By Daniel Nduka Okonkwo
In the fiery debate over Nigerian women and cross-cultural relationships, one truth emerges with explosive clarity: love and marriage in Nigeria are entangled in a web of cultural expectations, economic survival, and gendered power struggles. Conversations unfolding across social media and everyday life reveal how men lament being treated as “ATMs,” burdened by family obligations, hyperinflation, and societal pressure to provide, while accusing women of entitlement, lack of respect, and transactional attitudes toward romance. At the same time, a paradox emerges. Nigerian men often seek peace and appreciation abroad, claiming foreign women embody “femininity” and reciprocity, while Nigerian women are portrayed as combative, demanding, and unyielding. Yet beneath the accusations lies a deeper crisis. Dating has shifted from romance to survival, where financial strain, cultural norms, and family expectations dictate the rhythm of relationships. This is not just about gender wars. It is about a society where love itself has been monetized, respect weaponized, and partnership reduced to negotiation.
For generations, Nigerians have been taught to understand relationships through familiar ideas about love, responsibility, sacrifice, and family. Men are traditionally expected to provide, protect, and demonstrate their commitment through financial generosity, while women are often expected to contribute through emotional support, companionship, and the building of a home. But Nigeria is changing, and not necessarily in ways that make relationships easier. Behind the arguments about Nigerian men, Nigerian women, foreign partners, and the growing number of intercultural relationships is a deeper story that deserves more serious attention, the economics of dating in a country where inflation, unemployment, underemployment, and declining purchasing power are reshaping the meaning of romance itself.
The debate is often reduced to accusations. Some Nigerian men complain that relationships with Nigerian women have become too expensive and demanding. Some Nigerian women argue that men have become less responsible, less generous, and unwilling to fulfil traditional obligations. Others point to foreign relationships as evidence that Nigerian men and women behave differently when they leave the country. But beneath the gender war is an economic crisis. When an ordinary meal becomes expensive, transportation becomes a financial calculation, rent consumes a large proportion of income, and young people struggle to secure stable employment, dating cannot remain completely insulated from the economy. The question, therefore, is not simply whether Nigerian women are demanding or Nigerian men are stingy. The more important question is this. What happens to love when economic survival becomes a daily struggle?
Dating traditionally involves spending money, but economic hardship can transform ordinary romantic gestures into financial obligations. A dinner date requires transportation. Transportation requires fuel or fares. The meal costs money. A simple evening out can therefore become a significant expenditure for someone whose income is already under pressure. For unemployed and underemployed young Nigerians, even the expectation of regularly paying for dates can become intimidating. This has created what might be described as the provider pressure surrounding Nigerian masculinity. A man may be judged not simply by his character, intelligence, emotional maturity, or compatibility with a woman, but by what he can afford. Can he pay the bills? Can he provide transportation? Can he pay for food? Can he afford gifts? Can he contribute to hair, nails, clothing, data, rent, or other personal expenses? Can he assist her family? And eventually, can he support a household? These expectations do not exist in isolation. Nigerian men may simultaneously be supporting their parents, siblings, relatives, and dependents. The traditional expectation that a man should become the financial pillar of his immediate and extended family, therefore, collides with an economy that increasingly makes that responsibility difficult to sustain.
One of the strongest complaints emerging from conversations about modern Nigerian dating is the perception that some relationships have become transactional. The criticism is not that women should not expect generosity from men. Rather, the concern is that generosity can become an entitlement. When financial assistance becomes the principal evidence of love, the relationship can gradually lose its emotional foundation. A man who cannot constantly provide may suddenly be considered uncaring. A woman who contributes financially may be viewed as exceptional rather than as a partner. A date can become less about spending time together and more about what can be obtained from the encounter. This is where the controversial expression ATM relationship enters the conversation. It describes a situation in which one partner increasingly views the other as a source of financial resources. Yet there is an important caution here. This should not be used as a blanket description of Nigerian women. Many Nigerian women work, contribute financially to relationships, support their families, and make enormous sacrifices for their partners. The issue is behavioural, not biological or national. There are transactional men too. Some women exploit men, just as there are men who exploit women. The larger problem is what happens when poverty creates incentives for people to treat relationships as economic opportunities.
In an economy where stable employment is difficult to obtain, romantic relationships can sometimes become informal social safety nets. A financially vulnerable person may prefer a partner who has a stable salary, owns a home, drives a car, or has access to foreign currency. That does not necessarily mean the person is incapable of love. Economic insecurity can simply make financial stability an increasingly important factor in partner selection. This creates a dangerous feedback loop. People need money to date. They need money to get married. They need money to establish a home. They need money to raise children. They need money to support their extended family. And they increasingly judge prospective partners according to their ability to provide that money. Consequently, economic status can become intertwined with romantic desirability. The result is a dating environment where emotional compatibility may compete with financial survival.
The growing conversation about Nigerian men marrying or dating women from other nationalities is often presented as evidence that foreign women are inherently better than Nigerian women. That conclusion is too simplistic. People behave differently in different relationships, and individuals bring their personalities, expectations, and experiences into every relationship. Nevertheless, some Nigerian men say they perceive relationships with foreign women as less burdened by certain traditional expectations. Some describe these relationships as more reciprocal, particularly around household responsibilities and financial contributions. Others say they appreciate being treated as partners rather than automatically being regarded as providers. But this perception also requires scrutiny. Foreign women are not a homogeneous group, just as Nigerian women are not. There are demanding foreign women and generous Nigerian women. There are financially independent Nigerian women and financially dependent foreign women. The important issue is therefore not nationality. It is a relationship culture.
One of the least discussed aspects of the debate is the burden placed on Nigerian men themselves. Many boys grow up learning that their worth is connected to their ability to provide. A man who cannot provide is sometimes mocked as weak, irresponsible, or unsuccessful. A man who asks a woman to contribute may be accused of failing in his responsibilities. A man who refuses to spend heavily during courtship can be considered unserious. Yet the economic environment in which these expectations operate has changed dramatically. Income has not necessarily risen at the same pace as living costs. Employment is uncertain. Housing is expensive. Transportation is expensive. Food is expensive. The Nigerian man is therefore increasingly being asked to perform an old economic role in a new economic reality. That contradiction deserves serious discussion.
The problem begins long before people enter relationships. Many Nigerian boys are raised with the message that providing money is proof of love and manhood. At the same time, some girls are raised with the expectation that a man should finance virtually everything. Parents may evaluate a prospective son-in-law primarily by his income, profession, house, or car rather than his temperament, values, emotional maturity, and ability to build a healthy partnership. This can create unrealistic expectations before a relationship even begins. There is also remarkably little practical education about financial compatibility. Young people are rarely taught how to discuss money before entering serious relationships. They are not always taught how to create budgets together, divide household expenses, manage debt, support extended families, or establish financial boundaries. Instead, couples often enter marriage carrying assumptions inherited from their parents.
Dating and marriage in Nigeria can involve more than two people. For many men, responsibility extends to parents, siblings, and other relatives. For many women, the same is true. A person may enter marriage with existing obligations to a large family network. This creates another source of tension. A man may believe his primary responsibility is to his wife and children. His wife may believe she has a continuing obligation to her parents and siblings. Both positions can be legitimate, but without communication, they can become sources of conflict. The problem becomes particularly serious when one partner expects the other to finance obligations that were never mutually agreed upon. Marriage should not automatically become an unlimited financial guarantee for either partner’s extended family.
The debate is not only about money. Household labour is another major fault line. Traditional Nigerian culture has often treated domestic work as primarily a woman’s responsibility. Some parents, particularly mothers, raise sons without expecting them to participate meaningfully in household chores. Consequently, some men enter marriage believing that providing money exempts them from domestic responsibilities. But younger generations increasingly expect partnership. Cooking, cleaning, childcare, shopping, and other household responsibilities are forms of labour, even when they do not generate an income. A man who expects his wife to work outside the home, manage the household, and raise the children alone may eventually create resentment. Conversely, a woman who expects a man to finance everything while refusing to contribute to the partnership in other meaningful ways may create a different kind of resentment. The healthier model is not dominated by either sex. It is a partnership.
Some of the arguments surrounding this subject insist that Nigerian women should submit to their husbands. That language deserves careful examination. Respect is essential in a relationship. Humiliation, manipulation, contempt, and constant hostility can destroy intimacy regardless of gender. But respect cannot mean surrendering one’s autonomy or accepting abuse. A healthy Nigerian marriage should not require a woman to surrender her legal rights, financial independence, or dignity. Equally, a man should not be expected to tolerate disrespect simply because cultural tradition says that men must endure everything. The foundation should be mutual respect.
Another interesting part of this debate is the claim that some Nigerians behave differently when they live abroad. A Nigerian man or woman may suddenly encounter social systems where the consequences of domestic violence, financial abuse, harassment, or neglect are more clearly enforced. People may therefore adjust their behaviour. That does not necessarily mean they have become better people. Sometimes they have simply entered an environment where certain behaviours carry consequences. The same principle can apply to household responsibilities. Where both partners work, where domestic services are expensive, and where the law strongly protects individual rights, couples may be forced to negotiate responsibilities differently. Culture changes when incentives change.
There is also a danger in romanticising foreign relationships. A Nigerian man who has experienced an affectionate relationship with a foreign woman may conclude that foreign women are universally more appreciative. A Nigerian woman who has experienced a respectful foreign husband may reach the opposite conclusion about Nigerian men. Neither conclusion is necessarily supported by the evidence. Individual relationships cannot be used to judge entire nationalities. The real lesson may simply be that people tend to value relationships differently depending on their upbringing, expectations, economic circumstances, and personal character.
One concept repeatedly appearing in Nigerian relationship conversations is see finish, the tendency to undervalue someone because familiarity has removed the sense of appreciation. A partner may perform acts of kindness repeatedly until those acts are no longer seen as kindness but as obligations. This can happen to men and women. A man who constantly pays bills may eventually be expected to pay them without appreciation. A woman who cooks every day may eventually have her labour treated as automatic. A partner who provides emotional support may receive little acknowledgement because the support has become expected. Appreciation is therefore not a luxury in a relationship. It is part of maintaining intimacy.
The economic crisis also affects intimacy. Financial stress can produce arguments, resentment, insecurity, and emotional distance. When someone is worried about rent, school fees, food, transportation, or family obligations, romance can become difficult. A couple may love each other and still fight constantly because there is simply not enough money. This is why some relationship problems described as a lack of love are actually economic. A person under continuous financial pressure may become emotionally unavailable, irritable, or withdrawn. The partner may interpret that behaviour as a lack of affection. The economic crisis, therefore, does not merely empty wallets. It can also damage relationships.
The answer cannot be that Nigerian women should become more submissive or that Nigerian men should simply spend more. Both arguments miss the central issue. Nigerian relationships need to move from provider versus dependent toward partners building a life together. That does not mean every expense must be divided fifty-fifty. Couples have different incomes and circumstances. It means both people should contribute according to their capacity and agree openly about expectations. Money should be discussed before marriage. Family obligations should be discussed before marriage. Children should be discussed before marriage. Household responsibilities should be discussed before marriage. Career ambitions should be discussed before marriage. And perhaps most importantly, both partners should ask a fundamental question. What am I bringing into this relationship besides what I expect to receive?
The controversy over Nigerian men and women is ultimately a symptom of something much larger. Nigeria is experiencing an economic crisis that is changing how young people work, live, marry, and form families. When young people cannot secure stable employment, afford housing, or confidently plan their futures, marriage becomes more difficult. When inflation makes ordinary social activities expensive, dating becomes more expensive. When extended families struggle economically, pressure is transferred to those who earn. And when society continues to demand that men perform the traditional role of unlimited provider despite economic realities, frustration becomes inevitable. The solution is not a war between Nigerian men and Nigerian women. It is a national conversation about partnership, responsibility, economic survival, and the kind of families Nigerians want to build.
Love cannot pay rent. But neither can money alone create a healthy relationship. A relationship in which one person is permanently the provider and the other is permanently the beneficiary may survive for a while, but it risks turning affection into obligation. Likewise, a relationship in which both partners keep score of every contribution can become equally destructive. The strongest relationships may ultimately be those in which both people understand that they are not entering a transaction but a partnership. Nigeria’s economic crisis is forcing that conversation upon us.
The question is no longer simply whether Nigerian men prefer Nigerian women, or whether Nigerian women prefer Nigerian men. The more important question is whether Nigerians can build relationships in which neither partner feels exploited, neglected, financially imprisoned, or taken for granted. Because when the economy makes survival difficult, love requires something more than attraction. It requires honesty. It requires boundaries. It requires appreciation. It requires shared responsibility. And above all, it requires two people willing to bring something meaningful to the table.
Daniel Nduka Okonkwo is an investigative journalist, human rights advocate, and publisher, and the founder of Profiles International Human Rights Advocate, PIHRA. His work focuses on governance, accountability, and the protection of fundamental rights across Nigeria and Africa. His reporting has appeared in Vanguard, Daily Trust, Sahara Reporters, African Defence Forum, Opinion Nigeria, and Daily Intel, among others.
Read more of his work on the PIHRA blog: https://profilesinternationalhumanrightsadv.blogspot.com
For tips, feedback, or collaboration, reach him at dan.okonkwo.73@gmail.com
