’t get my refund.

Back at school, I found out almost everyone knew he was a liar. He told girls he’d “spend dollars” on them, then ended up borrowing money from them. One day, I saw him with a girl near my hostel. I walked up to them and publicly told the girl to run if she valued her money. After I embarrassed him, he finally refunded me. That was the last time I heard from him.

Phew. Did you meet anyone better after?

Yes. I met Jay* in early 2024 through mutual friends who thought we’d click. And we really did. From the beginning, it was easy conversations and good vibes. We started dating two months later.

Around that time, I planned a staycation with my girlfriends. On that trip, one of the guys they invited sexually assaulted me while I was passed out. When I told my friends, they handled it as a joke, so I brushed it off.

Jay was the first person to take me seriously. He told me those girls weren’t my friends and pointed out the ways they pushed my boundaries. Because of him, I was able to end the friendship. That event made me love him even more. Sadly, our relationship ended a few months after.

What caused the breakup?

We couldn’t survive a long-distance relationship. We graduated in April, and our lives began to move in different directions. When I noticed our communication was slipping, I told him it was best to end things. Staying longer would eventually make the breakup hurt more. He understood and agreed. We ended on good terms in June 2024.

Even a year later, I still miss him sometimes. I still compare other men to him. But I know the breakup was the right choice.

How have your experiences shaped what you want from love?

The bad relationships taught me to trust my gut. If something feels off, I no longer explain it away. I don’t compromise on my values.

From my good relationship, I learned not to write everyone off. People deserve a clean slate until they prove otherwise. I also learned to love my own company. And I genuinely believe there are many fish in the sea. If I could meet someone like Jay after two disasters, there’s no reason I won’t meet someone even better later.

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

10/10. This is the longest I’ve been single, and I’ve grown to value my peace. Until I meet someone who can add to that peace, I’m very happy on my own.

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On the Streets is a Zikoko weekly series about the chaos of modern dating: from situationships and endless talking stages, to heartbreak and everything it means to be single in today’s world.

For Tayo* (24), his love life has always been tangled with insecurity. After years of trying to fit in and staying in a turbulent relationship, he realised he’d spent most of his life defining himself through the people he dated.

On this week’s episode, he talks about his dating history and why he’s choosing to take a step back and figure out who he is on his own.

What’s your current relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

I’m single. It’s the first time in years that my ex isn’t constantly on my mind. It feels strange, but I think it’s for the best. This phase is forcing me to learn who I am outside a romantic relationship.

So how did you get to this point? Tell me about your dating experiences.

Growing up, I was awkwardly tall and chubby with lots of pimples on my face. My insecurities made me feel weak and unattractive, and I believed my mates didn’t like me. I gravitated toward older boys who acted like the tough guys in the area because being around them made me feel accepted.

I only started to overcome those feelings after secondary school when I met Tina*. We met while I was writing WAEC in 2016. My friends and I always passed by her mother’s shop to buy drinks, and she’d insult us for littering the shop with biscuit nylons. One day, she annoyed my guys so much that they wanted to beat her, but I begged them to let her go. That moment softened her attitude towards me.

Not long after, she wrote me a letter expressing her feelings. My friends teased me badly about it, but it pushed me to finally approach her. I bought her a gift, told her I felt the same way, and we started dating.

That’s cute. How did the relationship go?

It went really well. We spent a lot of time together and were honest with each other. When I left for school in another state, we maintained our relationship through calls and visits.

But by our third year together, the cracks started to show. Our communication had reduced, and she didn’t seem as invested anymore. When I came home for the 2020 COVID break, I saw chats with another guy on her phone. They’d never met, but the messages felt too intimate. She insisted it didn’t count as cheating, and we argued about it. Eventually, she suggested we break up if I felt uncomfortable. I agreed even though it hurt.

How did you handle the breakup?

I wanted to move on as fast as possible. When I got back to school, I tried talking to other girls, but they turned me down repeatedly. My insecurities resurfaced, and I began to question my looks. My friends calling me Big T made things worse. Being single forced me to confront everything I’d been avoiding about myself, and I hated it.

I finally met Aisha*, seven months after the breakup with Tina.

Great. Tell me about her.

We had several mutuals online, so I followed her. We started chatting, realised we attended the same school, met up at a cycling hangout, and started dating two months later.

At first, things felt great. She communicated well and seemed very open. But she was emotionally unstable and grieving her mother’s death. She’d call crying at odd hours, and I always showed up. It became overwhelming. She self-harmed occasionally and had unpredictable mood swings. I was constantly on edge trying to fix everything. I even started having panic attacks because of the stress.

A few months in, she told me she’d cheated. She said she did it because she was bored. It crushed me, but I excused it as a mistake because of her unstable emotional state. The relationship eventually collapsed after we entered a long-distance phase following graduation. By mid-2023, she met someone new and broke up.

Realising I’d been used as emotional support didn’t help my issues. I became jaded about the idea of talking to someone new and considered getting back with Tina. I felt the devil I knew was better than an angel I didn’t. Since Tina had blocked me after we broke up in 2020, I asked a mutual friend to talk to her.

Did that work?

It did. She unblocked me and we began chatting again. We arranged to hang out and talk about the past. Since I now lived permanently in the same city, we spent a lot of time together. She admitted she still had feelings for me, and we decided to try again at the end of 2023.

Unfortunately, the second phase didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.

What happened?

She’d become a video vixen, and a lot of her work involved being around male artists, dancers, and entertainers. I struggled with it. Seeing her flirt on camera triggered all my insecurities. We often argued about it, and it didn’t help that her friends didn’t like me. I always felt judged around them. Even though things were rocky, we kept trying, but she started pulling away again.

In November 2024, she slept over at a guy’s house after a party. She said she was drunk and couldn’t go home. I knew something had happened because she doesn’t lie well. She eventually admitted they made out but didn’t have sex. I saw it as betrayal and told her she had to choose between the relationship and the lifestyle that kept putting her in compromising situations. She chose her career.

We broke up.

That must’ve hurt.

Terribly. I obsessed over her Instagram stories, compared myself to every guy she posted, and hated how my body looked in comparison. I was young with a pot belly, and instead of working on it, I beat myself up.

Barely a month after our breakup, I got drunk one night and called her. I apologised for everything and told her I missed her. We eventually rekindled things for the third time.

Oh. Were things different this time around?

Not really. I bottled everything up and decided to ignore her job to keep the peace. I stopped complaining, but she didn’t like that I refused to repost her work or publicly support it. A few months after we got back together, she started complaining about feeling unsupported and emotionally disconnected from me.

Then, in July this year, while we were hanging out, she told me she no longer felt the same way. She’d been uninterested for months, but I refused to take the cue. I begged her, and when she insisted on ending it, we got into a verbal fight where I insinuated she was cheating. She told me to work on my insecurities because that was the main reason her feelings fizzled out. By the time I got home to apologise, she’d blocked me everywhere. That was the final breakup.

I’m sorry. How have these experiences shaped your idea of love?

I’ve learned there’s a thin line between loving someone and projecting your insecurities onto them. After reflecting, I realised that even though Tina was manipulative, most of my jealousy stemmed from how I perceived myself, not what she was doing.

Even though it’s early, I hope to date again. But I want to be a better partner first. I’ve been working out and building confidence, so I don’t keep seeking validation from relationships.

Finally, how are the streets treating you these days? Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10.

5/10. It is lonely. It’s lonely. I haven’t been single for a while, so everything feels new. Some days are rough, but I’m taking it a day at a time and slowly starting to enjoy the growth.

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For most of her life, Sekinah* (51) believed marriage was the key to fulfilment. Two deeply traumatic unions later, she learned the hard way to create her own happiness.

On this week’s episode, Sekinah* opens up about her dating history and why she’s made peace with walking through life alone.

What’s your current relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

I’m single. I never imagined the happiest phase of my life would come after two failed marriages, but here I am.

That’s great to hear. How did you get to this point?

My first real relationship started in 1999, after university. I was very religious and conservative in school, so I never dated. After graduation, I started feeling pressured because my mates were getting into relationships and marriages, and I felt left behind.

While preparing for my NYSC passing out parade, I met Abdul*. I’d gone to my posting area for the last time and was trying to get a cab during heavy traffic. He stopped and offered me a ride home. He seemed kind, responsible. Because it was late, he even followed me in to explain why I’d shown up with him by that time. I developed a crush immediately.

Cute. How did things progress from there?

He started visiting often and eventually said he planned to marry me. I was over the moon. We barely knew each other for seven months before he proposed. My family agreed, and we got married in July 2000.

But once I moved in, I realised I had married a stranger. He drank heavily and often disappeared for hours. Barely days after our wedding, he slapped me so hard I fell on a chair because I complained about his behaviour. That was only the beginning.

Anytime we argued, he beat me, sometimes for no reason at all.

That must have been terrifying. How did you cope?

I lived in constant fear and depression. I hoped getting a job would help my situation, but even that gave him more reason to hit me. If I wasn’t home by 4 p.m., he accused me of wandering around. I was also trying to conceive at the time, and every failed attempt deepened my frustration and sadness.

When I reported him to my family, they told me to handle him more wisely since I was already married. Even our religious leaders I ran to, advised me to endure. Whenever they confronted him, he came home and beat me even more. I felt completely trapped.

Sounds tough. Did you try to leave?

An incident with a male colleague in February 2002 pushed me over the edge. The guy dropped me off at home because I was running late. Abdul heard from the gateman and accused me of bringing men to his house. He beat me so badly that he pierced my arm with a broken louvre. Thankfully, our neighbours intervened. That night, I ran away and never returned.

I went back to my uncle and told them I was done with the marriage.

How did they take it?

My uncle and his wife supported me. They refused Abdul’s attempts to bring me back and said it was good I left before he killed me. His parents insulted me and took his side, but I was just glad to be free.

However, living with my family again soon became suffocating. They kept asking what was next and introduced me to men they thought were suitable, not realising I was still traumatised. After a year, I saved enough to move out.

For the first time in my life, I enjoyed my freedom. I met men casually and had fun, but people judged me. My married friends distanced themselves. One even cut me off because her husband said I was a bad influence on her. Slowly, I became a loner.

Meanwhile, everyone around me was starting families. I pretended not to care, but at night, I cried. The loneliness was overwhelming.

I’m sorry. Did you eventually try to date again?

I did. I met Wahab* in 2006 through one of his friends. He was married but said he wanted me as a second wife. He spent a lot of time at my place, and I already felt like his wife. I convinced myself that if I stayed with him, he’d eventually marry me.

But after two years together, he suddenly married a young girl who’d just finished school. He met her while he was still with me. Shortly after he told me about his new marriage, he stopped picking my calls and ghosted me.

That must’ve hurt.

I thought my life was over. I couldn’t believe I was in my mid-30s, divorced, childless, and unwanted. Depression slowly crept in again. Eventually, I forced myself to focus on work and took in some of my siblings’ children. Caring for them helped ease the loneliness.

I didn’t expect to date again, but in 2010, a friend introduced me to James*. He was a retired widower with grown children, and he seemed genuinely kind in a way I hadn’t experienced in years. We maintained a long-distance relationship for over a year before having a quiet court wedding in 2012.

Were things any better with James?

Barely. He was manipulative and treated me like his personal cash cow. Though he presented himself as financially secure, he’d squandered his retirement funds and contributed nothing to the household. I bought the food, paid the bills, and ran the entire household while he entertained friends.

His children added to my stress. Whenever they visited, they were rude and treated me like a maid. They left dirty plates everywhere and expected me to clean up. When I complained, he told me to understand them and treat them as my children.

I desperately wanted a child of my own, but even after two IVF cycles, it didn’t happen. Still, I stayed with him for more than nine years.

That sounds like a lot of time to stay in an unhappy marriage. Why didn’t you leave?

I was ashamed. I felt foolish for walking into another bad marriage. How would I explain two divorces? My family would judge me, and everyone would assume I was the problem. So I pretended everything was fine.

What ultimately led me to leave happened a few days before Christmas in 2021. I intentionally refused to cook because I was exhausted. When my husband’s grown son came into the kitchen and didn’t find food, he dragged me by my clothes and threatened to beat me. James sat there watching. When I asked him to defend me, he blamed me for not cooking. In that moment, I realised he’d never have my back.

I packed my things quietly and told him I was travelling home for the new year. As soon as I got home, I asked for a divorce. He begged, but I was done.

It’s been three years since I walked away, and I’m glad I did. I eventually stopped mourning my childlessness and adopted a young girl, and took in some of my nieces. I feel fulfilled living this way, even though I never thought I would.

Nice. How have all these experiences shaped your idea of love and relationships?

You don’t need marriage to be happy. Our society treats marriage as a way to control women, not a partnership. While it works for some, I’ve decided marriage is off the table for me. I wish younger women would stop rushing. If I hadn’t pressured myself into marriage early, I might have avoided so much pain.

Finally, how are the streets treating you these days? Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10.

10/10. I feel fresher and lighter. I have my peace, and no one is draining me emotionally or financially.

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On the Streets is a Zikoko weekly series about the chaos of modern dating: from situationships and endless talking stages, to heartbreak and everything it means to be single in today’s world.

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At 44, Malik* has loved deeply, lost painfully, and learned to live with the weight of regret. From a teenage romance that defined his youth to a forced relationship that left him raising a child alone, finding love has been difficult.

In this story, he opens up about his dating history and why he’s made peace with walking through life alone.

What’s your current relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

I’m single and mostly resigned to my fate that I’ll always be. I believe the woman I was destined to be with died, and it’s all my fault.

That sounds tough. How did you arrive at that conclusion? Walk me through your dating life.

My first relationship was with Faiza*. In 1996, when I was about to enter SS1, we met at Arabic school and became close friends. We lived in the same community, so it didn’t take long before we started dating. Our parents even knew each other. Everyone knew us as the Romeo and Juliet of our area.

Things were great until after secondary school in 2000. I got admission into a polytechnic, but Faiza decided she didn’t want to continue schooling. She got a paid job at a computer firm. That was when her attitude began to change.

In what ways?

She started hanging out with different men from work. Whenever I asked, she’d say they were just friends. I couldn’t do much, so I ignored it, but our relationship slowly faded. She stopped visiting as often, and I kept noticing new expensive things on her. When I asked about them, she got defensive. Deep down, I knew something wasn’t right.

She also started insulting me, calling me unmanly because I wasn’t hairy. I became so insecure that I started buying beard oil and trying to change myself for her. Meanwhile, there was a guy from her office who had everything she said I lacked. Before long, people around started saying they were sleeping together.

Oh. Did you confront her?

I did. She denied everything because I didn’t have solid proof. I eventually dropped it, but the trust was gone. About a month later, she told me she wanted to end the relationship. She said she was tired of waiting on me for marriage. I begged her to reconsider since I had only a year left in school, but she didn’t care.

I refused to accept it at first. I kept visiting her family, hoping she’d change her mind. She told me to stop coming, but I said even if we weren’t together, I still had a relationship with her family. Not long after, they started acting strange, too. One of her sisters even told me outright to stop coming.

That was when it truly hit me that we were done. I was heartbroken. I could barely focus on school. It was a miracle I didn’t fail my final exams.

How did you cope with the breakup?

For a long time, I shut down emotionally. I later heard she was dating another guy from our area, and that hurt even more because she’d been the only girl I ever really loved.

After my NYSC, I got a job that took me to the East. That distance helped me heal. I visited Lagos occasionally but avoided her. On one of those visits back home in 2005, I met Hafsat*. She worked at a nearby chemist as an attendant. I was lonely, and she was very friendly. We started hooking up, and it stayed casual until she got pregnant.

It was so hard to accept what happened. I was barely 25 and not ready to be a father. I even tried to talk her out of keeping the pregnancy, but she told my mum, who sided with her. I had no choice but to support her.

The pregnancy forced us into a relationship neither of us was ready for.

And how did the relationship go?

It wasn’t the smoothest ride. I was mostly away for work in another state while she stayed in Lagos. Sometimes she slept over at my mum’s place, but soon, money, shoes and bags went missing whenever she was around. My mum complained, but I defended her. I didn’t want to accuse the mother of my unborn child without proof, but it caused tension between them.

She gave birth to our son in July 2006, and that changed everything. I started to feel hopeful again, like we could make it work. I took on side gigs to earn more money and told her I wanted to start saving for our future.

She even encouraged me to join her daily contribution group. I trusted her with the money because I thought we were building something together. But four months later, everything collapsed.

What happened?

My mum called one day to say Hafsat had dropped our 10-month-old baby off with her and disappeared. I tried reaching her but couldn’t. Even her brother — the only family I knew — said he didn’t know where she was. I feared she’d been kidnapped and almost went to the police.

Then, a month later, she called. She said she’d left because she was tired of the relationship and motherhood. She told me to let my mum raise our son. When I asked about the money, she avoided the question. It was about ₦300k in total. I was devastated.

That must’ve been really painful. How did you recover from that?

I focused on my work and my son, but it wasn’t enough to mask the anger and loneliness that consumed me. In 2008, I moved back to Lagos for a new job. That was when Faiza came back into my life.

Wait. How did that happen?

She’d been in a terrible accident that left her hospitalised for months and cost her one eye. I heard about it and decided to visit. Seeing her again brought back old feelings. She apologised for the past, and I forgave her.

We started talking again and got back together at the end of 2009. It felt like fate had given us a second chance. She was kinder, more mature, and treated my son well. But I also didn’t trust her completely.

Why not?

I couldn’t shake the fear that she might hurt me again. I also wanted to be sure I wasn’t just a rebound. The man she’d been dating left her after the accident, and she felt vulnerable. Then she started pressuring me to marry her. I wasn’t ready.

She reminded me of the promise I made years ago when I’d begged her to wait for me. I tried to explain that I wasn’t the same person anymore; I had responsibilities and a child to raise. But she didn’t want to hear it. She gave me an ultimatum and broke up in 2011 when I refused to marry her.

I tried to win her back, but she stood her ground. Her mum even insulted me, calling me a coward. I eventually let her go. Then, less than a year later, she got married to a much older widower.

Right. How did that make you feel?

It crushed me. She cut me off completely after she got married, and it felt like losing her all over again. I tried distracting myself with casual flings, but nothing worked.

Three years later, I heard she had died.

What? How?

They said it was a brief illness. I went to her burial and cried like a child. I couldn’t shake off the guilt. A part of me believed I was somehow responsible for her death. Her husband didn’t even seem to mourn her. He remarried soon after. Sometimes, I think if I’d just married her, maybe she’d still be alive. Since her death, I’ve found it difficult to form serious romantic relationships.

I’m sorry. How have these experiences shaped your idea of love and relationships?

I’ve grown detached from the whole idea of love. The two times I tried only brought me pain, and I still haven’t forgiven myself for how things turned out. Sometimes I wish I’d been less cautious and taken the risk of being with the person I loved before I lost her.

Finally, how are the streets treating you these days? Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10.

I’m content with the peace I have now. My focus is on my son and the life we’re building together. I don’t think there’s anything left for me in relationships.

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At 21, Mercy* has experienced different shades of love: the thrill of her first relationship, the sting of unreciprocated effort, and the guilt of leading someone on. In this story, she reflects on the lessons each one taught her and how her experiences have impacted how she sees love.

What’s your relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

I’m single and searching for someone I genuinely like who feels the same way about me. But so far, my dating experiences have been mostly disappointing.

Walk me through your dating life. How did you get here?

I didn’t start dating until my second year of uni in 2023, when I met Prince*. We were classmates before I switched departments. One day, he walked up to me while I was buying food and struck up a conversation. Soon, we were chatting almost every day.

We were basically in a situationship.I avoided making it official because we’d become so close within a few weeks. Then, on his birthday in August, we fought after he checked my phone and saw I was talking to other people. I felt guilty for ruining his day, so the next time he asked me out, I said yes.

How did that relationship go?

It was nice at first, but I soon noticed traits that made me realise we wouldn’t last. He made a lot of money from “yahoo yahoo”, but never spent on me.

One time, I even helped him message a client after he fell asleep. He cashed out over a million naira, and I expected him to appreciate me, but he just went silent. I was his girlfriend, yet he couldn’t even share his win. If it were the other way around, I would’ve celebrated with him. That hurt me deeply.

Another issue was the emotional disconnect. I’m expressive, but he never met me halfway. I once wrote him a handwritten letter about how I felt, and instead of appreciating it, he asked what I expected him to do with it. That was when I realised he wasn’t my person.

After a while, I started to lose interest. There was a guy in my lodge, Abel*, who often flirted with me. He was more romantic and emotionally open, and I was drawn to that. The more I compared them, the clearer it became that Abel and I were more compatible. So, in November 2023, I ended things with Prince and started a fling with Abel.

What was being with Abel like?

I felt more comfortable with him since we had known each other longer. We’d been friends since 2022. When things started falling apart with Prince, we got closer — hanging out, spending nights in each other’s rooms, and eventually sleeping together.

At first, I did not have real feelings for him. I just enjoyed how much he liked me. But over time, his affection turned into obsession.

How so?

He was jealous and controlling. Once, we went out to buy food, and I laughed at something another guy said. He came back angry and picked a fight. He always wanted to go through my phone and even messaged one of my male friends to warn him off.

At the start of 2024, I found out he had cloned my phone. I got a notification that a laptop had logged into my account. A friend helped me check, and we saw it was his device. Even after I confronted him, he insisted he had the right to know what I was up to.

It scared me, but detaching wasn’t easy. We broke up and got back together a few times until it finally ended in July 2024.

Phew. How did your love life look after that?

I didn’t stay single for long. A few weeks after we broke up, I met David* during a retreat at a hotel. He was also a student from my school, and I’d always had a crush on him because he was handsome. We started hanging out and had sex.

But as soon as I got back to school, the red flags appeared. He smoked a lot, and most of our time together revolved around sex. It wasn’t long before I realised I wasn’t the only woman in the picture.

One day, I picked up his phone and saw a message from another girl saying she enjoyed the sex they had had a few days earlier. I was with him the day before. When I confronted him, he kicked me out of his place.

He ignored me for days until he wanted to see me again. He made a case for himself and claimed that even though he slept with her, I was the one he liked. I foolishly believed him.

Hmm.

He’d often ask me for money, and I’d send it. He used that same money to buy weed and take out other girls. I loved him the most, and that made it hard to leave.

When I left for my internship in October, our communication started fading. I still made the effort to keep things going, but when we finally met again months later, it was because he wanted to ask me for money. That was my breaking point. I realised he was just using me. I stopped putting in effort, and the whole thing died slowly.

Earlier this year, David tried to rekindle things. I made him beg — the same way I used to — then I blocked him. It felt really good.

Did you meet anyone new afterwards?

At the start of this year, I met Tony* online. Even though I told him I wasn’t interested, he didn’t stop pursuing me. I stopped pushing back when he began sending me money.

He believes we’ve been in a relationship since July, but I’m just playing along because of the financial help. I haven’t even met him in person. There’s no emotional connection for me. He also tries too hard to please me and has no mind of his own, which isn’t what I want from a partner.

I feel guilty sometimes because I know I’m leading him on. I even tried to like him back, but it’s just not happening. So I’ve decided to keep things this way until I’m done with school later this year. Since I consider myself single, I’ve been exploring other sexual connections that actually interest me.

I see. So, how would you say these experiences have shaped your idea of love and relationships?

I’ve learned that when someone shows you who they are, believe them. Their actions will always make it clear. If you’re confused about how someone feels, it probably means they’re not into you. Don’t rationalise it.

Even though I’ve had bad experiences, I still believe in love. But I’ve also realised I’m not a saint and recognise my own toxic patterns.

Finally, how are the streets treating you these days? Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10.

I’d rate it a 5/10. Being single has its perks — I have options and freedom — but I still want to love someone who genuinely reciprocates my feelings.

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After Tobi (25)* fell hard for his best friend of 14 years, their simple friendship stretched into years of quiet longing, jealousy, and eventually, heartbreak. He opens up about falling for his closest friend, how it affected his other relationships, and how it cost him both the romance he wanted and the friendship he cherished.

What’s your relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

I’m currently single. I’ve spent several years secretly in love with my closest friend, but I’m finally learning to accept that it may never lead anywhere.

Oh. How did things get to this point?

I’ve known Mimi* for as long as I can remember, but our friendship started in 2011. We attended the same church, and that year, our families grew close. We both went to the same boarding school in Osun, and our parents took turns picking us up for holidays. We soon became fond of each other.

From the beginning, Mimi was the charismatic one. She was smart, beautiful, and popular. I was the quiet, awkward boy who mostly kept to himself. I got bullied sometimes, but Mimi always stood up for me. She never acted like she was too cool for me, even when surrounded by people who were.

Through secondary school, she dated the popular boys while I watched from the sidelines. I started liking her toward the end of school. At first, I thought it was a minor crush that would fade, but it didn’t.

We graduated in 2017, and I started thinking about confessing my feelings. But before I could, she pushed me to chase Ann*, another girl from our church who was going to the same university I’d applied to. I figured dating someone else would help me move on. Ann and I got into a relationship later that year.

How did the relationship go?

It was good at first. We already knew each other from church, so everything flowed easily.. We did everything together, and for a while, I my feelings for Mimi.

Ann and I dated for almost three years. We had our small disagreements over the friends she kept, but overall, we were good together. It was my first real relationship, and I held on tightly.

Things changed when she got a scholarship to study in the Netherlands. She’d always planned to leave because our university offered her a course she didn’t like.

When she finally left travelled at the end of 2019, we promised to keep things going. But almost immediately, we drifted apart. One day, she just stopped responding and ghosted me. I haven’t heard from her since.

That must’ve been tough.

It hurt badly. The pandemic came soon after, and being isolated made it worse. I was in my third year and just sank into depression.

During that period, Mimi and I reconnected. She’d just gotten out of a relationship, and we started spending more time together. We’d hang out on Sundays after church and talk for hours. Slowly, all the feelings I thought I’d buried came rushing back.

I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t sure if it was a rebound or if I still genuinely liked her. Still, I started dropping hints. I’d send reels and stories about people falling for their best friends and ask what she thought. She always laughed them off.

Then at the start of 2021, she got into another relationship.

Shoot. How did that make you feel?

When she first told me about him, I smiled and said I was happy for her, but inside, it felt like someone had punched me. I tried to pull away, but it was hard because we’d grown so close.

Idris*, her boyfriend, was older and already working. He had money, and I felt jealous but uneasy — something about him didn’t sit right with me.

As their relationship progressed, it became clear he wasn’t good for her. He was manipulative and always promised to change after every fight or cheating incident. She’d call me crying, but refused to leave because she believed he’d change.

I didn’t judge her. I just listened because I didn’t want her to stop confiding in me. I liked that I was always the first person she ran to with her issues and that I knew more about her than Idris ever could.

In 2022, she called one night, crying because Idris insulted her for checking his phone. I was watching a match, but rushed to her apartment. She cried until she fell asleep on my shoulder. That night, I don’t know what possessed me, but I took her phone and texted her boyfriend, pretending to be her. I told him to end the relationship, and I deleted the conversation.

It was silly to think they wouldn’t find out. They talked about it the next day and realised I was the culprit. She was furious and said I’d crossed a line. I felt terrible and embarrassed because I realised I’d let my emotions control me. She eventually forgave me, but her boyfriend didn’t. He made it a talking point in their relationship and fought her about our closeness, but Mimi refused to cut me off. That intensified my hope that she felt something for me, too.

Unfortunately, by 2023, she started pulling back, probably to protect her relationship. At that point, I was tired of the mixed signals and told myself I had to move on. I joined Bumble, partly as a joke and partly as a distraction. That was where I met Mercy.

Did you find better luck with her?

We matched in July 2023, just a few weeks after I joined Bumble. She was bubbly, funny, and very confident. I was fascinated by her energy.

But honestly, I was still stuck on Mimi. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I compared everything Mercy did to her, even subconsciously. For instance, I became critical about how Mercy dressed until she called me out on it.

After about seven months in a talking stage, she asked if I wanted something serious. I couldn’t give her a clear answer. I was scared to commit in case Mimi ever came around. Mercy got tired of waiting and ended things in January 2024.

I tried to go back a few weeks later, but it was too late. She’d moved on. I don’t blame her.

Curious. What was happening with Mimi at this time?

Mimi was still with Idris. But by May 2024, he called things off. She was devastated and turned to me again.

We were both working in Lagos, and she sometimes came over to my place to clear her head. My feelings for her kept growing, but I didn’t confess them immediately. I thought if I gave it some time, she would finally see me differently now that she was single.

Did you ever tell her how you felt?

I did. Around November last year, when she finally seemed over Idris. I texted her because I was too nervous to say it in person. I told her how much I appreciated her, how it would be nice to end up with someone who truly knew me, and then confessed that I’d loved her for years.

She said she needed time to process it. When she didn’t respond the next day, I went to her house. That was when she told me she’d never really thought of me that way and was still healing from her breakup. It wasn’t an outright rejection, so I held on to hope.

But after that conversation, everything changed. Our chats became awkward. She’d change the topic whenever I brought up my feelings, and eventually started avoiding me. I panicked at the thought of losing our friendship, so I took everything back and begged her to forget I’d said anything.

She insisted nothing was wrong, that she didn’t want me to be a rebound, which was why she hadn’t given me a definite response. I believed her since we still texted and kept our Snapchat streaks, even if it wasn’t as frequent.

But in January, a friend from church mentioned she had gone on a date with someone else.

That must’ve stung.

It did. I was shocked and angry. I texted her immediately, and she admitted it. She said she didn’t tell me because she didn’t want things to get awkward. That hurt even more. We’d gone from sharing every detail of our lives to her blocking me on her stories so I wouldn’t see she was on a date.

I was furious and lashed out at her, but she said she’d started to notice I was becoming too attached and obsessed with her. That made me even angrier. Then she said she needed space, and we shouldn’t talk for a while.

Hmmm.

I couldn’t sleep for days. For months, I felt too depressed to work or interact with anyone who reminded me of her. A friend eventually advised me to leave Lagos for a while, so I requested a transfer to my company’s Ibadan branch in March.

The distance helped. Mimi later apologised for how she handled the issue, and now we talk occasionally, but only when necessary. She’s still with that same guy, which just confirms that any romantic hope I had is gone.

I’ve gone through every stage of grief over her. I’ve muted her, deleted her snaps, and finally accepted things for what they are.

Fair enough. Do you think you’re over her now?

Not completely, but I’m getting there. I’ve realised that maybe it wasn’t love, but attachment and obsession, just like she said. I built my entire emotional life around her, so letting go hasn’t been easy. I’m taking my healing slowly and trying to rediscover who I am outside of her.

After everything, how would you say these experiences have shaped your idea of love and relationships?

I’ve learned that if you feel a certain way about someone, just say it. Communicate and have mature conversations about your feelings. It helps you move on faster, even if things don’t go your way.

If I’d told Mimi earlier and she’d turned me down, maybe I would’ve moved on years ago. It still hurts that our friendship is strained, and I take responsibility for that.

Sometimes I think about Mercy and how things could’ve been different if I hadn’t held on to what wasn’t tangible. It was like leaving what I had for something that was never mine. Hiding my feelings out of fear only delayed the heartbreak and made me lose on all sides.

How are the streets treating you these days? Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10.

7/10. At least I’m no longer stuck waiting on someone who doesn’t feel the same. It’s a painful, but freeing reality.

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On the Streets is a Zikoko weekly series about the chaos of modern dating: from situationships and endless talking stages, to heartbreak and everything it means to be single in today’s world.

After years of battling insecurities, fertility struggles, and the pressure to prove she was “wife material,” Ada* (30) thought she’d finally found stability with a patient, God-fearing man who seemed ready to build a future with her. But after nearly seven years, he turned out to be nothing more than a thief of time, leaving her heart shattered in the worst possible way.

What’s your relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

I just found out my fiancé of six years got married to someone else. I’m still trying to process it, but I guess I’m single now. It hurts, but it’s for the best. The whole situation opened my eyes to the emotional abuse I’d endured in my relationships.

I’m sorry. But how did things get to this point?

It started with my self-esteem issues and need for acceptance.

Growing up, I battled health problems that made me self-conscious and convinced me I wasn’t attractive. That insecurity followed me into adulthood and shaped how I interacted with romantic relationships.

My first serious one was in 2010 when I met John through his younger sister. I was 15, almost done with secondary school and excited to date an older guy. I didn’t know what a healthy relationship looked like, so I jumped in.

How did it go with John?

I thought we were fine until I realised how much I tolerated. John had a habit of ghosting me for days whenever we disagreed. It made me scared to upset him, so I always gave in.

He was very close to his family. During semester breaks, I travelled to his village instead of going home. His family was traditional — they sold fufu, cooked with firewood, and swept with palm fronds. I wasn’t used to that lifestyle, but I forced myself to adjust to prove I was wife material. His sister once insulted me for making fufu wrongly and said my mother hadn’t trained me well. When John took her side, I started rethinking everything.

He also mocked my snoring, saying I disturbed the whole compound at night. The final straw came when he started pressuring me for sex even though we’d agreed to wait until marriage. When I refused, he called off the relationship. By then, I was too tired to fight for it. That was in 2017.

Must’ve been hard.

It was. But I was already falling for someone else, so it was easy to walk away. Solomon*, a guy from church I’d admired for years, had started giving me attention.

Tell me about Solomon.

I’d known Solomon since 2009 through the Nigerian Catholic Youth Organisation, where he served as president. I was an exco, so we met during quarterly meetings. I admired him because he was very charismatic and a good orator. I never thought I had a chance since a lot of girls liked him.

In 2017, we exchanged numbers during a retreat. A year later, I wished him a happy birthday, and that was how we hit it off. By 2019, when I came to Lagos for holidays, he asked me to be his girlfriend.

Sweet. How did that relationship go?

At first, it felt perfect. Unlike John, he was intentional. He met my mum and siblings, checked up on them, and respected my boundaries about waiting until marriage — until my birthday in April 2020.

We’d planned the day together, but he ignored me all day. When he resurfaced, he apologised and said he wanted to make it up to me “specially” by making love to me.

Hmm.

Unfortunately, nothing about that moment, which I’d initially been saving for my wedding night felt special. Sex with him was painful and unfulfilling. In hindsight, that was the beginning of the end.

After COVID restrictions eased, I returned to the East. We went from talking every day to irregular communication. He blamed it on his job as the Archbishop’s secretary.

Even when I visited Lagos, he often cancelled our plans because of work. Still, I stayed.

By 2021, rumours started spreading that he was sleeping with other girls in my parish. One even showed me their chats.

Wait, what?

I confronted him about the rumours. He claimed it all happened before we started dating. I believed him and let it go because I’d idolised him. He knew all my insecurities and health struggles and made me feel safe.

That same year, my PCOS worsened, and doctors had to remove one ovary. They advised me to have kids soon. I couldn’t tell my family because we were still mourning my dad, but Solomon stood by me. He sent supportive messages and promised we’d marry by 2023.

That must’ve felt reassuring.

It did. He even said he didn’t mind my snoring, something I’d always been embarrassed about. But despite how comfortable he made me feel, he never took me out or acknowledged me publicly. He claimed he was protecting me because of his position. ghost me for weeks, then return with apologies. And I kept accepting him.

By 2024, I reminded him of his marriage promise. He met my family and even collected our wedding list but later said he wasn’t financially ready. He wanted to postpone the wedding till 2025. When I expressed worries based on my fertility issues, he insisted we could adopt if I couldn’t have kids.

That was when he dropped a bombshell: he wasn’t pressed about the issue since he had a 7-year-old child living with his parents all along.

Wow.

He said he’d kept it a secret to avoid scrutiny from the church. I was shocked and hurt that he’d hidden it for five years, but I forgave him. I just wanted to move forward.

By then, I’d finished my master’s and gotten a job in Ogun, so we only saw each other occasionally. Still, I believed our 2025 wedding was in sight.

But after his visit in September 2024, he ghosted again. This time, it was worse. He ignored my calls and messages for almost three months. When I finally reached him in December, he said he’d been depressed. He revealed that he’d slept with his ex and she claimed to be pregnant.

Oh my goodness.

I was shattered. He begged for patience while they confirmed the DNA and asked for space to “fix things.” We’d been together for six years, and I felt too invested to leave, so I agreed.

By February, he disappeared again. I came to Lagos hoping to see him, but couldn’t find him. He’d been transferred to a different deanery and moved to the Island. His sister acted cold and claimed she didn’t know me. Sometimes, he’d randomly pick up my calls, say he loved me, and hang up. Those months were a cycle of worry, anger, and confusion.

Then, two weeks ago, he reached out. He said he wanted to see me, and I told him I’d be in Lagos the next day. I was excited — it had been almost a year since we last saw each other.

When we finally met, he explained that his dad had been sick and shuttling between Lagos and the East made communication hard. He claimed he’d resolved things with his ex and only needed space to “ decongest” the negativity. I was annoyed but relieved we’d moved past it. He promised to visit again that Friday.

And did he visit?

No. Two days before the supposed visit, my younger sister called to ask if I was still dating Solomon because she’d seen his wedding photos on Facebook. I thought she was joking until I checked and realised he’d deleted his profile. She sent screenshots, and that was how I confirmed it was true.

I did some digging and found his wife’s page. He’d once stopped me from piercing my ears or fixing lashes and nails, yet his new wife had all of that. She’s pregnant too; most likely the ex he mentioned a while back. He proposed in February and married her on my birthday. I was furious and sent him the screenshots, but he never replied or picked up my calls.

When Friday came and he neither showed up nor reached out, it hit me that the relationship was over. It’s been a week since I found out he got married to someone else on my 30th birthday. I still don’t know how to piece my life back together after he wasted almost seven years of it. I’m too ashamed to open up to the few people who even knew about us.

I’m sorry you had to go through that. How have these experiences shaped your idea of love and relationships?

I’ve realised how much I settled because my self-esteem was so low that I thought no one else would ever love me. I saw more than enough signs, but ignored them until it was too late. Honestly, my grief is still very fresh, and I’m taking time to process everything and learn from it.

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

I’ll give it the barest minimum: 1/10. My new single life feels like a gut punch. I never imagined I’d be back here, and it’s still hard to accept my reality.

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On the Streets is a Zikoko weekly series about the chaos of modern dating: from situationships and endless talking stages, to heartbreak and everything it means to be single in today’s world.

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For Peter* (49), relationships have been a journey of highs and crushing lows. He opens up about betrayal, the challenges of raising children under difficult circumstances, and the hard lessons from two divorces that have reshaped his views on love and trust.

What’s your current relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

I’m currently single after two divorces. It’s not what I planned, but that’s where life has brought me. I’ve accepted that love may not be for everybody. I focus on my children now, that’s what matters most to me.

That’s tough. Let’s start from the beginning. How did you meet your first wife?

I’d lived with my uncle for almost 10 years in the city before I returned to my hometown around 2005. That’s when I met Sandra. Before her, I’d had a few relationships, but nothing serious. She was popular in the community, and we soon started talking about marriage.

A few months into courting her, she told me she was pregnant. I was 29. Even though it was sooner than I planned, I went to her family, paid the bride price, and we had a traditional wedding. We moved to the city just before her pregnancy began to show.

At first, our marriage was good. I ran a business centre and she had a small provisions store. Soon, we had our first child, then two more in quick succession. But each child added pressure. Our income barely covered the family, and even sending the kids to government schools was a struggle. Sandra kept complaining and comparing us to others, which made things even harder.

That must have been stressful.

We started fighting all the time. She grew distant and kept friends I didn’t approve of — women who constantly badmouthed their husbands. One time, she even embarrassed me at a hometown meeting, insulting me in front of everyone.

Then, in 2013, came the biggest shock of my life. I noticed she guarded her phone too much. One day, I tried using it to call my mum, and she snatched it away. My curiosity got the better of me, and when I eventually went through it, I saw messages to an unknown number. She was threatening a man, saying she would expose him if he didn’t send money for his child.

I confronted her, and she initially denied everything. But when I threatened to involve our families, she admitted our first child — the very reason I married her — wasn’t mine. He belonged to Festus*, the man she’d been with just before we met.

I was shocked and asked her to leave my house so I could think. Instead of apologising, she said she was tired of suffering with me, packed her things, and left for our hometown. I had to keep our other two children with my mother.

Even now, that’s one of the most painful experiences of my life.

I’m sorry. How did you move on from that?

I was shattered. I felt like a failure as a man and a husband. For a while, I drowned myself in drinking and self-pity. But I still believed I could find someone else who would treat me differently. That hope is what made me open up again when I met my second wife, Patience*.

Tell me about Patience

I met her in 2017 while she was doing NYSC. She often came to my business centre near the local government office to print documents. We got talking, and I told her everything about my past and children. She was kind and sympathetic, so I believed she wouldn’t betray me like Sandra did. We dated for a year and got married in 2018.

What was that marriage like?

At first, it was good, but the problems started soon enough. Patience was younger and harder to handle.

In what ways?

She was rude, and her mother had far too much control over her. If I said one thing and her mother said another, she would always follow her mother.

When she gave birth to our daughter in 2019, her mother came to stay with us. I still had baby items from my older children in good condition, so I suggested we use them instead of wasting money on new ones. Her mother threw everything away. She said it was her daughter’s first child and she wouldn’t accept hand-me-downs.

The woman also pressured me to buy expensive things, including wrappers for Patience that cost over ₦200k at the time. No matter what I did, she complained and pushed until I gave in. Meanwhile, I was supporting Patience, the baby, and catering to my older children in secondary school. Unlike Sandra, who at least assisted financially, Patience didn’t work. She stayed home and was more demanding.

She also never really embraced my older children. She didn’t ask them to visit or try to build a relationship. That hurt me. I married her expecting at least some empathy, but I didn’t get it.

So, what led you to end the marriage?

The turning point came after our daughter turned one. Patience suddenly insisted she wanted another child. I knew I couldn’t handle it — not financially, not emotionally. She pressured me to stop using protection, so I stopped sleeping with her altogether and started coming home late to avoid her nagging.

For almost three years, we barely had any intimacy. She accused me of being wicked for denying her more children. Her mother constantly insulted me and made everything worse.

One day in April 2022, I returned from work to find that Patience had taken our daughter and gone back to her parents’ house.

I tried everything, but all pleas fell on deaf ears. After chasing her for almost four months without success, I asked myself if it was even worth it. The marriage had been hell. When I officially filed for divorce, she suddenly wanted to mend the relationship, but my mind was made up. After five years together, the marriage ended. I’ve been single ever since.

I’m curious. How have these experiences shaped your idea of love and relationships?

They’ve shown me marriage isn’t for everybody. I tried twice and it didn’t work. I know that relationships can be beautiful, based on what I’ve seen around me, but I’d rather focus on my children and my finances. I don’t regret how things ended because none of it was my fault. If I ever date again, I wouldn’t take it up to the point of marriage. I need to protect my peace of mind.

Fair enough. How would you say the streets are treating you? Rate it on a scale of 1-10

9/10. Being single gives me freedom. Apart from the occasional loneliness, it’s nice knowing I can spend or save how I want and live on my terms.

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What’s your relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

What led you to that place? Walk me through your dating history.

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Hmm. How did Kola feel about your closeness with George?

I see. Did you get into any relationships after that?

Sounds cute.

That’s a lot to process. How did you handle it?

How did he handle that?

Right. Did you meet anyone after that?

Fair enough. How have these experiences shaped your idea of love and relationships?

Finally, how are the streets treating you these days? Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10.

What’s your relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

Let’s go back a bit. Can you walk me through your first marriage?

That sounds nice. What were the early days like?

In what ways?

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How did he respond?

Did things improve at all after you returned?

That must’ve been incredibly traumatic. How did you move on from that?

Tell me more about Wole.

Did you try dating again after relocating?

You mentioned reconnecting with someone from your past. Where do things stand now?

Don’t the reasons for the first breakup still exist?

Fair enough. How have these experiences shaped your idea of love?

Finally, how are the streets treating you? Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10.

What’s your relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

How did you get here? Walk me through your dating life.

Wow. How did you find out?

Did he ever change?

Tell me about him.

What kind of lies?

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So, did you end things seeing these red flags?

How did you react to that?

Phew. Did you meet anyone better after?

What caused the breakup?

How have your experiences shaped what you want from love?

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

What’s your current relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

So how did you get to this point? Tell me about your dating experiences.

That’s cute. How did the relationship go?

How did you handle the breakup?

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Great. Tell me about her.

Did that work?

What happened?

That must’ve hurt.

Oh. Were things different this time around?

I’m sorry. How have these experiences shaped your idea of love?

Finally, how are the streets treating you these days? Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10.

What’s your current relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

That’s great to hear. How did you get to this point?

Cute. How did things progress from there?

That must have been terrifying. How did you cope?

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Sounds tough. Did you try to leave?

How did they take it?

I’m sorry. Did you eventually try to date again?

That must’ve hurt.

Were things any better with James?

That sounds like a lot of time to stay in an unhappy marriage. Why didn’t you leave?

Nice. How have all these experiences shaped your idea of love and relationships?

Finally, how are the streets treating you these days? Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10.

What’s your current relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

That sounds tough. How did you arrive at that conclusion? Walk me through your dating life.

In what ways?

Oh. Did you confront her?

How did you cope with the breakup?

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And how did the relationship go?

What happened?

That must’ve been really painful. How did you recover from that?

Wait. How did that happen?

Why not?

Right. How did that make you feel?

What? How?

I’m sorry. How have these experiences shaped your idea of love and relationships?

Finally, how are the streets treating you these days? Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10.

What’s your relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

Walk me through your dating life. How did you get here?