My name is Kunmi Thomas. I’m now married, peaceful, and fulfilled, but it took me 15 long years of heartbreak, confusion, and frustration with dating Nigerian women before I found peace and love… far away from home.

The major story started when I was 27. Freshly promoted at my job in the ICT sector, I was eager to settle down. I met Chika through a friend. She was elegant, smart, and from a “good family.” We dated for two years before I proposed. That’s when the mask fell off.

Her family suddenly became hyper-involved. Her mother insisted we host the engagement at a top-tier hotel and invite over 500 guests. The bride price list was ridiculous: ₦300k for “father’s cap,” ₦100k for “mother’s wrapper,” goats, yams, crates of wine, cash envelopes for uncles, cousins, even extended family I had never met. It wasn’t a celebration anymore, it felt like an extortion racket.

Chika herself became entitled overnight. She demanded a car before the wedding, wanted to stop working, and insisted on a 2-bedroom flat in Ilupeju. I told her I couldn’t afford that yet. She replied, “Then you’re not ready for marriage.” That engagement ended after months of trying to please a family that saw me as a bank, not a husband.

A few years later, I met Titi in Abuja. She was a corporate executive, articulate and driven. I thought, “Surely, a woman this accomplished won’t be materialistic.” I was wrong.

Within a year, I proposed. Same cycle again. Her friends and family started whispering about what car I was buying her for the wedding. Her elder sister even asked me directly, “Hope you're not planning any low-budget wedding o.” Titi wanted an extravagant wedding, a N10 million budget, a new apartment, and a full honeymoon in London. I asked, “What about our future?” She said, “We’ll figure it out after the wedding.”

Her attitude changed when I resisted. She started withholding affection, insulting my effort, comparing me to richer men. I realized she didn’t love me, she loved the idea of being a rich man’s wife. I called off the wedding. Again.

That was when I hit rock bottom emotionally. I questioned myself. Was I cursed? Were all Nigerian women this transactional? Did I expect too much from wanting love over luxury?

In 2020, I took a transfer opportunity and moved to Rwanda to lead an ICT project. I wasn’t even looking for love anymore, I just wanted peace. Then I met Ariella, a Rwandan social worker. Simple. Honest. Gentle.

She never asked me for anything. She cooked for me before I even took her on our first proper date. She supported my dreams. She laughed with me, not at me. She introduced me to her family with humility, no outrageous bride price list, no unnecessary ceremonies. When I proposed, her only request was that we build a happy home, not a flashy wedding.

Today, Ariella and I are married. We live in Kigali, raise our kids with love and values, and build our future together. No pressure. No exploitation. Just partnership.

My message to every man out there: don’t lose yourself trying to please the wrong woman. Don’t mistake love for leverage. If the cost of affection is your mental health, your finances, and your dignity—walk away.

Sometimes peace is not in the most familiar place. Sometimes, your true partner is not where you expected her to be.

I found mine when I stopped chasing impressions and started choosing substance.