This is Mary鈥檚 story, as told to Adeyinka

My life took an unexpected turn on January 16, 2019.

I鈥檇 been battling arteriovenous malformation (AVM) since 2010, so losing my right arm didn鈥檛 happen overnight. But no matter how long I鈥檇 lived with the condition, nothing prepared me for the reality of life after the amputation.

In those first few days, I wasn鈥檛 thinking about the future. I wasn鈥檛 thinking about the life I鈥檇 have or the things I鈥檇 still be able to do. I was simply trying to understand how my life would continue. 

When I finally returned home from the hospital, reality truly set in. I realised life wasn鈥檛 going to pause because I鈥檇 lost an arm. I still had to wake up every day and figure out how to live.

That sounded simple, but it wasn鈥檛. The physical recovery was intense and uncomfortable, but the emotional recovery was even harder. Looking back now, I realise what I thought was the end of my story became the beginning of a completely different one.

I had to relearn almost everything. There were days I cried because simple tasks suddenly felt impossible. I鈥檇 look at ordinary things like cooking and wonder if I鈥檇 ever be able to do them again. I couldn鈥檛 imagine carrying babies someday. Even the idea of ever living independently felt uncertain.

But I had to choose whether I would remain trapped in that pain or start figuring out what my new normal looked like.

Thankfully, I wasn鈥檛 figuring it out alone. My husband, who was my fianc茅 at the time, became one of my biggest support systems. He encouraged me through the moments when I doubted myself, and my family stood by me, too. 

Even with that support, there were moments I felt alone.

No matter how much people love you, they can鈥檛 fully understand what you鈥檙e feeling unless they鈥檝e lived through something similar. Sometimes, more than anything else, I wanted people to stop feeling sorry for me and believe I was still capable.

Eventually, I realised I also needed to believe that about myself. I started proving those fears wrong. I learnt to cook again. I became comfortable managing my home. I travelled, worked and created content. None of it happened overnight, but little by little, I realised that many of the things I鈥檇 written off as impossible simply required a different way of doing them.

Motherhood also reinforced that lesson in many ways.

After losing my arm, I became a mother to three boys. That experience completely changed how I saw myself because my children have never looked at me and seen a disability. They simply see their mum.

They don鈥檛 measure me by how many arms I have. They measure me by my love, presence and the way I care for them. Becoming a mother reminded me that I was still capable of building the family I鈥檇 always wanted.

My marriage evolved in much the same way. Like every couple, we鈥檝e had seasons that required adjustment. Losing my arm meant we had to learn new ways to support each other, and it taught us patience, teamwork, and understanding. We鈥檝e continued to grow together, just like any other family finding its rhythm.

After I settled into this new life, there were still days I struggled emotionally. And that鈥檚 actually how social media found me.

At first, I wasn鈥檛 trying to become a content creator. I came online because I was battling depression. It became a place where I could distract myself and gradually reconnect with life. As time passed, something unexpected happened. People began reaching out to tell me my story had encouraged them.

That changed how I approached my content. I decided I didn鈥檛 want to build a platform centred on disability. I wanted people to see my ordinary life. I wanted them to see me cooking, laughing with my family, raising my children, creating and working with brands. I wanted them to see me making mistakes like everyone else.

My missing arm is only a part of my story; it isn鈥檛 the whole story.

When I look back at the woman I was in January 2019, I鈥檇 tell her not to be afraid. I鈥檇 tell her she鈥檚 still going to laugh. She鈥檚 still going to build a beautiful family and become a mother to three amazing boys. She鈥檚 still going to build a community online and inspire people she鈥檚 never met.

Most importantly, I鈥檇 tell her that losing an arm will never mean losing herself. That鈥檚 also what I hope people remember when they come across my content. I hope they remember my smile before they remember my disability.

And if someone watches my videos believing that life doesn鈥檛 end because something difficult happens to you, then I鈥檝e achieved exactly what I set out to do.

I want people to see possibilities instead of limitations.

ALSO READ: My Husband Died After Our Daughter鈥檚 Autism Diagnosis

Dehinde* (41) and Busola* (38) met at a wedding party in 2016. On this week鈥檚 Love Life, they talk about the pregnancy scare that led to their engagement, the work trip that resulted in Dehinde getting another woman pregnant three years into their marriage, and how they navigated a crisis that would have broken most homes.

If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this聽.

What’s your earliest memory of each other?

Busola: 2016. I’d just come out of a five-year relationship a few months before we were introduced properly at his sister鈥檚 wedding. My mum saw how sad I was and kept trying to get me out of the house. When Dehinde’s family sent an invite to their event, she insisted I attend.

Dehinde: My mum literally walked Busola over to me and told me to take care of her. It was such an awkward moment. We knew each other a little; our families had crossed paths, but not well enough for my mum to hand her over to me like that. Still, I ended up hosting her for most of the party, and she seemed to have a good time.

Busola: Yes. He was a fantastic host. He kept sending food and drinks my way, even though he didn鈥檛 really stay around for conversations.

God abeg. So what happened after the wedding?

Busola: The following week, my mum asked if Dehinde had reached out to me. I was confused. I remember asking her why he’d need to. 

Dehinde: Funny thing is, my mum also called to ask how things were going with Busola. I was just as confused. There was nothing going on. We exchanged numbers at the party as a courtesy. We didn鈥檛 even text or call each other. But my mum鈥檚 question made me realise they鈥檇 actually tried to set us up, and neither of them had told us.

Mothers! Did you eventually call her?

Dehinde: If I’m being honest, I called mostly to satisfy my mum. She kept pestering me, and it was starting to get on my nerves. I wasn’t dating anyone and wasn’t planning to. I was seriously considering relocating, so dating wasn’t on my mind. My mum knew all of this, so I didn鈥檛 understand why she was moving funny. But I called Busola anyway, just so my mum would stop asking.

Busola: My own mum just asked about twice and didn鈥檛 bother me. She knew I was still recovering from my last relationship and wasn’t looking for anything new. In fact, we were both still hoping that my ex and I would reunite. She鈥檇 grown fond of him and was already referring to him as her son-in-law. But we had some family issues that couldn鈥檛 make the relationship move forward. 

Anyway, Dehinde eventually called, and I was surprised at how easy it was to talk to him. We had a decent conversation that flowed easily. Even though I later found out that his mum put him up to call, it didn鈥檛 feel like that.

Awww. Sounds sweet.

Dehinde: One call led to another, and before I knew it, we were talking almost every day. I told her about my dating history. She also told me everything about her ex, and I felt for her. Not pity, just genuine understanding, because I’d lost a long relationship too.

Busola: I liked that he didn’t try to rush me or push past what I was comfortable sharing. Some people would want to know exactly what made your last relationship fail. But he just listened to what I was comfortable sharing and didn鈥檛 push further. That made it easy to keep talking to him, even when I wasn’t sure what we were really doing. 

After about three months of constant talking and hanging out, we agreed to date properly.

Nice. Did your families know at that point?

Dehinde: Not right away. We kept it quiet at first. Both our families already knew each other, so we knew word would travel fast if we weren’t careful, and we wanted some time to figure things out between ourselves first.

Eventually, they found out. But we were already solid enough that it didn’t feel like a big deal.

What were the early days of the relationship like?

Busola: They were sweet. We understood each other a lot. We knew what we鈥檇 both been through in relationships, so there wasn’t a lot of explaining ourselves to do. We gave ourselves a lot of grace. Since our families already had a relationship, introducing him properly wasn’t stressful either. If anything, everyone was happy. I eventually found out it wasn鈥檛 even just our mums鈥� idea to set us up. Our siblings and aunties were involved. 

But yeah, things ran smoothly. We’d talk on the phone most evenings after work, and on weekends he’d come by my place, or I’d go over to his to talk for hours about nothing in particular. I don鈥檛 think we had any major issues.

Dehinde: I think I fell harder than I expected to. I went into it thinking I was just satisfying my mum, and somewhere along the line, I actually fell in love. Soon, everyone around us started expecting we’d take the next step, and honestly, we didn’t see a reason to wait.  We both had stable jobs, so there wasn’t really anything holding us back. I always told my mum I鈥檇 be married by 30. I was already 31, and a part of me just felt an intense push to take things to the next level.  Still, I wanted to take my time. I wanted the relationship to go on for over a year first.

Fair enough. So, when exactly did marriage enter the picture?

Dehinde: About a year into dating, Busola had a pregnancy scare. In the days we waited to find out, something in me felt like it was a sign to take the next step. I knew then that whether she was pregnant or not, I was ready to marry her. 

It turned out she wasn’t pregnant, but that whole experience had already shown me where my head was. I proposed two months later, at her parents’ house, with both our families there. I hadn’t planned for a public proposal, but the whole thing just kept getting bigger. Everyone wanted to be there.

Busola: I know he didn鈥檛 really go into details, but that pregnancy scare was actually quite serious. I was extremely sick, which didn鈥檛 help. But the way he was so calm and reassuring really helped. I suddenly went from being scared to asking, 鈥淲hat鈥檚 the worst that could happen?鈥� I didn鈥檛 get pregnant for a random person, and our families already knew we were together. I honestly don鈥檛 know why I was even worked up. 

In March 2018, he proposed. I was embarrassed because I hadn’t dressed up for the occasion at all; I thought it was just a regular family visit. Apparently, everyone else but me knew what was going on. We got married in August 2018, about six months after that.

What was the first year of marriage like?

Busola: Blissful. We were settling into life together, and it felt like we’d figured each other out well before the wedding, so there wasn’t a lot of adjusting to do.

Dehinde: But then our parents started asking about making babies almost immediately, which is normal for us as Nigerians. We weren’t in a rush, though. We just told ourselves that if it happened, it happened, and we carried on with our lives.

Busola: Towards the end of the second year, we started to worry a bit ourselves. I’d have delayed periods sometimes, get my hopes up, and then nothing. We tried not to treat it as an issue because it was still fairly early, but the pressure from family didn’t stop. My mother-in-law would call sometimes just to ask how I was feeling, and I knew exactly what she was asking about.

Dehinde: Honestly, two years isn’t that long in the grand scheme of things, but the constant questions from both sides of the family made it feel serious. I remember telling my mum to relax, that these things take their own time, but she wasn’t fully convinced.

Busola: It was a weird period. At some point, we even stopped attending family events because someone was either praying or asking about kids. 

Then Dehinde went and made things worse.

What do you mean?

Dehinde: I travelled for work that year, and I had a fling with a lady I met on the trip. I regretted it almost as soon as I got back to Lagos, and I genuinely tried to put it behind me and move on. I told myself it was a one-time lapse. I wanted to tell Busola immediately, but since I鈥檇 decided it wouldn鈥檛 happen again, I told myself there was no need.

Then, about two weeks later, I got a call from a strange number. It turned out to be the same lady. She told me she was pregnant and said I didn’t need to worry, that she only needed money to take care of it.

Oh

Dehinde: Part of me felt like I should have just sent the money and let it end there. But something pushed me to tell Busola first. We were already in our third year of marriage without our own child. As strange as it sounds, hearing that this woman was pregnant felt like confirmation for me that whatever was happening wasn’t necessarily on my side. So I went to her pastor and told him everything.

Curious. Why go through the pastor instead of telling her directly?

Dehinde: I needed someone else in the room. I鈥檇 stepped out and gotten another lady pregnant. I knew I鈥檇 deeply broken her trust and  didn鈥檛 know how to confront her alone. The pastor married us, so he felt like the right person. With him, I knew we also wouldn鈥檛 have to worry about our families hearing about what was going on in our home.

Right. So how did the conversation go? 

Busola: The moment the pastor showed up unannounced, I already sensed something was wrong. He doesn’t visit without a heads up. Once he explained what Dehinde had told him, I just sat down there. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I just said plainly that the lady couldn’t carry the pregnancy to term. I remember the pastor looking a bit surprised at how calm I was.

Dehinde: Her reaction threw me off a little. I’d expected her to yell or even walk out on me. She wasn’t dramatic about it at all, but she was very firm that the pregnancy couldn鈥檛 stay. She said it almost as if she were stating a fact, not a demand. I sent the money not long after, and that was the end of that issue, at least on the surface.

Busola, what was going through your mind at the time?聽

Busola: I was hurt that he would even step out. But, oddly enough, I also felt a strange sense of relief that he was fine, health-wise. I should mention that all this time, we鈥檇 not really been committed to fertility treatments. We refused to let external pressure make us feel like something was wrong. Again, this was just our third year.聽 So for me, it was like, no matter how his actions hurt, I knew he was fine.

Whatever emotions I felt were internal. Almost like I now had to figure out if I was fine. Why did someone else get pregnant so easily when we鈥檇 been trying, and nothing happened?

Was this why you stepped out, Dehinde?聽

Dehinde: It was purely coincidental.

Got it. Did your relationship feel different after this rough patch?

Busola: It did. We grew distant. We didn’t talk about it much because we didn’t want to give our families any reason to get involved. If word got out, it would have only added fuel to a fire we were already trying to douse. We kept up appearances at necessary family functions and barely said much to each other at home.

Dehinde: For about a year, it genuinely felt like we were living like strangers under the same roof. We still had a physical relationship, but it lacked the connection we once had. On top of that,  we鈥檇 started going for fertility treatments, both traditional and hospital-based, trying to figure out what was actually going on. Some weeks we’d go to the hospital for tests, other times my mother would insist we see someone she knew back home. We tried it all just to see what works.

Did the affair come up again between you during that period?

Busola: Not really. He’d told me it was a one-time mistake, and whether or not I could ever fully verify that, I believed him. 

Dehinde: I constantly reassured her that nothing like that had happened again, because it hadn’t. It was a mistake I regretted immediately, and I was determined never to put us in that position again. 

So, where are things now, after eight years of marriage?

Dehinde: We’re in a good place. We’ve built a lot together 鈥� careers, a home and a life we’re both proud of. We still don’t have a child of our own, but we’ve stopped letting that define how we see our marriage. There was a period where every conversation somehow circled back to it, but these days we’re able to talk about other things, plan for other things, without that hanging over every discussion.

Busola: We’re still trusting God with it. We’re still fairly young, so we haven’t lost hope. But even if it doesn’t happen the way we originally imagined, we know we’ll be fine. We’ve proven that to ourselves already, through everything we’ve survived together. I used to think a child would make our marriage complete, but I’ve come to see that we’re already whole as we are.

Have you ever talked about what things might look like if you’d kept that pregnancy and raised the child together?

Dehinde: We have, actually. We wonder what it would have looked like to raise that child, especially now that so many years have passed without one of our own coming along.

Busola: We don’t dwell on it for long, though. We made the decision, based on where we both were emotionally, and we’ve made peace with it. Bringing another woman’s child into the marriage in the middle of everything would have been a lot, and I’m not sure either of us could have handled it well back then.

What’s the best thing about being with each other after everything you’ve been through?

Busola: Dehinde is dependable. Even through the hardest parts of our marriage, he never gave up on us, and I never gave up on us either. I know exactly who I’m dealing with, for better or worse, and I like that level of certainty. He鈥檚 not perfect, but I鈥檓 able to tolerate his imperfections, just like he tolerates mine.

Dehinde: My wife is stronger than she gives herself credit for. I don’t take our love for granted. A lot of marriages wouldn鈥檛 have survived what ours went through, and I think about that often.

If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this聽.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your love life?

Dehinde: I’d say a 9. We’ve been through real tests, not just the small everyday disagreements, but something that could have ended a lot of marriages. The fact that we’re still here tells me we made the right choice in each other. 

Busola: I’ll also say an 8. We’re not a perfect couple, and we’ve had our share of pain, but we’re growing together, doing life together, and whatever happens with the child situation, I know we’ll handle it as a team. Eight years in, I still choose him, and I believe he still chooses me, too.

 *Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.

If you鈥檝e enjoyed reading Love Life, our flagship series on love, heartbreak, and relationships, we have exciting news. We鈥檝e partnered with Cassava Republic to publish a book based on the flagship. Coming January 2026, it鈥檚 about to be your favourite book.

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鈥淢en and women in white wrappers stormed the event鈥� 鈥� Dotun*, Wedding photographer

I鈥檝e covered quite a number of weddings, so you can usually tell when something feels off.  The d茅cor was almost entirely red with heavy traditional aesthetics, and the groom looked like he was in his late 50s while the bride couldn鈥檛 have been older than her mid-20s. He was obviously wealthy.

Halfway through the reception, we heard loud chanting outside. Suddenly, shirtless men in white wrappers and barefoot women dressed the same way walked into the venue. They marched to the stage and continued chanting. The groom calmly stood up and joined them. That鈥檚 when everyone realised he belonged to whatever group they were part of. The display lasted about 20 minutes before they left, but the atmosphere never recovered. Even the bride looked blindsided.

鈥淭he stepmother halted the event for one hour鈥� 鈥� Emmanuel*, Wedding photographer

Everything was running smoothly until it was time for the groom and his groomsmen to dance into the reception. The moment the alaga announced their entrance, a woman suddenly blocked the doorway with a basket and declared that nobody was entering unless they dropped money. Apparently, she was the groom鈥檚 stepmother.

At first, everyone thought she was joking, but she wasn鈥檛. She refused to let anyone pass without paying at least 鈧�1k. The alaga begged her to stop delaying the programme, but she refused to budge. The groom鈥檚 parents came over to intervene, and she still stood her ground. Eventually, the groomsmen reluctantly started dropping money just to move things along. The whole drama lasted almost an hour, and by then the entire hall knew what was happening. 

鈥淭he bride鈥檚 dad publicly called out the alaga iduro鈥� 鈥� Towobola*, Usher

At the engagement ceremony, the bride鈥檚 dad looked irritated and refused to participate in any of the playful activities the alaga asked the parents to do. The family didn鈥檛 seem surprised, so I assumed he was always like that.

Then, without warning, he stood up, collected the microphone and blasted the alaga in front of everyone. He said if they didn鈥檛 wrap up the engagement in 30 minutes, he would leave the venue. Everywhere went silent. People started murmuring because nobody expected it. The bride burst into tears while other family members tried to calm her down. Her dad didn鈥檛 seem bothered in the slightest. He just sat back down as if nothing had happened.

鈥淕uests refused to touch the food鈥� 鈥� Derin*, Food vendor

The reception was going perfectly until people suddenly started screaming from one corner of the hall.

A guest was throwing up and looked like he was choking shortly after eating the seafood boil we served. Honestly, it looked like one of those Nollywood poisoning scenes. Everyone panicked as he was rushed to the hospital. 

After he left, guests started refusing their meals, believing the food had been poisoned. It was most likely an allergic reaction, but nobody wanted to take chances. The bride鈥檚 mum eventually climbed the stage, assured everyone the food was safe, and even tasted it herself to calm people down. It was so awkward. Despite her efforts, almost every table still had plates of food left untouched by the end of the reception.

鈥淭he bride had some weird older friends鈥� 鈥� Jaiye*, Alaga

This wedding felt strange the moment I stepped into the hall. I can鈥檛 fully explain it, but I felt a weird presence around me. Throughout the programme, I struggled to focus because it felt like I was seeing things.

Then, the bride quietly came over and whispered that I should acknowledge a particular table of women. She even wrote down their or铆k矛 and insisted I hailed them exactly as she鈥檇 written. That鈥檚 when I realised she wasn鈥檛 an ordinary person. The moment I finished acknowledging them, I felt normal. Those women also refused to let anyone sit with them or even come near their table. I鈥檝e anchored countless weddings, but I鈥檝e never forgotten that one.

鈥淭he bride and groom鈥檚 ex got into a fight鈥� 鈥� Toye*, Content creator

Apparently, the groom had invited his ex, but she only showed up at the after party. From where I stood, it looked like she greeted the groom with a hug, and somehow the bride saw it.

The next thing I heard was screaming. Before anyone knew what was happening, the bride and the ex were dragging each other, pulling wigs and exchanging insults. It was complete chaos. Guests quickly rushed in to separate them and eventually escorted the ex out. Thankfully, it happened during the after-party when the music was loud and the lights were dim, so many guests didn鈥檛 even realise what had happened.

鈥淭he bride got slapped for smoking鈥� 鈥� Ben*, Drinks vendor

I was backstage with the couple while they waited for the next part of the programme. They were smoking weed and just relaxing. Out of nowhere, the bride鈥檚 dad walked in.

The man is a reverend. The couple tried to hide, but it was already too late. He saw everything and completely lost it. He started shouting, asking what kind of disgrace he was witnessing on his daughter鈥檚 wedding day. Then he called the groom鈥檚 parents, his wife and a few close relatives into the dressing room. Before everyone else came in, he slapped the bride across the face. Once the family gathered, they asked everyone else to step outside, so I never found out what was discussed.

*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.

In this week’s Marriage Diaries, she shares how rushing into marriage because she wanted to be a wife before 30 changed the course of her life, why staying for the children cost her parts of herself, and why she no longer believes love is enough to sustain a marriage.

I thought marriage would give me the safe love I grew up watching

I always imagined marriage would be beautiful. To me, it meant finally having a companion. Someone I’d do life with. Someone I’d tell everything to without hiding anything. I imagined my husband and I becoming one person in the way the Bible describes it. No secrets or pretending, just two people moving through life as one.

But that picture of marriage didn’t come from the church alone. I grew up watching my parents love each other well. They have a good marriage. They’re open with each other, affectionate and never ashamed to show that they love themselves. Looking at them, it felt natural to believe my own marriage would look the same.聽

Instead, it’s been almost the complete opposite. I don’t even call him my husband anymore. He’s simply my partner. 

For almost five years, I’ve carried the emotional weight of this marriage. Whenever we fought, I was the one apologising, even when I wasn’t at fault. I never liked keeping malice or proving who was right. I believed that if one person chose peace, the marriage would survive. But he got used to me always bending first.

Looking back, I think that was the beginning of everything. Slowly, the marriage became emotionally exhausting. Then it became verbally abusive. Eventually, it became physically abusive, too. Nothing about it resembles the marriage I once dreamed of.

I rushed into marriage because I was desperate to become a wife

If I could point to where everything went wrong, I’d say it started long before the wedding. I was 28 and had quietly placed myself under pressure to get married before turning 30. For reasons I can鈥檛 even place my hands on, I didn’t want to cross that age still unmarried.

I met my partner at a secondary school reunion party on the beach in September 2020. We’d spoken before, but that was the first time we met physically. He was charming at first. Everything about him matched the picture I’d built in my head. He spoke well and seemed caring. He claimed to own properties and have a comfortable income. His mother was a doctor and his father was a pastor. I looked at all those things and convinced myself I’d found a good man.

That same day, we had sex and I got pregnant almost immediately. Once the pregnancy happened, marriage felt like the obvious next step. And he was just as excited about the idea of spending the rest of our lives together. Before I knew it, we had our introduction in December. By March 2021, we were married. That’s how quickly everything happened.

The truth is, I didn’t know the man I was marrying. The caring, attentive person I met disappeared almost immediately after the wedding. I later realised many of the things he’d told me during courtship weren’t true. The financial stability, the properties, the image he sold me, much of it was fabricated.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t been so determined to become someone’s wife.

I didn’t know how difficult it was to leave a marriage

One thing marriage has taught me is that leaving isn’t as easy as people think. When you’re dating, walking away feels more straightforward. The stakes are lower. But marriage is different. Once children are involved, every decision becomes heavier.

People often say, “If you’re unhappy, just leave.” But where do you leave to? What happens to the children? What happens to the years you’ve already invested? What happens to the life you’ve built together?

Those questions can keep you in a marriage for longer than you truly desire. That’s probably been the biggest surprise for me. Before I got married, I genuinely believed that if a marriage became unbearable, you’d simply walk away. Now I know it’s rarely that simple.

Keeping quiet for peace slowly turned me into someone I didn’t recognise

My husband is a narcissist, and nothing prepared me for how to navigate marriage with someone like him. People prepare you for difficult in-laws or financial struggles. Nobody tells you what it feels like to live with someone who constantly makes you question yourself.

Very early in the marriage, I realised arguing achieved nothing. If he said black was white, you either agreed or prepared for another fight.

I remember one morning when we were heading to church and flagged down an okada. The rider mentioned a fare I felt was too expensive, so I tried to negotiate. Before I could finish speaking, my partner turned to me and shouted, “Is it your money? Who asked you to negotiate?”

I was shocked. Here I was thinking about managing his resources, but he embarrassed me over something so ordinary. Moments like that became normal in our marriage. I stopped expressing my opinions. I kept quiet because silence felt safer than another argument. But silence has a cost. All the anger I swallowed kept piling up until one day I couldn’t hold it anymore.聽

I started shouting back and became extremely confrontational. I started responding to violence with violence because I genuinely felt I needed to defend myself. There were times we physically fought in front of our children. When I think about those moments today, I honestly scare myself. That wasn’t who I was before this marriage, but I had to defend myself. I had to.

Marriage made me lose parts of myself before I started finding them again

This marriage has changed me in ways I never expected. For a long time, I lived depressed, emotionally drained and constantly trying to manage someone else’s emotions while abandoning my own. Choosing peace came at the expense of my mental health.

Eventually, but as I mentioned earlier, it got to a point where I needed to defend myself from a narcissist who had taken my complete silence and patience for granted. I started choosing myself.

That sounds empowering, but I鈥檒l be honest, it wasn’t beautiful at first. Choosing myself came with years of bottled-up anger. I became louder. More defensive. Wild.

Sometimes I still carry that anger. But at least now I’m no longer pretending that everything is fine. I’m slowly finding my way back to myself, even though I know there’s still healing left to do.

I鈥檝e stayed for my children, but I know I can’t stay forever

The hardest compromise I’ve made is remaining in this marriage because of our children. There came a point where I told him I wanted to leave. I even asked him what exactly was left for me to hold on to, and he quite frankly admitted there wasn’t anything.

Outside the abuse, there has also been repeated infidelity. I’ve caught him naked with other women in our matrimonial home. I’ve gone to another woman’s house and found him there. In five years of marriage, I’ve discovered affairs with at least six different women. Those are only the ones I know about.

At some point, his cheating became so reckless that I contracted infections. There are moments when I look at my life and wonder how I got here.

For a long time, I convinced myself that staying was the sacrifice I had to make for my children. But I’ve reached the point where I know staying isn’t helping anyone. One day, these children will become adults and live their own lives. If I remain here until then, I fear there’ll be nothing left of me.

So yes, I’m preparing to leave. Not because I don’t care about my family, but because I finally understand that choosing myself isn’t selfish. It’s necessary.

Love isn’t enough, kindness is

If I could speak to the younger version of myself, I’d tell her one thing. Don’t rush into marriage because of age. Being somebody’s wife isn’t an achievement if you end up sacrificing your peace to get there. Take your time to really know the person you’re marrying. Don’t mistake chemistry or urgency for compatibility.

Because in the long run, you鈥檒l find out that the butterflies won鈥檛 always flutter in your tummy. You鈥檇 find out that love isn鈥檛 easily reachable; you need effort to reach and nurture it. You鈥檒l find out that just saying 鈥淚 love you鈥� isn鈥檛 enough to take you through life鈥檚 uncertainties.

You need kindness, mutual respect and safety. Love without those things eventually becomes another word people use to justify suffering. I’ve loved deeply in this marriage. I just wish I’d been loved the same way in return.

 *Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.

Got a marriage story to share? Please聽聽and we鈥檒l reach out.

On this week鈥檚 Love Life, they talk about falling in love after just two meetings, taking the 鈥榰npopular鈥� decision to move in together less than three months later, and how Sarah鈥檚 fear of depending on a man almost destroyed the healthiest relationship she鈥檇 ever known.

If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this聽.

What鈥檚 your earliest memory of each other?

Sarah: November 2025. A mutual friend matched us after I shared on WhatsApp that my mum was pressuring me to get married. She reached out and said, 鈥淚 actually know someone if you鈥檙e serious. He鈥檚 a lawyer and a really nice guy.鈥�

I told her I was interested, as long as he wasn鈥檛 a player, and she assured me he wasn鈥檛. When Demola texted me, the first thing I noticed was his profile picture. It was a line from a poem. I鈥檓 a poet, and I immediately became curious. I actually thought he was trying to impress me, so instead of replying to his greeting, I asked about the poem.

Demola: It was a quote from Interstellar: 鈥淒o not go gentle into that good night鈥︹�� I鈥檇 had it on my profile picture for years because it means a lot to me.

Sarah: He talked about the poem, and I realised he wasn鈥檛 trying to impress me at all. The backstory was fascinating, which impressed me.

Demola: But yes, my earliest memory also starts with our mutual friend. At that point, I was laser-focused on myself. Then, out of nowhere, our friend tells me she knows someone I鈥檇 like. I kept saying I didn鈥檛 want wahala because I was perfectly happy being single. But she convinced me to send Sarah a message and even shared her Instagram.

I did a little stalking first. She looked exactly like my type. I liked her job and how she carried herself in her videos. I kept trying to convince myself not to text, but before I knew it, I鈥檇 landed in her DMs and was explaining my profile picture.

Screaming. So how did things progress from there?

Sarah: We kept talking because I found him interesting. I was in the middle of organising my first book launch, so I wasn鈥檛 always available. But whenever we spoke properly, we鈥檇 spend hours talking about our work, values, faith, and the lives we wanted.

One thing that stood out was how emotionally open he was. He sent these ridiculously long voice notes and never avoided difficult conversations. Even when I鈥檇 disappear for days, he鈥檇 simply check in without making me feel guilty.

Demola: I鈥檒l say we both knew what it was from the jump. By the second day, we鈥檇 already agreed we weren鈥檛 interested in wasting each other鈥檚 time. I came in with very strong, 鈥淚鈥檓 here to woo you鈥� energy, and that honesty helped us move quickly.

Sarah: Somewhere in the middle of all that, I invited him to my book launch and asked him to bring cake.

How did that first physical meeting go?

Sarah: First of all, he showed up carrying two cakes. I always joke that the moment I saw him struggling through the door with both cakes, I thought, 鈥淎h. I don catch am.鈥� It was incredibly sweet.

Demola: She barely had time for me because she was running the event, but I knew I had to be there. She was leaving for Nigeria almost immediately, and I felt that if we didn鈥檛 meet before she travelled, we鈥檇 lose whatever momentum we鈥檇 built. 

Sarah already had this 鈥淚 enjoy my own company鈥� energy. She sometimes took forever to reply to messages. Imagine adding another continent to the equation.

Sarah: Even though I remember the cake moment, I don鈥檛 think the first meeting at my book launch registered. I was super busy and nervous, and we barely had time to talk. 

The meeting that really mattered happened the next day.

Tell me about this second meeting.

Sarah: It was at Heathrow Airport the day after my book launch. I was flying back to Nigeria and planned to stay for about three months. Demola didn鈥檛 want me to leave without seeing me again, so he waited for me at the airport.

It was such a hectic day. I spent almost four hours travelling from the West Midlands to London with two huge suitcases and was already irritated by all the travel-day wahala. We kept texting, and I kept asking him to go home because I wouldn鈥檛 get to the airport until 7 p.m. My flight wasn鈥檛 until 10 p.m., but I felt he鈥檇 be waiting for nothing. When I finally arrived, we grabbed coffee and talked for about an hour before I boarded my flight.

What did you guys talk about?

Sarah: We just went on reestablishing things we already knew about each other. I told him about writing and publishing my book, what I planned to do in Nigeria, and he told me about work and his December plans. I just really enjoyed talking to him. I laughed a lot, and a lot. I suddenly didn鈥檛 want to catch my flight. 

Demola: I think she really fell for me at the airport.

Was this why you insisted on meeting again before she travelled?

Demola: In a way, yes. As I mentioned earlier, even from just texting, I had a strong feeling that Sarah was my person. I knew the potential for something beautiful was there. Meeting her at the book launch confirmed it. But I also knew that if she flew to Nigeria without us spending proper time together, we鈥檇 probably lose the momentum. I didn鈥檛 want that; I wanted her that much. And I was right, that second meeting changed everything.

Neat. What happened once you got to Nigeria, Sarah?

Sarah: The wooing became intense. Two days after I arrived, he sent me flowers. A week later, he sent me cake, and it wasn鈥檛 even my birthday. We talked from morning till night. Everywhere I went, my face was buried in my phone. Everyone around me asked what kind of lawyer had this much free time.

The more we talked, the deeper things became. We still hadn鈥檛 put a label, but I already loved how we saw the world. He didn鈥檛 have the typical 鈥渨omen should be submissive鈥� mindset. We agreed on religion, society, politics, and almost everything.

Demola: I鈥檇 say she became much more enthusiastic, too. Before long, we were already talking about love and what a future together could look like.

Sarah: I should note that at this point, I was talking to another guy who also lives in the UK.  He was in Nigeria for Detty December, and I had plans with him.

Wait, what?

Sarah: Yes. We鈥檇 made plans for him to show me around Lagos. But the closer the trip got, the more uneasy I felt. 

So I asked Demola. 

I said to him very frankly, 鈥淚 plan to go to Lagos for a week to spend time with this other guy that I鈥檓 talking to. Would you be okay with that?鈥�

Demola: I didn鈥檛 even know there was another guy until she mentioned it. Normally, I鈥檇 have said, 鈥淒o whatever you want.鈥� That鈥檚 usually how I am. But this time, I couldn鈥檛.

I told her not to go because I really liked her. I even promised that if she waited, I鈥檇 take her to Lagos myself the following year and we鈥檇 do everything she planned to do with the other guy.

Sarah: That was exactly what I needed to hear. If he had said I should do whatever, it would have ended things for me. I hate nonchalance. The funny thing is, I鈥檇 already decided I didn鈥檛 want to go. I just wanted to know if he cared enough to fight for me.

Demola: I think it was her way of asking me to show that I was serious.

Sweet. So when did you guys become official?

Sarah: We were already acting like a couple, but I wanted him to actually ask.

Demola: I ended up asking twice 鈥� first over a conversation that ended up in her asking when I would ask her. I wanted to do it in person, but Sarah wasn鈥檛 having it, so I asked anyway.

Then later, after she鈥檇 returned to the UK, I cooked dinner and attempted to write 鈥淏e my girlfriend鈥� on a plate with chocolate syrup. It looked terrible.

Sarah: I didn鈥檛 think it was pathetic at all. I actually loved it. My Instagram followers thought it was sweet. We became official in December 2025.

Awesome. What were the early days of the relationship like?

Sarah: Things moved very quickly. I鈥檇 originally planned to stay in Nigeria for three months because I鈥檇 sublet my UK apartment. But the more we talked, the more we started discussing my returning earlier. When I mentioned I wouldn鈥檛 have anywhere to stay, he simply suggested that I move in with him.

It sounded completely crazy. We鈥檇 only met twice and had known each other for less than two months. Still, something about him made me feel safe enough to take the leap. Against all good advice from family and friends, I bit the bullet and returned to the UK.

Demola: We both knew moving in together so early was unusual, but there was a lot of reassurance on both sides. I told her if living together didn鈥檛 work out, I鈥檇 still make sure she was okay. But it was still a massive leap of faith for her. Anyone can make promises. Whether they keep them is another matter.

Sarah: Those first weeks of living together were really difficult; definitely not what we both bargained for. The 鈥榟oneymoon鈥� phase disappeared almost immediately.

I was living with a man I barely knew while dealing with visa issues that meant I couldn鈥檛 work. He knew this though; it was part of why I鈥檇 returned to Nigeria, to catch a break from UK wahala. I was moody all the time. I became withdrawn. We鈥檇 also agreed not to have sex until we were both completely sure, so that wasn鈥檛 part of the relationship either. Then my friends started getting into my head.

What were they saying?

Sarah: It was the usual. I was trusting a man I didn鈥檛 know. The UK is dangerous, and I had no family here. It was risky to put my life in someone else鈥檚 hands. That he鈥檇 eventually throw me out because we weren鈥檛 sleeping together, and I鈥檇 end up stranded and regret leaving Nigeria early.

Meanwhile, Demola was doing everything he could to make me comfortable. I couldn鈥檛 cook. I hated house chores. He knew all of that before I moved in, but I still felt guilty watching him cook, clean and take care of me while I lay around feeling miserable. It was like all the love I鈥檇 felt disappeared beneath layers of fear. I became angry all the time. I鈥檇 shout at him. Whenever we鈥檇 argue, I鈥檇 threaten to leave even though I had nowhere else to go.

At one point, he even offered to buy me a ticket back to Nigeria or move into a friend鈥檚 apartment so I could keep staying in his place until I got mine back.

What was this period like for you, Demola? 

Demola: Oh, those days were rough. The excitement died down really quickly. I鈥檇 imagined welcoming the woman I loved into my life. Instead, it felt like I was living with someone completely different from the person I鈥檇 spent weeks talking to.

We barely had any real conversation. Still, I knew she was struggling, so I focused on making sure she was okay.

I kept reminding her that her work situation wasn鈥檛 a problem. Not cooking or doing the house chores wasn鈥檛 a problem. None of those things mattered to me. But she still carried herself like she was a burden. She was always quiet and passive, almost as if she felt stranded in my house. 

Even my lifelines didn鈥檛 help. I offered to send her back to Nigeria, to leave my apartment for her until she got hers. Nothing worked. Eventually, I started wondering whether she鈥檇 arrived and realised I wasn鈥檛 the person she鈥檇 imagined.

Sarah: I should mention that I鈥檇 also never lived with a man before, so I was caught between feeling guilty for depending on him and angry that I鈥檇 left Nigeria earlier than I wanted. It was a very confusing time for me. I knew I wanted to be with him, but I didn鈥檛 know how.

But did you share these worries with Demola?

Sarah: I did. He was very reassuring. He told me over and over that I wasn鈥檛 a burden. He spoiled me with gifts. He was eager to make me comfortable. If I so much as smiled at something, he got it for me. We slowly filled the apartment with my things until it started feeling like home. He never stopped looking for solutions. The problem was that none of those things fixed what was happening inside me. I鈥檇 be happy one minute, then sink back into sadness the next. Eventually, it affected him too. He started walking on eggshells around me.

Was this why you suggested moving out, Demola?

Demola: Not at all. I just wanted her to be fine. They were safety nets I鈥檇 promised in case she arrived, and things were different, and I wanted her to know they still stood.

So how long did this phase last?

Sarah: Almost two months, and winter definitely didn鈥檛 help. But somewhere in all of that, I realised I didn鈥檛 actually want to leave. Even in those dark times, we still had some good moments. Those moments reinforced why I loved this person and wanted to be with him. I鈥檇 never met anyone like him before. He genuinely took care of me. We both wanted the same future. Neither of us wanted children. We both hated the patriarchy. He loved that I was creative, and I loved that he was a lawyer. He cooked and didn鈥檛 mind that I didn鈥檛. He was also very reassuring. It was literally my dream man right in front of me. I was determined to fight for us till the end. It was really difficult, but I started to come around. 

What changed?

Sarah: I finally recognised my subconscious bias was keeping me in that state. A part of me couldn鈥檛 believe I deserved something this good, so I kept waiting for it to be snatched from me. In the end, things started to work out on their own when I began to trust our relationship more. Trust that it was ours, and no matter if it felt too good to be true, I was here now, and I had what I wanted. 

Looking back, Demola, what convinced you to keep holding on?

Demola: As she said, we had our good days in between. She鈥檇 tell me how much she loved me and how she still wanted us to work. I also made more of an effort to step into her world. We used to joke about having completely different interests, but I started embracing the things she loved. It brought us closer.

Sarah: I always told him exactly what was happening in my head, even when I didn鈥檛 understand it myself. I just kept asking him to be patient with me.

Demola: I think we鈥檝e come a long way, and our love is stronger than ever, really. Those first few months taught me silence. I鈥檇 always wanted to tell Sarah everything. Back then, I learnt to hold back because it wasn鈥檛 the time. Now we鈥檙e in a much healthier place, and I鈥檓 actually having to unlearn that silence because she wants to share everything with me. I wouldn鈥檛 trade that for anything.

Fair enough. What鈥檚 the best thing about being with each other?

Demola: Sarah has made me love life more. That鈥檚 the simplest way to say it. I notice things I would have walked past before I met her. My inner child is more alive than it has been in a long time. She has a perspective on the world that I鈥檇 genuinely never encountered before, and it has expanded how I think about everything. Being around someone that sharp and original in how they see things makes you want to be a better version of yourself 鈥� if only to just to keep up. I am more intentional about what matters to me than I have ever been in my life.

Sarah: Before Demola, I had a lot of fear around men in general. I鈥檓 a feminist. I smoke. I have very questionable shopping habits. These are things the average Nigerian man treats as reasons to withhold love or make you feel like you don鈥檛 deserve good things. In previous relationships, I felt the pressure to hide parts of myself for fear of being judged very harshly for being who I am. 

With Demola, I show up completely as myself. I don鈥檛 have to perform anything. My nervous system is calm in a way it has never been. We are together almost all the time, or he is at work, and I have no anxiety about what he is doing. I have never had that with anyone. When my friends try to worry me, I just tell them that my gut being this relaxed is how I know I made the right choice.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your love life?

Demola: 10. We are both committed to being better for each other, and we genuinely just want to see each other happy. She is the most beautiful, most intelligent woman I could ask for.

Sarah: 8. We鈥檙e in a good place. The minus two is for the fracture that those early months created, which still shows up sometimes when we quarrel or fight. But we both recognise the problem, and we鈥檙e working through it together. We鈥檙e a very good team

 *Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.

If you鈥檝e enjoyed reading Love Life, our flagship series on love, heartbreak, and relationships, we have exciting news. We鈥檝e partnered with Cassava Republic to publish a book based on the flagship. Coming January 2026, it鈥檚 about to be your favourite book.

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This is Ibrahim鈥檚 explanation, as shared with Adeyinka

People think I hate dogs, but I don鈥檛. What I hate is irresponsible dog owners who expect everyone else to live with the consequences of their decisions.

Earlier this year, I moved out of a house I genuinely loved because of a dog. I鈥檇 lived there for years without any major issues. My landlord had a dog that roamed the compound, but it was always friendly. It wagged its tail whenever it saw me, so I never imagined it鈥檇 attack me one day.

One weekend, I got home very late and discovered the gate was locked. I called a few neighbours, but nobody answered. After standing outside for a while, I decided to scale the fence. The moment I landed inside the compound, the dog charged at me.

It happened so fast. The same dog I鈥檇 played with almost every day suddenly became vicious. It bit my hand so badly that they had to stitch my thumb. I couldn鈥檛 work for almost a week because of the injury. The physical pain eventually went away, but the fear stayed with me.

That attack, combined with a few other issues I鈥檇 already been having in the house, became my final straw. I decided to move out.

When I started house hunting, I became particular about one thing: no dogs. The place I eventually rented was perfect. It had just four tenants, and during the inspection, I noticed that no one kept dogs. I even asked about it because I didn鈥檛 want any surprises.聽The lawyer handling the property also assured me that dogs weren鈥檛 allowed in the compound, and that was all I needed to hear.

For the first four months, everything was peaceful. Then one of my neighbours brought home a dog. I still remember the day I found out.

I returned from work, opened the gate and stepped into the compound. Out of nowhere, the dog barked so aggressively that I froze. It wasn鈥檛 even close to me, but my heart started racing, and all I could think about was the dog that attacked me in my previous apartment. I was furious.

I immediately confronted my neighbour and reminded him that dogs weren鈥檛 allowed. He looked surprised and told me nobody had informed him about any such rule.

That same night, I called the lawyer. He apologised and promised he鈥檇 resolve it. A week passed, then another and then a month, nothing happened. Instead, my neighbour became even more comfortable leaving the dog unchained around the compound. Anytime I complained, he鈥檇 laugh it off and say it was a domestic dog that couldn鈥檛 hurt anybody.

I鈥檝e realised that鈥檚 something many dog owners say.聽 鈥淚t鈥檚 friendly, it doesn鈥檛 bite. It just wants to play,鈥� until the day it bites someone.

One afternoon, I was outside hanging clothes when the dog suddenly walked towards me. It wasn鈥檛 attacking me, but it barked loudly. I completely broke down. I had a full-blown panic attack because, in my head, I was back in my former compound watching a dog charge at me all over again. That鈥檚 when I realised I wasn鈥檛 just uncomfortable around dogs anymore. I was traumatised.

For days afterwards, I kept imagining worst-case scenarios. What if it slipped out while I was coming home? What if it attacked me the same way the first one did?

Two other neighbours also had issues with the dog, but they didn’t do anything about it. I鈥檇 told them to call the lawyer as well, but for reasons unclear to me, they were hesitant.聽 So I decided to do something myself. The following week, I poisoned the dog.

It wasn鈥檛 an impulsive decision. I鈥檇 spent weeks feeling trapped inside my own home. I couldn鈥檛 relax. Every bark made me anxious. Every trip outside my flat felt like I was preparing for another attack.

Poisoning the dog wasn鈥檛 something I enjoyed doing. It was one of the hardest decisions I鈥檝e ever made. But I also couldn鈥檛 imagine packing my bags and moving house again because another dog owner refused to be responsible. My neighbour threw a tantrum and kept cursing, but he never confronted me. 

People might judge me for what I did, and maybe they鈥檙e right. Still, I think the bigger problem is how casually some people treat dogs around others. Not everyone likes dogs or feels safe around them. And if someone tells you they鈥檙e afraid, the answer shouldn鈥檛 be to insist your dog is harmless. You should go the length to make sure your pet never becomes another person鈥檚 problem.

I鈥檝e lost a thumb. I know another family member whose toddler was attacked by their own dog. I can never regret choosing my safety and peace. I鈥檒l do it again if he moves mad and brings another unhinged pet into the house.

ALSO READ: I Got a Dog to Grieve My Uncle. He Ended Up Saving My Life聽

This is Rasheedat鈥檚 story, as told to Adeyinka

I still remember the day we finally got a diagnosis for my daughter.

For years, I knew something was different about Faizat, but I couldn鈥檛 explain what. She never crawled as a baby. She didn鈥檛 start walking until after she turned three, and she hardly spoke. She cried a lot, often over things I couldn鈥檛 understand. As her mother, it broke my heart because all I wanted was to comfort her, but I never knew what she was trying to tell me.

At the time, I鈥檇 never even heard the word 鈥渁utism.鈥�

Like many parents, I believed she was simply developing late and would eventually catch up. We weren鈥檛 aware of any history of autism in our family, so it never crossed my mind that this could be something different.

Instead of seeking medical help immediately, we tried everything we knew.

We visited spiritual homes because people believed she needed prayers. We gave her different herbal concoctions because everyone seemed to know someone with a remedy. We weren鈥檛 trying to avoid medical care. We simply didn鈥檛 know what autism was, and we were desperate to help our daughter.

It was our neighbours who eventually suggested taking her to a psychiatric hospital. Back then, that idea terrified us. We believed psychiatric hospitals were only for people with severe mental illness. My husband rejected it immediately. He said, 鈥淢y daughter is not mad.鈥�

Looking back now, I understand why he reacted that way. It came from fear and ignorance, not from a lack of love for his daughter. Eventually, we agreed to go.

Faizat was diagnosed with autism when she was 11 years old. Hearing those words brought both relief and heartbreak. For the first time in years, I finally understood why my daughter had struggled the way she did. I realised her behaviours weren鈥檛 because she was stubborn or because I had failed as a mother.

But at the same time, my mind immediately jumped to the future. Would she ever speak fluently? Would she make friends? Go to school? Live independently? Would society accept her?

The doctors prescribed medication to help with her aggression and tantrums. They also explained that therapy would be an important part of helping her communicate and become more independent. Then life happened again. 

Not long after Faizat鈥檚 diagnosis, my husband died. Almost overnight, I became a widow raising three children, including a daughter who needed more support than I could afford to give. I was grieving my husband while trying to understand autism at the same time. The medications, therapy sessions and specialist care the doctors recommended were expensive, and I simply didn鈥檛 have the money. Those were some of the loneliest years of my life.

Even so, giving up was never an option. As the years passed, I learned that one of the hardest parts of raising an autistic child wasn鈥檛 only autism itself. It was how people treated us.

One day, Faizat and I boarded a public bus. She made one of her loud vocal sounds and some passengers became uncomfortable. They complained until the conductor stopped the bus and asked both of us to get down. I can鈥檛 fully describe how humiliating that felt.

On another occasion, I booked an Uber. The driver arrived, looked at us, refused to unlock the doors and drove away without saying a word. Those moments stay with you. You aren鈥檛 just caring for your child. You鈥檙e constantly explaining, defending and proving that your child deserves to exist in the same spaces as everyone else.

Housing also became difficult. Because I couldn鈥檛 always afford the therapy and medication she needed, Faizat sometimes had intense meltdowns. Neighbours complained, landlords became uncomfortable, and we had to move from one house to another. People assumed she was possessed or cursed. Some believed I was being punished. Others thought I was simply a bad parent.

Over time, I realised most of those reactions came from ignorance rather than cruelty. But ignorance can still be incredibly painful. They see a child having a meltdown in public, but they don鈥檛 see the sleepless nights beforehand. They don鈥檛 see the constant supervision, the exhaustion or the fear that never really goes away.

Even after 26 years, I still worry about Faizat鈥檚 future. I think about her health, her safety and one question that never leaves my mind: who will care for her when I鈥檓 no longer here? At the same time, raising her has completely changed the way I understand love.

Before Faizat, I thought love was simply caring for someone. She taught me that love is showing up every day, even when you鈥檙e tired, discouraged or uncertain about tomorrow.

She also changed the way I think about communication. For many years, she couldn鈥檛 speak fluently, and I spent so much time wishing she would tell me what she was thinking. Then one day, I realised she had been communicating with me all along.

She communicated through her facial expressions, gestures, routines, and the way she responded to different situations. I鈥檇 been so focused on what she couldn鈥檛 say that I almost missed everything she was already telling me.

That lesson changed not only how I saw autism, but how I saw people. Being non-verbal doesn鈥檛 mean having nothing to say.

For a long time, I kept our journey private because I was simply trying to survive each day. But as I met more parents raising autistic children, I realised so many of us were carrying the same burdens in silence. That鈥檚 why I started sharing our story.

I wanted other parents to know they weren鈥檛 alone. I wanted families to recognise the signs earlier than I did and seek professional help without fear or shame, and the response has been overwhelming.

Parents have reached out to tell me they finally sought an assessment for their own children after watching our videos. Others have said our story gave them hope during their darkest moments. Strangers have donated towards therapy, medications and Faizat鈥檚 care.

Of course, not everyone has been kind. There have been insensitive comments and people who questioned my parenting. But instead of allowing those moments to discourage me, they鈥檝e strengthened my resolve. Today, I run the Faizat Hope Foundation for Autism and Special Needs because I don鈥檛 want other families to walk this journey alone.

If there鈥檚 one thing I want Nigerians to understand, it鈥檚 that autism isn鈥檛 a curse or the result of bad parenting. Families like mine don鈥檛 need pity. We need understanding, acceptance and support.

Looking back, I would tell my younger self not to waste years searching for a cure. I would tell her to spend that time understanding her daughter instead. I would tell her that although she would lose her husband and carry this responsibility alone, she would also discover a strength she never knew she had.

Most importantly, I would tell her to keep believing in her daughter. Because even though autism changed our lives forever, Faizat also gave my life a purpose I never expected. She didn鈥檛 just make me a mother. She made me an advocate for families who deserve to be seen, heard and accepted.

ALSO READ: Mothers Share the Reality of Raising Children With Disabilities

On this week’s Love Life, they talk about the dinner date that forced him to make a move, and a hot air balloon proposal 100 feet in the air that she almost ruined by finding the ring first.

If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this聽.

What’s your earliest memory of each other?

Adeoye: It was May 2021, and the one memory I held onto was when I saw her fleet. She had posted one from Landmark Beach, and she looked really good. I reacted to it and told her she was pretty. She said thank you, and the conversation ended there, but I couldn鈥檛 get her off my mind. 

Before this interaction, I鈥檇 seen some of her tweets on the timeline and always thought she was really relatable. 

I texted again a couple of days later, properly this time. We鈥檝e spoken every single day since.

Adebola: My earliest memory of Adeoye is from when I was 13. My best friend in church was his secondary school classmate, and she used to come to church every Sunday with gist about her classmates. So I knew of him from a considerable distance. Then, somehow, we both ended up at UNILAG. I saw him around a few times, but we barely had any interaction. I even followed him on Instagram, but he didn鈥檛 follow back.

Adeoye: It鈥檚 interesting she mentioned seeing me in UNILAG. She was there the whole time, and I had no idea.

Adebola: Anyway, when he reacted to my Twitter fleet in 2021, I already had an idea of who he was. He didn鈥檛 know that, though.

Curious though, did you like him from the jump? Was that why you also followed him on IG? 

Adebola: In a way, yes. I鈥檇 just come out of a really toxic relationship the previous year, and I鈥檇 made up my mind to take a long break from dating. I was talking to a few people casually, but nothing was going anywhere. Then Adeoye texted, he seemed different from the very first conversation. He was easy to talk to. I thought,聽 鈥淥kay, this might be something.鈥�

But I wasn鈥檛 about to rush into anything.

Adeoye: For me, I shot my shot from day one. I didn鈥檛 come and say I just wanted to be friends and then slowly worked my way up to admitting I liked her. I told her she was really pretty from the first proper conversation. But I also had context for why I wasn鈥檛 just looking for another talking stage. 

Earlier that year, I鈥檇 been with someone who had a long-term boyfriend, and I was essentially the side piece. When I left that situation, one of the things I literally prayed for was my own person. Someone I didn鈥檛 have to share with anyone. So when I met Adebola, I already knew what I was looking for, and she felt like the answer to that prayer from very early.

Nice. So how did things move after that first Twitter conversation?

Adeoye: Within the same week, I invited her to my birthday party at my aunt’s place.  When she walked in and sat down in the middle of everyone, she was on a completely different level. She looked prettier than everyone else. Adebola was just a different breed.

Adebola: Honestly, I had absolutely no idea any of this was going on in his head. I thought I was just going to a birthday party with a new friend. But he clearly had a mission.

Adeoye: A few days after the party, I asked her out on a proper date. We went to Papiee鈥檚 Meastro in Yaba on the 29th of May. That was when the conversation moved from surface level to something real. I asked about her family, her background, who she is, what she wants and all of that. I was genuinely trying to find out if she was who I thought she was. The date confirmed it.

Adebola: From the very beginning, he was clear that he liked me. He wasn’t playing the friendship game or being ambiguous. He shot his shot immediately, and I appreciated that because it meant I knew where I stood.

So what happened next? Did you guys make things official?

Adeoye: After our date,  things just kept escalating naturally. We were speaking every day. Our conversations got deeper and deeper. I remember thinking at some point, 鈥漁kay, this is definitely more than just casual interest.鈥� I was spending all my time thinking about her, looking forward to our conversations, and making time for her in my schedule no matter what. She was still in school, and I was doing NYSC while working a side job to survive. Quietly, I was also clearing out. I鈥檇 been talking to other people when we first started, but I began cutting them off one by one because even without a label between us, I already knew where I wanted to put my energy. 

Adebola: For me, it was gradual, too. The daily conversations, the way he was consistent, the way he made me feel safe to be vulnerable 鈥� all of that built up over time. I went from thinking he was just some guy who liked me to realising I actually wanted to build something with him. Once I realised that, I was all in. 

Adeoye: Then I found out she had gone on a date, and everything moved faster.

Wait, what? How did you find that out?

Adeoye: She posted a picture of a space on her Instagram story. Something about it told me it was a restaurant. I’m a culture commentator, and investigative work is part of what I do. I dug around, confirmed it was a restaurant, and then she posted the food later. I knew immediately it was a dinner date. She hadn鈥檛 mentioned going anywhere that day, and at that point, we were sharing our day-to-day with each other. So I knew.

Adebola: For context, it was someone I had talked to before Adeoye. He had promised to take me out for my birthday in March but only followed through in June. So to me, it was a late birthday lunch with no romantic intent on my side. I didn鈥檛 think it needed an announcement.

Hmmm

Adeoye: I understood all of that later. But in the moment, seeing it was the push I needed. I wasn鈥檛 even upset. I thought, 鈥淥kay, this girl is smart. She isn鈥檛 going to sit around waiting for me to figure myself out.鈥�

 So I started plotting. I told my friends I was going to ask her to be my girlfriend. I booked Pondicheri, an Indian restaurant with a great upstairs spot. I deliberately picked the 1st of July because I鈥檓 terrible with dates, and I figured having it on the 1st would make it easy to remember.

Adebola: He says the 2nd, but it鈥檚 actually 1st. He鈥檚 still super bad with dates. Nothing has changed.

Adeoye: Anyway, she said yes. That鈥檚 all that matters.

If you insist. What were the early days of the relationship like?

Adeoye: Interesting times. My NYSC stipend was 鈧�33k, and my job was paying 鈧�60k, so I was living on roughly 鈧�80k a month. At the time, you could take someone on a proper date, even on the island, for about 鈧�40k. So we were going out once a month, seeing each other on weekends, and talking every day. It was a good period. We were also trying to get into each other’s worlds by watching each other’s shows. I watched three and a half seasons of Insecure just for her.

Adebola: I鈥檝e still not gotten past episode 10 of Demon Slayer. Like he says, the early days were beautiful. We were growing as friends and lovers, learning more about each other. But that period also came with navigating friction around some issues.聽

Oh. What issues?

Adeoye: She had a female friend I wasn鈥檛 comfortable with. It wasn鈥檛 like I had any problem with the lady herself; it was more the things she would do. She鈥檇 put Adebola’s head on her lap on Snapchat, kiss her on camera, post it and tag her. I think she felt like she was in some kind of competition with me. Adebola and I had started dating, and I think the friend felt that our relationship was pulling her away.

Adebola: In my head at the time, that was just how we鈥檇 always been as friends. We were best friends and very close, so when Adeoye started expressing his reservations, I got defensive. I felt like he was trying to control who I could spend time with. In hindsight, though, I could see it was getting weird, especially when she started posting throwbacks of those things years later, long after I had already told her he was not comfortable with it. That was when I understood it was intentional.

Adeoye: We fought about it a few times. She was defensive, and I was frustrated. But I never asked her to cut anyone off. I just needed her to see what I was seeing. Eventually, she saw it herself, and that friendship fizzled out on its own.

Adebola: The bigger thing for me in those early days was learning not to go on the defensive every time he raised an issue. Every relationship I鈥檇 been in before came with insults the moment there was any conflict. So when Adeoye would bring something to me calmly and just explain where he was coming from, I didn鈥檛 know how to receive it. I kept waiting for the blow-up. I kept thinking, okay, here it comes. But it never did. Once I realised that is actually just who he is, I started hearing what he was saying instead of preparing my counter-argument. And it helped us navigate our issues easily. But life was still lifing, we still had other real-life issues that got thrown our way.

What do you mean?

Adeoye: I mean, it was just the typical life getting harder before it got better. NYSC finished, I quit the job, and I went into music production full-time. That period was rough. I was going to artists’ camps for days at a stretch. Three days at one camp with nothing but alcohol and plantain chips. No real food. Guys promising payments and going quiet. I eventually took a full year off from the media space to figure out my next move. We weren鈥檛 going on dates for months because where was the money?

Adebola: I watched all of it up close. Even when the music was not working, even during the months when nothing was clicking, he never stopped pushing. Watching someone be that consistent made me want to do the same. Before I met him, I鈥檇 already been to culinary school in 2020, but I had no real sense of direction. I knew I wanted to cook, but I had no idea how to build something from it. He kept encouraging me and helping me think through how to approach it strategically. I went back to culinary school in 2022. After that, I got a job as a kitchen assistant, worked my way up to chef, then moved through restaurants. All of that happened inside this relationship, and he had a lot to do with why I actually went and did it.

Adeoye: While she was building all of that, things eventually started clicking for me too. I started making content on TikTok, found my lane as a culture commentator, and it grew from there. But through all the years when nothing was working, she never once made me feel small about it. She was always the loudest person in my corner.

Through these challenges, how were you convinced love was still in the room?

Adebola: Speaking of love, I actually said the word first. I remember we鈥檇 spent a really good day together, and I was on my way home when I texted him that I thought I loved him. This was about two weeks into the relationship.

Two weeks?

Adebola: I know. But that is just how I am. He, however, said he didn鈥檛 love me yet but could feel himself falling, and that he wanted to be sure before he said it. That hurt in the moment. But he was right.

Adeoye: I genuinely couldn鈥檛 say it and mean it at that point. Earlier that same year, I鈥檇 been saying those words to someone else, and it turned out to mean very little. I didn鈥檛 want to do that with Adebola. I needed to be sure I was saying it from a real place, not just because the moment felt good. I said it about three weeks into the relationship. 

But back to your question, it was very hard to doubt the love when we were both cheering so hard for each other, even when we could no longer go on fancy dates. We鈥檇 built something very genuine from the start of the relationship, and that really defined what the future of the relationship could look like. 

Adebola: Looking back, I appreciate that he didn鈥檛 just confess love to save the moment. It made me stop and ask myself whether I actually loved him or whether I just really liked him and was swept up in the newness of everything. It made the whole thing our foundation solid.

Neat. And at what point did you know you wanted to spend the rest of your lives with each other? 

Adeoye: My aunt planted the seed. She had family in the UK, and when she came back towards the end of 2024, she sat me down and asked when I was going to propose. In my head, I still felt like certain things needed to be in place before I could take that step. Financially, I was not where I wanted to be. But she helped me see that life doesn鈥檛 have to be perfect before you make that move. So by late December 2024, I鈥檇 made up my mind. I told my mum and my sister first, then a few more people slowly. I got the ring in October 2025.

October? Why was there such a long gap before the proposal?

Adeoye: I was broke. The magazine I was managing wasn鈥檛 paying what it should have been. I resigned in March last year and went through a dry spell while I was building my own thing. Money started coming in eventually. I took a loan from a family member, sorted the ring, and started planning for May, which is my birthday month.

Adebola: What he didn鈥檛 know was that I鈥檇 already found the ring in March. His sister had just moved out, and I went into the room to see what it looked like without her things. I opened her wardrobe and found a box. I opened it and saw a ring. I completely freaked out and ran to tell my friend. My friend immediately told him. So he went and hid it somewhere else. But I鈥檇 already seen it and had an idea he was about to pop the question.

Adeoye: She is extremely nosy. I cannot stress this enough. Planning a proposal while spending most of my time with this woman was the most stressful experience of my life. I couldn鈥檛 text anyone without her asking what I was laughing at. I had to coordinate everything through her friends because the moment I was on my phone for too long, she would start asking questions.

Screaming. So how did the actual proposal go?

Adeoye: I saw a post about a hot air balloon experience at Heineken on Instagram, and I just imagined how special it would be to ask her out thousands of feet in the air. I reached out, sorted everything out, and had it on lock. 

On the morning of the proposal, I woke her up at 5 a.m. I鈥檇 already made sure her nails and her hair had been done earlier that week. I bought a plain white t-shirt and plain jeans because I wanted her to be the one everyone noticed, not me. Her friends handled all the coordination with the venue, so I didn鈥檛 have to be on my phone around her. 

Adebola: I genuinely had no idea what was happening. Even after finding the ring two months earlier, I had convinced myself he was just trying to throw me off. He made me do a full face of makeup at five in the morning for what he said was a content job. I wasn鈥檛 happy about it. When we got to the venue, everyone was being unusually nice to me. The engineer on site was smiling at me, and I couldn鈥檛 work out why. They put a mic on Adeoye, and I assumed it was for content. Then we went up, we were a hundred feet in the air in this wobbling balloon, and he turned to me and said there was something he wanted to tell me.

Adeoye: I couldn鈥檛 kneel. We were in a balloon. It was wobbling. I just reached behind my back and brought out the ring.

Adebola: I was completely caught off guard, even though I鈥檇 seen the ring. All the preparation I thought I had done meant nothing in that moment. When we came back down, and I turned around and saw all my girlfriends walking towards me, I burst into tears. That was the part that got me the most. He had thought about everything.

Awwwn. Congratulations, guys. What’s the best thing about being with each other?

Adeoye: Life is just easier with her in it. All the hard years, the music camps with no real food, the months with no income, the stretch where we were not going on dates. I don鈥檛 know how I would have moved through any of that without Adebola genuinely rooting for me. 

Adebola: Being with Adeoye has made me more ambitious, more open, more generous, more myself. I can tell him literally anything that comes to mind, no matter how random, and he will sit with me and talk about it for hours. I have never had that before.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your love life?

Adeoye: You cannot put a number on something like this. But if you are forcing me to choose, it is a 10. There鈥檚 nothing I would change.

Adebola: 10. This is the best relationship I have ever been in, and I am genuinely excited about everything that comes next. The wedding, the marriage, all of it. No notes.

If you want to share your own Love Life story, fill out this聽.

If you鈥檝e enjoyed reading Love Life, our flagship series on love, heartbreak, and relationships, we have exciting news. We鈥檝e partnered with Cassava Republic to publish a book based on the flagship. Coming January 2026, it鈥檚 about to be your favourite book.

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If you鈥檙e searching for the best Lagos restaurants for wedding proposal moments that are both romantic and camera-ready, we鈥檝e rounded up the perfect places to help you pull it off. But please, gather your coins!

Fiora Gardens

Location: 9 Sasegbon Street, Ikeja, Lagos

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Dani by The Delborough

Location: House 1 Plot 1501 Itirin Court I, Off Bishop Aboyade Cole St, Eti-Osa, Lagos, Nigeria

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Vici Lagos

Location: 106A Anifowoshe Street, Lagos, Nigeria

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Rapa Nui Lagos

Location: 256 Etim Inyang Crescent, Victoria Island, Lagos, Nigeria

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Rora Lagos

Location: 20 ologun agbaje VI, Lagos, Nigeria

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Nostalgia

Location: 88 Hakeem Dickson Road, Lekki Phase 1, Lagos

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Kaly

Location: 1 Akin Adesola, NumberOne Building, Victoria Island, Lagos,

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Oceans5

Location: 20 Elsie Femi Pearse, Victoria Island, Lagos

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Restaurant

Location: 65a, Adeola Odeku Street, VI

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Slow

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Zayda

Location: 1, Chief Collins Uchidiuno street, Lekki phase1, Lagos

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Sora Lagos

Location: 15th Floor, Trinity Towers, Chief Yesufu Abiodun Oniru Rd., Lagos

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