How did you meet Tayo*?

Neema: We met online after a mutual friend, Derin*, posted my picture on my 20th birthday in 2016. Tayo* saw the picture, liked what he saw, and tracked down my Snapchat username. It was easy for him to find my handle since it was in my Instagram bio. He added me, sent a message on Snapchat, and that’s how everything took off. 

He was turning 19 that year, but I didn’t mind. As soon as we started talking, there was an immediate attraction between us, and we started talking to each other regularly.

So you guys started dating immediately?

Neema: No, we stayed close friends. At the time, Tayo was shuffling between Kwara and Lagos, while I was in the UK. He was easy to talk to, and we bonded over our mutual love for music since we were both musicians.

Later that year, I came to Nigeria for a holiday. During my one-month stay, we met in person and officially became a long-distance couple in August.

What happened next?

Neema: I went back to the UK to continue my studies, and in 2016, Tayo got a scholarship to a UK university and moved over too. But we were in different cities, so it was still a long-distance relationship. Despite that, we were best friends even though we were in a relationship. Still, our situation was a little complex.

What made it complex?

Neema: There was a sudden pressure to get married. Our church and families were very important fixtures in our lives, and we also worked as youth pastors. Before our relationship was two years old, they started asking questions about marriage. The pressure to walk down the aisle was overwhelming and honestly,  scary.

Why?

Neema: I had my reservations. We had a big argument at the end of our first year together and briefly broke up before getting back together. I felt like our relationship was still “soft”, but his family kept pushing for marriage.

I’m a British citizen, so their reasoning was, “Okay, you guys are going to end up together anyway,  so what’s the point in delaying this whole thing? You guys should get married so he doesn’t have to return to Nigeria.” 

It was a traumatising situation for me because I didn’t want to get married at 22. My mind wasn’t there at all, but I loved him and convinced myself I could help him avoid the stress of going back to Nigeria. I was uneasy about this, but I kept trying to justify it in my mind. 

Was your family pressuring you to marry him as well?

Neema: There was no pressure from my family. In fact, some of my relatives were against it, especially my aunt, who I was living with. It caused a big fight between us. I know I said I wasn’t keen on getting hitched, but at the same time, I couldn’t understand why she was so angry. I felt like she had her own agenda because we already had issues involving money and other family matters. Anyway, towards the end of our second year together, Tayo and I broke up again.

Ah, why?

Neema: We’d been going through a really rough patch. We argued a lot more than we used to, and eventually, parted ways. During the breakup, I found out he’d cheated multiple times while we were together. I got this information from people close to us in the church. I forgave him though, and we got back together despite everything. 

So he proposed after you found out about the infidelity?

Neema: Not particularly. He never actually proposed. Because of the pressure from the church and his family, we agreed to move forward with marriage since we loved each other. I had forgiven him, and we both wanted to move past the cheating and start our lives together as a couple.

Okay, so talk to me about the wedding. How did that go?

Neema: It never happened. We had just entered the third year of our relationship, and the marriage thing was becoming real. We’d bought the wedding dress and rings, sent out invites, notified the church, and planned everything else. In fact, Tayo and I had gone to the registry to finalise our preparations for the wedding. Even my aunt who had opposed the idea initially, eventually backed off and became more accepting. 

Three weeks before the wedding, my church organised a week-long retreat in Wales I had to attend because of my leadership role. On the way back from the retreat, one of the girls in the church confided in one of the other pastors on the trip that Tayo had been hosting her at his house. That wouldn’t have been an issue since we hosted our church members often. But she revealed that he tried to kiss her and made other advances. 

My head was hot. I felt more irritated than angry because I’d put up with so much from him. For him to act so brazenly, especially to the people who were under our care as leaders, was disgusting. The pastor who brought it to my attention was a good friend and called me as soon as she heard. 

Immediately after I got off the phone with the pastor, I confronted him, and he confessed. The church reached out to us and said that because he was a pastor who made advances at one of our members, we couldn’t move forward with the wedding. By then, I had already lost all interest, so the church just did what was on my mind. 

How did all this make you feel?

Neema: Honestly, I felt a sense of relief. I wasn’t completely sure that getting married at 22 was something I wanted to do anyway. The other parts of winding down a wedding that was no longer happening weren’t as bad as I thought it would be. Returning the dress, rings, and belongings we shared, felt mechanical. Since we were rushing to marry before he finished school, we hadn’t spent a lot. All I lost were some deposits to catering and decor vendors, but I’m fine with that.

What did you do after that?

Neema: I took a year off to collect myself and went back for my masters. In 2021,  I moved to Lagos to focus on my music. Tayo moved back to Nigeria in 2019, but I’ve had nothing to do with him ever since. And frankly, I’m not interested.

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