In this article, we spoke to 10 women about what it was like growing up as the only daughter in their families, and how those experiences have shaped their relationships with their parents and brothers. 

1. 鈥淪he Didn鈥檛 Place Any Pressure on Me Simply Because I鈥檓 a Girl鈥� 鈥� Okiki*, 26

As my parents’ only daughter and my brothers鈥� youngest sibling, I was heavily spoilt. I grew up not knowing how to do a lot of things because the home I came from did not believe in the concept of letting their daughter suffer while the boys enjoyed. Our parents employed maids so we, their children, wouldn鈥檛 have to lift a finger, and my mum, unlike most of my friends鈥� mothers, did not display double standards when it came to my brothers and me. She didn鈥檛 put me in charge of taking care of my brothers; she never asked me to cook for my brothers, because she expected them to know their way to the kitchen, and she ensured that she didn鈥檛 place any pressure on me simply because I鈥檓 a girl. She and my father treated my brothers and me equally, and I never felt out of place because I was their only daughter. 

2. 鈥淚f They Got Into Trouble, I Got the Lashings鈥� 鈥� Dami*, 30聽

I have younger twin brothers, and I鈥檓 the first child and only daughter. My dad didn鈥檛 treat my brothers and me differently, but my mum was a different story. I only have a 2-year age gap with my brothers, and yet I became responsible for them even before I could define responsibility. I had to take care of them, wash their clothes, cook for them, and if they got into trouble, I was the one who would get lashings from my mother. I never had a moment of peace in my life because of my brothers. 

When they grew up, you would think they would start taking responsibility for themselves, but I was still the one who had to cook for them and take care of them because my mum couldn鈥檛 wrap her head around the idea of her baby boys doing domestic chores when their sister was around. I resented her and my brothers for this, and the moment I started earning a comfortable income, I moved out and didn鈥檛 look back. I barely visit home these days because I can鈥檛 even bear to look at my mum without resentment bubbling in me. 

3. 鈥淏ecause of My Mum, I Have a Weird Relationship With Boys鈥� 鈥� Chidera*, 24

My mum likes to say that she treats my brother and me equally, and while she might be right to an extent, I can鈥檛 forget all the times she would tell me things like 鈥渄on鈥檛 let men touch you, or else you鈥檒l get pregnant鈥� or 鈥渕ake sure not to befriend any boy鈥� before I even knew what sex was, but she or my dad never gave my brothers any sort of sex education. They were allowed to befriend girls in their classes while I avoided boys throughout primary school because I was convinced that if they touched me, I would immediately get pregnant. 

I also remember when I was 13, and my mum slapped me and seized my phone for six months because I was talking to a male friend, but she didn鈥檛 extend that same energy to my younger brother when we found out that he had a girlfriend he鈥檇 been giving all his feeding allowance to. I don鈥檛 hate my mum, but because of her, I have a weird relationship with boys and intimacy, and it鈥檚 taking me a while to unlearn. 

4. 鈥淭he Bullying I Faced Was Traumatising鈥� 鈥� Lola*, 25

I have two elder brothers who are four years older than me, and the bullying I faced at their hands while growing up was so traumatising. One minute we could all be laughing together, and the next, one of them is beating me so badly you would think they genuinely hated me. As much as the beatings left my body in pain afterwards, that鈥檚 not the hurtful part of all of this. What hurts the most is when I go to my mum in the hope that she will provide comfort and reprimand my brothers, but she never does. She would tell me to stop crying because I鈥檓 no longer a baby, and she would remind me that my brothers act like that because that鈥檚 how boys act. That seriously messed me up as a teenager, and even though I鈥檓 still very much in contact with my mother and brothers, I sometimes resent them for what they did to me. I was a child, and I didn鈥檛 deserve that. 

5. 鈥淚 Was Allowed to Be a Useless Girl鈥� 鈥� Olivia*, 21

I don鈥檛 think growing up among brothers affected me like that, but I think it鈥檚 because my parents didn鈥檛 treat anyone differently. I was allowed to be a girl who just existed on her terms. I didn鈥檛 have to be responsible for any of my brothers because my parents expected all of us to figure things out on our own. 

I was allowed to be a useless girl, and according to society standards, that meant a girl who didn鈥檛 know how to cook, do her laundry or clean the house. Basically, my parents raised me the way they raised my brothers. They didn鈥檛 place any unnecessary pressure on us to do household chores, and it wasn鈥檛 until after secondary school that I felt I needed to learn to cook for myself. 

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6. 鈥淓veryone Avoided Me Because of My Brothers鈥� 鈥� Mary*, 21

Growing up, I hated having brothers. They took on this role of protective bodyguards who literally chased people away from my life. They would see me talking to a boy and go behind my back to threaten him to stay away from me. I couldn鈥檛 even have a boyfriend because they either roughed him up or snitched on me to my parents. 

Almost everyone at my school and on my street started avoiding me because they were afraid of what my brothers would do to me. I know some might think having protective brothers is nice, but they have never cried at night, praying to God to kill them because no one wanted to be friends with the girl with feral elder brothers. 

7. 鈥淚 Feel Like a Discarded Child They Don鈥檛 Want鈥� 鈥� Amina*, 20

I have two brothers, one older and one younger, and I always felt out of place at home because it felt like my parents loved them more than they loved me. They always denied it, of course, but I could see that they had favourites, and it was never me. My dad would get my younger brother anything he wanted, but if I asked for the same thing, he would start coming up with reasons why he couldn鈥檛 buy it for me. 

My elder brother lost his phone, and my mum easily got him a replacement, but when I lost mine, it took her a whole month to get me a replacement. I don鈥檛 feel like I can rely on my parents because they don鈥檛 seem to love me in any way. They obviously see my brothers as some sort of blessing, but I feel like a discarded child that they don鈥檛 want. 

8. 鈥淚 Didn鈥檛 Have to Hide a Part of Myself From Them鈥� 鈥� Julia*, 26聽

My parents were barely involved in my brothers’ and my lives because they were so busy putting food on the table, so we only had each other to rely on most of the time. Because of that, I learnt a lot from them. I struggled a lot with my identity and sexuality right from a young age, and I always felt like I had no one to talk to. 

Our society already perceives people like me as immoral, and I was scared of letting anyone know that I preferred to kiss girls rather than boys. However, my first brother found out about it, and instead of shaming me, he talked to me and let me know that there was absolutely nothing wrong with me. My other brothers also talked to me, and I remember starting to feel relaxed enough to tell them about the girls I liked. Because of them, I didn鈥檛 feel like I had to hide a part of myself from the people I love, and I learnt a lot from them, too. 

9. 鈥淚t Was Forbidden to Talk to My Brothers Casually鈥� 鈥� Tolu*, 27

Having brothers as the only daughter was more of a curse than a blessing because it exposed me to how much our society would sacrifice for its boychild. It was like I was birthed to serve my brothers. My parents expected it from me; my relatives would call me lazy if they saw my brother going to the kitchen to cook, and the women in my life looked at me with disgust if I so much as asked why I had to cook for my brothers when their hands were working well. It was even forbidden for me to talk to my brothers casually because, apparently, that鈥檚 disrespectful by societal standards, and that just never made sense to me. If my brothers speak casually to me, it鈥檚 normal, but if I do, I lack respect? How does that work? 

10. 鈥淚 Don鈥檛 Know Why I Have to Be a Housemaid for Them鈥� 鈥� Cynthia*, 29

I didn鈥檛 realise that my parents were raising my brothers and me in unconventional ways until we started letting relatives live with us. I didn鈥檛 realise it was a girl’s job to cook for her brothers when they were hungry until my aunt, who was living with us, started berating me for not cooking for them. That was what grated on me in particular because if I was hungry, I had to cook, but if my brothers were hungry, it was still me who would cook. I never got that because I grew up with my brothers cooking for me whenever they cooked their meals. I鈥檓 not a fan of cooking, and my parents never shamed me for it, but my aunt suddenly started judging me for it, and that exposed me to the double standard that only daughters actually face in their homes. It does not make sense that I have to be a housemaid for my brothers. That鈥檚 not why my parents gave birth to me. 

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1. Liberal Feminism (Emerged in the 17th- 18th centuries)

Liberal feminism advocates equal rights, opportunities and freedom for women. It challenges laws, policies and social barriers that limit women鈥檚 access to education, employment, politics and reproductive choices to ensure women have the same opportunities and autonomy as men.

Central Figures: Mary Wollstonecraft and Betty Friedan

2. Socialist Feminism (Emerged in the 1960-70s)

Socialist feminism argues that women鈥檚 oppression is shaped by both capitalism and patriarchy. Rather than treating class inequality and gender inequality as separate issues, they dive deep into how economic exploitation, unpaid labour and patriarchal power interact and reinforce one another.

Central Figures: Juliet Mitchell and Heidi Hartmann

3. Radical Feminism (Emerged in 1967-69)

Radical feminism views patriarchy, the system of male power and dominance, as a fundamental source of women鈥檚 oppression. It examines how gender roles, sexuality, relationships, violence and expectations around women鈥檚 bodies can maintain this power, arguing that actual liberation requires more than simply tweaking discriminatory laws.

Central Figures: Andrea Dworkin, Audre Lorde, and Shulamith Firestone

4. Marxist Feminism (Emerged in the 1960s and 1970s)

Marxist feminism views women鈥檚 oppression through the lens of capitalism and class. It examines how women鈥檚 paid and unpaid labour, particularly domestic and reproductive labour, supports the capitalist economy while often going uncompensated or undervalued. It argues that women鈥檚 liberation is connected to transforming the economic structures that produce exploitation and inequality.

Central Figures: Silvia Federici and Lise Vogel

5. Black Feminism (Emerged in the late 1960s)

Black feminism centres the experiences of Black women and challenges the tendency of mainstream feminism to treat race as separate from gender. It emerged from Black women鈥檚 experiences of racism within feminist movements and sexism within racial justice movements, examining how race, gender, class and other forms of inequality can shape their lives simultaneously.

Central Figures: bell hooks, Audre Lorde, and Patricia Hill Collins

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6. Ecofeminism (Emerged in 1974)

Ecofeminism links the oppression of women with the exploitation of nature. They argue that systems of domination, including patriarchy, capitalism and colonialism, can shape both gender inequality and environmental destruction. Ecofeminists, therefore, associate women鈥檚 liberation with environmental justice and challenging systems that exploit both people and the planet.

Central Figures: Fran莽oise d鈥橢aubonne and Vandana Shiva

7. Postcolonial Feminism (Emerged in 1970s鈥�1980s)

Post-colonial feminism examines how the legacy of Western imperialism, colonialism, and neo-colonialism continues to shape the lives of women across the Global South. It critiques Western-centric feminist theories that universalise the experiences of Western women, highlighting how race, nation, class, and colonial history intersect to produce distinct forms of marginalisation and resistance.

Central Figures: Chandra Talpade Mohanty, Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak

8. African Feminism (Emerged in 1970s鈥�1980s)

African feminism centres the lived experiences of African women and challenges the assumption that Western feminist frameworks can fully explain them. It examines how gender intersects with African histories, colonialism, culture, and family structures, emphasising African women鈥檚 agency and self-determination in defining their own paths to liberation.

Central Figures: Molara Ogundipe-Leslie and Obioma Nnaemeka

9. Womanism (Coined in 1983)

Womanism centres Black women鈥檚 experiences, identities and perspectives, while recognising their relationships with other women, their communities and humanity. Coined by Alice Walker, it emerged from the need for a framework that reflected the realities of Black women and has since developed into different traditions, including Africana womanism and womanist theology.

Central Figure: Alice Walker

10. Intersectional Feminism (Coined in 1989)

Intersectional feminism examines how different structures of power and inequality overlap to shape women鈥檚 experiences. Developed from Kimberl茅 Crenshaw鈥檚 work on intersectionality, this school of feminism shows how factors such as race, gender, class and disability can interact, meaning that women do not all experience sexism in the same way.

Central Figures: Kimberl茅 Crenshaw and bell hooks

11. Decolonial Feminism (Coined in 2010)

Decolonial feminism examines how colonialism and Western systems of power have shaped ideas about gender, race, sexuality and womanhood. It challenges the assumption that Western feminist perspectives can represent all women and centres the knowledge, histories and experiences of women from communities affected by colonialism.

Central Figures: Mar铆a Lugones, and Oy猫r贸nk岷固� Oy臎w霉m铆

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Here are seven moments from the campaign that stood out to us. 

1. Queen Thompson Was Not About to Fall for Another Scam

After being scammed twice earlier in the year, Queen Thompson had good reason to be suspicious when she received a call claiming she had won the grand prize in the Guinness promo. If you were in Queen鈥檚 situation, would you immediately believe it?

Exactly. 

However, she eventually believed them, and look at how that turned out for her. She went from suspecting a scam to seeing her brand-new Toyota Land Cruiser Prado in the flesh. Truly, what her God can鈥檛 do does not exist. 

2. The Whisper Game That Went Wrong聽

Anyone who has ever played the whisper game would tell you how easily it is to descend into chaos, and if you鈥檝e seen content creator Jojofalani鈥檚 take on it, it was absolutely no different. He asked a line of guys on the street to pass along a simple message: 鈥榊ou can win a Toyota Land Cruiser Prado in the Current Guinness Promo.鈥� By the time it reached the last person, the words had turned into gibberish. Prado had somehow turned into 鈥楶rize 鈥�, and some of them were passing along words like 鈥榠n the next three months on the month鈥�

Nigerians. You鈥檝e just gotta love them.聽

3. Cynthia Who Originally Had 鈧�300 In Her Account

Imagine this: one minute, you are a market woman trying to get by with only 鈧�300 in your account, and the next minute, you are suddenly credited 鈧�1,000,000. That was Cynthia鈥檚 reality when Kraks TV host, Aramide, surprised her with the news that Guinness had credited her with the money. 

Cynthia was so happy with the news that she practically lifted Aramide off her feet, and honestly, that was such a joy to watch. Thank you, Guinness! 

4. Joseph Vs. 90 codes: Joseph Won

Imagine that the next code you enter is the one. Now imagine entering almost 90 of them first. That鈥檚 Joseph Nwafor, A devout Guinness Drinker who treated persistence like a full-time job. His reward? 鈧� 100,000, and a visit to the Guinness Headquarters in Ikeja, where the team was thrilled to hear his story.聽

Moral of the story: If at first you don鈥檛 succeed, try, and try again. And again. About 90 times.  

5. The Oliver Twist Story聽

When Mrs Mojisola was informed that she had won 100,000 naira, she was delighted. So delighted that when she was asked what she would do with the money, she said she would buy more Guinness, as she would like to win more.聽

She was indeed Open for more. 

6. Asherkine鈥檚 Cash Express Delivery聽

One thing we learnt from this campaign was how Guinness was intentional with their prize winners. They are so intentional that they had famous content creator Asherkine surprise Mr Chidebere, a motor spare parts dealer, with his winnings in cold, hard cash. Oh, to be Mr Chidebere, existing in his home in Ejigbo one minute, and receiving 鈧�1 million the next.聽

7. Nigerian Skitmakers Will Always Understand the Assignment

From Miss Ezeani鈥檚 procrastination skit to 2pacishakeh鈥檚 warning about throwing a potential Prado, content creators found hilarious ways to creatively weave the Guinness Open for More into everyday Nigerian situations. Whether it was a group of friends arguing over bottle caps or people hoping to manifest their way out of paying rent, the skits felt like something Nigerians could see themselves doing, and really, who would have thought a bottle cap could inspire so much creativity?

This is Arinola鈥檚 Story As Told To Sofiyah 

My husband, Olu*, was an orphan, and because he was the first son and grandchild in both parents鈥� families, he had to take on a lot of familial responsibilities before he even turned eighteen. Because of this, everyone began to feel entitled to him, his money, and his time, and I guess that was one of the reasons they began to detest me even before I married him. 

As Olu鈥檚 girlfriend, I faced a lot of blink-and-you-miss-it passive aggressiveness from his family, especially his siblings. Right from the moment he introduced me to them, I could feel the coldness radiating from them. They acted like I was dirt under their shoes; they would often mispronounce my name and occasionally make snide jokes about me being a mere HnD holder. Around Olu, they were respectful, but when he was out of sight, they would make subtle mockery until I was near tears. 

I felt like I couldn鈥檛 tell Olu about it because he loved his siblings very much. When I told my mum, she said that was how my father鈥檚 siblings had acted towards her before, but now they like her, and she advised me to give them time to get used to me. I listened to her advice and, even in the face of all the meanness, did my best to be nice to his family.  That鈥檚 something I regret even to this day. 

The day after Olu proposed to me, I remember my eldest sister, Lola*, sitting me down in our shared room to tell me to at least get acclimatised to the ways of his household for at least a year before deciding to get pregnant, because I might never know what might happen. Honestly, I should have listened to her instead of getting pregnant three months into our marriage. If I had, maybe Olu鈥檚 sudden cancer diagnosis wouldn鈥檛 have completely changed my life as it did. 

It was lung cancer. Olu had been experiencing some worrying symptoms, like his blood-streaked coughs, and, concerned, I told him to go to the hospital because I thought it was going to be something curable, but he came home and informed me that he had been diagnosed with second-stage lung cancer. I remember being six months along in my pregnancy and going mute for an hour after he told me about his diagnosis. I didn鈥檛 want to cry because he was crying, and even though it seemed selfish of me, all I could think about was the fate of our child and me. I鈥檇 believed that getting married to Olu would make his family’s hearts soften towards me, but it didn鈥檛 work like that. They still hated me, and a part of me already predicted the amount of shege I would endure if Olu鈥檚 condition got worse. 

From the day we found out about his diagnosis, my perfectly normal life capsized. Suddenly, I was drowning. Before I knew it, his condition got worse, and he had to be at the hospital all the time. All our savings and any little money we had went into his treatments. I became someone who had to beg people for money because Olu鈥檚 family, who should have been there for him, kept lying to me, saying they didn鈥檛 have any money to give me. They were completely useless and barely visited the hospital. Thank God for people at Olu鈥檚 workplace and my family, who kept giving me the money that the hospital requested or else I would have been completely helpless. It鈥檚 a shame that all that money we put into ensuring Olu would survive was useless, though, because just two weeks after giving birth to our son, Olu died, and my journey into hell started.聽

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It was like Olu鈥檚 family was waiting for their son to die so they could finally express their hatred toward me. My husband鈥檚 body was not even cold in the ground; I was still in post-birth pains and grieving the love of my life, who could barely even hold his child before he died. I thought I would be allowed at least two months before family wahala entered the mix, but they didn鈥檛 even give me the grace.聽

After Olu鈥檚 burial, his family started accusing me of the most ridiculous things. At first, it was killing my husband, saying that he was completely healthy before I stepped into his life, and how did his condition worsen so quickly? Somehow, they accused me of witchcraft. I was in the throes of Post-Partum Depression, and yet I had to face all those accusations. At the time, my siblings, who would have faced my in-laws head-on, had already relocated abroad, and my parents were honestly just concerned with keeping my child and me alive. 

Every day I woke up, there was always someone from Olu鈥檚 family in the house. I didn鈥檛 even know they had somehow found a way to duplicate our house keys so they could enter whenever they wanted. They expected me, in my state, to cater to them, and when my mum gently reminded them that I鈥檓 a new mother who just lost her husband, they would make it about them and ask us if they also didn鈥檛 lose someone. 

Their mistreatment got worse, and the rumours went from me killing my husband with witchcraft to my son not being Olu鈥檚 child because, in their words, he didn鈥檛 look like him. They called family meetings on my head and kept telling me to confess to it. I don鈥檛 remember a lot of what happened in the months after my husband鈥檚 death because I was completely numb to everything. I could barely give my son the attention he deserved in those months, so when they called family meetings, I would just keep quiet and let my mum lead. Every day, it was always a new thing with them, but my mum and I knew they were trying to find something to pin me with because they wanted to take Olu鈥檚 properties. I know they were particularly resentful that Olu and I had a large amount of money saved for our son’s upkeep, and that I was the only one who could access it. The thing is, I understand that some families get cruel and greedy after the death of a family member, but the fact that they couldn鈥檛 hide it at all? It felt like they were waiting for him to die so they could take all his things and deny my son and me. 

The witch hunt continued, and as everything became overwhelming, I decided to visit my aunt, who lived two states away. That was the first time since my husband died that I had anything close to peace, and it was only when I experienced that peace that I allowed myself to mourn my husband. It was genuinely so cathartic, and after crying all the tears I could, I reached a strange sense of acceptance. Maybe that was why, when I got back home a week later to find out that Olu鈥檚 family had raided the entire house in my absence, I wasn鈥檛 too surprised or angry. They took everything down to the generator, and the only things left in the house were me and my child鈥檚 belongings. 

I鈥檇 already made peace with the fact that they were horrible human beings, and I decided in that moment that people who were capable of causing me more pain when I was already in a dark place do not deserve any attention in my mind. I moved back to my parents鈥� house, and it was there that I finally had the time to care for my son the way he deserved. I deleted all my in-laws鈥� contact numbers and focused on healing and finding a job that would sustain me and my child. 

A year into living with my parents, my brother, who had already settled down in the United Kingdom, suggested that my son and I come live with him, and he even offered to cover all the bills. I agreed immediately because, frankly, being in Nigeria just constantly reminded me of all the what-could-have-beens with Olu. I needed a fresh start, so I agreed to join him, and in four or five months, my son and I said goodbye to Nigeria.聽

It has been about eight years since I left the country, and around my fourth year in the UK, my in-laws somehow found my contact number and have been harassing me. They either call to beg for money (which is ridiculous because what money did they put in my hands?) or tell me that they want to see their brother鈥檚 son. When I blocked them, they began to harass my parents and even my siblings. It was really pathetic to see them do that, and I was just glad I was no longer in the country, because I know they鈥檙e capable of finding me at my house. To me, my in-laws belong to my past, and even though they still occasionally find a way to reach me, I am determined to forget them and the pain they caused me. 

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This is Mercy鈥檚 Story As Told To Sofiyah

I was an only child, which meant my mother and I were very close. She tried to be both my parent and my friend, so we could gossip and talk about almost any subject that exists on the surface of the earth. Sex, however, was one subject she wouldn鈥檛 entertain. Whenever I tried to bring it up, she became dismissive, and at ages 12-13, I couldn鈥檛 understand why we could talk so freely about everything else but not something I was curious about and wanted to understand. I didn鈥檛 realise then how much her silence would influence the decisions I made as a teenager.

Although I had a good childhood, I often felt lonely. My routine revolved around school and my mother鈥檚 shop, where I spent most of my time helping her. I had few opportunities to spend time with friends.Even though I was friends with older women, I longed for the company of people my own age. I wanted friendships where I could feel understood and talk about the things I struggled to discuss at home.

At 13, I knew very little about sex, pregnancy or how my body worked. When I got my period, the only guidance I received was from school on how to use a pad. Most of what I knew about sex came from school and conversations with other teenagers, who confidently spoke as though they understood everything. I was extremely curious, and because I had so many unanswered questions, thanks to my mum, I tended to believe whatever information my friends fed me.

My friends had boyfriends, and I gradually began to feel that I should have one too. I attended a Catholic school, while some of the boys we considered exciting or 鈥渃ool鈥� went to a nearby government school. Because I was always busy at my mother鈥檚 shop, I rarely had time to go out, so church all-night programmes became one of the few opportunities I had to spend time with my friends. Sometimes I would slip away to meet them at a lounge, enjoying what felt like a small part of my life that was mine, separate from school and the shop.

Eventually, I started dating one of the boys who expressed interest in me. We attended different schools, and the relationship was shaped by the little time I had to see him. I was 13, curious and making decisions without fully understanding their consequences. I wasn鈥檛 forced into having sex, but I lacked the information I needed to understand pregnancy or protect myself. I knew people had sex, yet I didn鈥檛 believe that what happened between us could result in a pregnancy.

By the time I became pregnant, I was in SS2, and my days were already exhausting. I spent long hours helping at the shop, sometimes staying until late at night before waking up early to prepare for school. When I began feeling unusually tired in the mornings, I assumed it was because I wasn鈥檛 getting enough rest. I was also gaining weight, which didn鈥檛 concern me because I had always been skinny, and my mother had spent years trying to help me put on weight. I thought she would be happy to see the change.

My mother noticed that something was wrong and, one Friday, told me I was too unwell to go to school before taking me to the hospital. I didn鈥檛 know she had arranged for me to take a pregnancy test. Afterwards, she began giving me medication, saying I had malaria and needed a stronger drug. I trusted her and took what she gave me, completely unaware that she and my father already knew I was pregnant.

My parents kept the news from me while they tried to decide what to do. My father wanted me to continue the pregnancy, partly because my mother had long prayed for another child, and he thought this might be a way for her to have one. He was also concerned about my education and wanted me to finish my secondary school exams before the pregnancy became more difficult to manage. At the time, I was still in SS2, which meant my school wouldn’t allow me to sit for WAEC exams. To get around this, he arranged for me to be enrolled at a completely different school so I could write the exams with their SS3 students the following month. 

It was after my exams were over that my father finally told me I was pregnant. On hearing that, I  cried uncontrollably and refused to believe him, even when he showed me the test result. I knew I had a boyfriend, but I had never imagined that I could become pregnant at 13. I felt as though my life was over, and I was especially frightened of my mother鈥檚 reaction because she had gone quiet. Convinced she might beat me, I ran outside and refused to come back in until my father eventually reassured me that she wouldn鈥檛 hurt me.

The following day, my mother still wasn鈥檛 speaking to me. Frightened of being mocked by my classmates, the church and the wider community, I spent the night searching online for ways to end the pregnancy. I wasn鈥檛 thinking about my distant future; I was worried about how people would look at me and how humiliating it would be to become pregnant at 13 when I was considered someone who knew everything.

I also began asking older women questions indirectly, hoping someone would tell me how to terminate the pregnancy. When one of them reported this to my mother, she finally started speaking to me again. She told me about a relative who had tried to end a pregnancy using dangerous mixtures and died, explaining that she was afraid I might do something that put my own life at risk. She promised to help me get through the pregnancy without leaving me completely exposed to people鈥檚 mockery.

That conversation changed something between us. My mother began buying me beautiful maternity clothes, and instead of encouraging me to hide my pregnancy, she taught me how to carry it openly. She told me that if I dressed well and carried myself with confidence, people would have less room to laugh at me. Although that couldn鈥檛 stop the rumours, her support helped me face a situation I had been terrified of.

People speculated about who had impregnated me, while others accused my parents of arranging the pregnancy. My classmates, many of whom had encouraged me to get a boyfriend, behaved as though I had done something they could never imagine doing themselves. On days when I went for antenatal appointments, some of them waited near the school gate to watch me pass and laugh at my stomach. My mother helped me manage the practical difficulties of pregnancy, but there was little she could do to protect me from the humiliation that followed me around.

I was also angry with my father for keeping the pregnancy from me. I understood why my mother had tried to protect me, but I felt that my father had decided my life without giving me a say. As I grew older, I began to see the situation differently. I believe that if I had discovered the pregnancy on my own, I might have followed the dangerous advice people were giving me because I was desperate to hide it from my parents. Even so, at the time, I felt that the decision to continue the pregnancy had been taken away from me.

As the pregnancy progressed, my mother helped me prepare for delivery. My father had initially wanted me to give birth with a traditional birth attendant, but my mother and I opted for a hospital delivery after witnessing a difficult delivery there that ended in a stillbirth. When my labour eventually began, the pain was unlike anything I had expected. At the hospital, I refused to let a male staff member examine me and insisted on seeing a woman instead. The hospital was crowded, and word had spread through the community that I was about to give birth. People came to see whether I would deliver safely or whether something terrible would happen because I was so young.

Inside the labour room, the experience was agonising. Due to the fact that my body was still so small, the medical staff had to perform a severe episiotomy, cutting me with scissors to make room for the baby, and I felt every part of it. When they stitched me back up afterwards, they told me they couldn鈥檛 give me another dose of anaesthesia, so I felt every pass of the needle.

Despite the intense pain, I gave birth to my daughter, and my mother was so focused on making sure I was safe that she didn鈥檛 want to hold the baby until she knew I was alright. My parents were deeply involved in caring for us: my mother handled much of the practical work, while my father made sure I had a room of my own. I was cared for, but becoming a mother at 13 changed how I saw myself and what I believed was possible for my future.

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Before the pregnancy, I had roles and opportunities waiting for me at church, but after writing my exams, I never returned to secondary school and couldn鈥檛 bring myself to go back to church. I watched other people take up the opportunities I had expected to have while I stayed home caring for my child. Even with my family鈥檚 support, it felt as though my childhood had ended the day I gave birth.

Life became more difficult a few months later, when the government demolished shops and markets, affecting my mother鈥檚 business and putting pressure on our finances. The strain began to change our relationship. My mother, who had once tried to shield me from the world鈥檚 judgment, started taking out her frustration on me. When I asked for things my baby needed, she sometimes insulted me and reminded me that I should have been concentrating on school instead of getting pregnant. I remained grateful for everything she had done for me, but living with those constant reminders of my mistake was painful.

There were times when I wanted to run away, and I even struggled with resentment towards my daughter because I associated motherhood with the upheaval in my life. It is difficult to admit that now, but it was how I felt then. I was still young myself, trying to understand what had happened to me while carrying responsibilities I had never expected to have so early.

I knew I needed a way forward, driven heavily by a desire to escape the constant insults and to prove my relatives wrong, especially my uncles, who mocked me and declared that my life had ended with a child in my arms. I wrote the JAMB exams to get into university, but I was initially offered a course my father didn’t like, and my mother felt my baby was still too young for me to leave home. So I waited an extra year and retook the exam.

I eventually returned to school to study medicine. Before leaving home, I promised myself I wouldn鈥檛 come back because I needed distance from the shame and insults. I started businesses while in school so I could earn my own money instead of depending on my mother. When her shop was demolished again, however, I returned to help her rebuild and took out a loan in my own name. In 2024, my mother passed away, leaving me to repay the debt while grieving her and trying to find a way to support myself and my daughter.

In 2024, I began creating content online, initially for fun and as a way of processing the pain of losing my mother. I had been using organic skincare products, but after her death, I neglected my routine and noticed changes in my skin. That experience pushed me to learn more about skincare, and I started making videos debunking claims about products that hadn鈥檛 worked for me, then moved on to honest reviews of products I had actually used.

As brands began reaching out, content creation gradually became a source of income. I rebranded as Mercy the Influencer because I wanted to work with different kinds of brands without feeling pressured to make claims I didn鈥檛 believe in. Calling out brands that wanted me to promote products dishonestly also helped me build trust with my audience, which was important to me.

The income made my life more manageable. I moved from a one-room apartment to a two-bedroom flat, could afford more of what I needed and began paying my way through school. I was also able to bring my daughter from my dad鈥檚 house to live with me, and I now pay her bills and school fees. For a long time, though, I kept motherhood separate from my life by not mentioning her at all at medical school because I wanted to experience a new environment without being reduced to the girl who got pregnant at 13. I wanted to prove the relatives who believed my life was over wrong, especially as some people continued to question whether I could succeed as a young mother studying medicine.

Today, I am proud to be a mother. People are often surprised when I tell them I have a daughter, particularly when they see us together, but I no longer mind being known as a mother. I am proud of what I have built, although I don鈥檛 want my story to be used as evidence that a teenage pregnancy is easy to recover from. When I think about the shame, trauma and opportunities I lost, I recognise that my circumstances were more manageable than those of many other girls.

What I wish I had at 13 was proper sex education: an understanding of my menstrual cycle, ovulation, pregnancy and the consequences of having sex. I wish I could have asked my mother questions without feeling that the subject was forbidden. Keeping young people uninformed doesn鈥檛 stop them from being curious or making decisions; it leaves them searching for answers from people who may not know what they are talking about.

When I look at the girl I was at 13 and the woman I am today, I see a survivor. I was a child pushed into adulthood too quickly, and I had to find my way through public shame, other people鈥檚 expectations, grief and financial pressure. I survived and built a life I can be proud of, but I also know how different things might have been if I had received the information and support I needed when I was younger. I hope girls who have had similar experiences understand that their lives are not over and that they deserve more than judgment. They deserve education, support and the opportunity to grow beyond what happened to them.

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This is Funmilayo鈥檚 Story As Told To Sofiyah 

Fifteen years ago, when I was in my final year of university, I met my best friend, Amara*. We were in the same faculty but in different departments, and she was the kind of person everyone liked to call a 鈥渉appening babe.鈥� Amara has always been a social butterfly, and there were times when I thought it would be nice to be her friend. So, when she approached my table at the school鈥檚 main buka joint because everywhere was packed, I struck up a conversation with her, and that was the beginning of our story. 

After our first conversation at the buka, Amara and I began to meet up, and before we knew it, we became so tight-knit in a way that you couldn鈥檛 see me without seeing Amara, and vice versa. Even our families became friends. Amara was someone I trusted with all my heart, and I never felt I had to doubt her, so when she introduced Ade* to me a few months after our graduation and said she thought we would make good partners, I didn鈥檛 find it suspicious. Amara was aware of how unlucky I was with romance, and since my parents were on my neck about getting married, I thought her matchmaking me with Ade was really thoughtful. 

Ade presented himself as a very nice person. He is a well-spoken and intentional man, and I, along with my parents, really liked that. Even Amara鈥檚 parents, after I brought Ade to them, liked him. Amara鈥檚 sister, Chikamma*, however, was a different story. She was so hostile to Ade, and although I found that kind of hostility weird, because Chikamma is a sweet girl, I waved it off because I believed it was her being protective. 

Almost two years after meeting Ade, he and I got married, and it was the most beautiful wedding ever. I had Amara as my chief bridesmaid, and I was getting married to a man I thought was the love of my life. What more could a girl ask for, really? In our marriage, I was trapped in that honeymoon bubble for over six months until it popped. Before we got married, Ade told me his job would occasionally require him to travel for two to three weeks, and I told him I didn鈥檛 mind, even though a part of me did because I don鈥檛 like being alone for long periods. 

So, when he started travelling, I would keep myself busy with work or just be on long phone calls with Amara, because usually around the time Ade was out of state, she was also conveniently never around. Whenever I hung out with Chikamma during those periods and started talking about how much I missed both Ade and Amara, she would stare at me with so much pity, but I didn鈥檛 really deep it. 

I only began to suspect that Ade was cheating on me two years into our marriage. The suspicion took root when he continued to use a condom with me even though I told him I was ready to have a baby. He told me that he was not ready to be a father. I thought it was even because of his constant travel, so when I met one of his coworkers at an event, I joked to her that work was always making my husband travel, and she laughed before asking, 鈥淲hich travel?鈥� 

That was how I found out that work was not making my husband travel anywhere, and he has just been lying to my face since we got married. Instead of confronting him immediately, I confided in Amara, who immediately got angry on my behalf. As we kept talking, she asked me to calm down and tried to argue that maybe he wasn’t cheating. That infuriated me because I knew he was her friend too, but what could be the reason for him travelling for almost two weeks every two months? 

I remember leaving her place and going home to confront him about it. His reason for travelling lacked conviction. He said he liked having quiet time to himself, but I didn鈥檛 believe that rubbish, so I asked to go through his phone. He easily handed it over to me, but apart from his chat with me, his co-workers, parents, and Amara, there was nothing, so I gaslit myself into believing what he said. After that, I told him he couldn鈥檛 travel for 鈥渨ork鈥� unless he actually showed me proof that it was a work-assigned trip. It caused some issues, but the travelling stopped, and I had my husband to myself. 

When Ade stopped travelling, I noticed that Amara suddenly became cold to me. She wouldn鈥檛 pick up my calls, she would cancel our weekly hangouts, and she constantly made excuses not to see me. I kept obsessing over it until her mum called one day and asked me if I knew who Amara鈥檚 lover was. I didn鈥檛 even think Amara had a lover because she had always called herself a working-class babe who did not need love, so when I told her mum this, she told me that it couldn鈥檛 be possible because Amara was pregnant and didn鈥檛 want to talk about who was responsible. 

That was information I wasn鈥檛 privy to, and after I hung up, I called her to ask about it. She said she didn鈥檛 want to talk about it because the man, who was responsible for it, had been ignoring her calls. When I told her to give me his number so I could call him, she suddenly got shifty, and so I assumed she was just ashamed or something. That evening, when Ade came back from work, I told him about it because I was genuinely worried about Amara, and his reaction was鈥arring. He suddenly got angry and asked me if Amara was his business, and why I was telling him rubbish like that. Amara was his friend, so I didn鈥檛 understand why he reacted like that. 

For weeks, Ade moved through the house like a very angry bull, so I assumed that he was just angry about something, and when he was ready to talk, he would tell me. I didn鈥檛 even particularly care too much about what he was going through because I was worried about Amara and her decision to remain silent about the man responsible for her pregnancy, even though everyone was on her neck about it. The only person who was apathetic about her situation was Chikamma, and I noticed that every time she opened her mouth, it was to tell Amara she deserved whatever was happening to her. 

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I was so pissed off by Chikamma鈥檚 behaviour, and despite Amara telling me not to confront her, I called Chikamma to let her know what she was doing to Amara was unfair, and just because she got pregnant while unmarried does not mean she should be judged for it. When I was done talking, Chikamma said she would like to tell me a story, and even though I thought it was weird, I allowed her. 

She started telling me a story about an Igbo girl and a Yoruba boy who met when the girl was in her first year of university. They loved each other a lot, but because the boy鈥檚 parents would rather die than let their son marry an Igbo girl, they decided to find a way to be together without breaking up. So, the girl thought it would be a good idea to matchmake the boy with her naive Yoruba best friend so she could still date him behind said best friend鈥檚 back. For years, while the best friend remained unaware, they kept dating and concocted lies to the best friend about travelling for work. The boy also uses a condom with her best friend because the girl does not want him impregnating any person that is not her. 

When Chikamma started telling the story, my brain didn鈥檛 process anything until it got to the part about the Yoruba best friend, and that was the moment I almost went mad. After the story ended, I thanked Chikamma. I understood that out of loyalty to Amara, she didn鈥檛 tell me, but I remembered all the times she would make Ade uncomfortable every time he was in her vicinity, so I was very appreciative of that. 

Honestly, it would have made sense if the first thing I did after finding out that my husband and my best friend have been tricking me right from day one was to go on a killing rampage, but I called my parents and told them that my husband has impregnated someone else, and I don鈥檛 think I want to have anything to do with him anymore. They didn鈥檛 even ask questions or try to persuade me to talk to him. They found a driver to come pick me up immediately, and they called Ade鈥檚 parents to let them know that they would be returning my bride price. 

When Ade and Amara found out that I knew what was going on between them, they tried their best to reach out, but I was very numb because who would be callous enough to do that to someone? If Amara hadn鈥檛 gotten pregnant, I wouldn鈥檛 have found out, and I would have continued with him for more years, completely unaware. About six months after I left Ade, his parents found out about Amara, and since they couldn鈥檛 be tribalistic when a child, that they鈥檇 been asking for was now involved, they allowed them to have their small wedding. 

It wasn鈥檛 until their daughter turned six months old that Ade and I鈥檚 divorce finally went through. He and Amara are still asking for forgiveness, but I do not want to have anything to do with them. Many years have passed, and I still do not want anything to do with them. I haven鈥檛 even fully processed how much that incident has caused me to completely give up on romance in particular. I don鈥檛 think I can trust anyone anymore because if my best friend could do that to me, who鈥檚 to say another person wouldn鈥檛?聽

It鈥檚 exactly this reason why having more treatment options matters a lot. In Nigeria, HIFU is one of those options.聽 introduced ultrasound-guided HIFU in Nigeria in 2021 and has now completed 1,000 HIFU treatments for fibroids and adenomyosis.聽

So, what does this milestone mean for women?

1. Let鈥檚 Get Into It: What Even is HIFU?聽

If you鈥檝e been hearing about HIFU but still have zero idea about what it actually means, don鈥檛 worry. We鈥檙e here to make things a little easier for you.聽

HIFU stands for High-Intensity Focused Ultrasound. It uses concentrated ultrasound energy to heat and remove targeted tissue. In fibroid treatment, the treated tissue is slowly broken down and absorbed by the body, allowing the fibroid to shrink over time. 

2. So, Why Does HIFU Matter?聽

Fibroids can affect women in many ways. Some women have no symptoms, while others experience heavy or prolonged periods, pelvic pain, pressure, urinary symptoms or pain during sex. 

For Nigerian women who have needed treatment, having access to a treatment like HIFU means having another option to consider, and that鈥檚 a great thing. 

3. Is HIFU Suitable for Everyone?聽

Not necessarily. 

Fibroids often differ in size, number and location, so HIFU should not be presented as a one-size-fits-all solution. Your symptoms, reproductive plans, and even the characteristics of your fibroid all matter when it comes to deciding if HIFU is the right treatment option for you. A specialist can assess your condition and talk you through available treatment options. 

4. Okay, But Does it Actually Work?

Research has found that HIFU can significantly improve fibroid symptoms and the patient鈥檚 quality of life while also reducing fibroid size. However, it is not a permanent fix, even though we wish it were. Just like treating with surgery, fibroids can recur or develop again, and some women may eventually need another intervention. The goal is therefore to treat the condition in a way that is appropriate for the individual patient, rather than to promise that a single procedure ends the story.

5. What About Adenomyosis?

Good question. Adenomyosis is different from fibroids, even though they can cause similar symptoms, such as heavy bleeding and painful periods. It happens when tissue similar to the uterine lining grows into the muscle of the uterus.

HIFU can target the affected tissue without removing the uterus, making it an option for some women. However, it isn鈥檛 a guaranteed fertility treatment, and outcomes can vary.

6. If Having Children is a Part of the Plan

It is easy to see why fertility becomes part of the HIFU conversation. Since the treatment does not involve the removal of the uterus, it may be attractive to women who want to preserve the possibility of future pregnancy. However, keeping the uterus and proving that a treatment improves fertility are not the same thing. Your chances of getting pregnant can depend on your fibroids, your overall fertility and other individual factors. 

If you want children in the future, do make sure to have an extensive conversation with your gynea about how each treatment may affect your fertility before deciding.

7. Nigeria鈥檚 Role Goes Beyond Having the Technology

The development of HIFU at Fibroid Care Centre @ Nordica also creates opportunities for Nigerian clinicians to build expertise through training and ongoing work with the technology.

The wider significance is that healthcare innovation is not only about bringing equipment into the country. It is about developing the people, systems and expertise needed to use that technology properly and sustainably. For Nigerian women, that can mean greater access to advanced treatment without automatically having to seek care abroad.

8. Local Access Could Also Help Reduce Medical Tourism

For women who would spend millions to travel abroad so they can access HIFU, having the treatment available in Nigeria means they can explore an option closer to their home soil. It also gives Nigerians living abroad the opportunity to return home for care.聽

Fibroid Care Centre @ Nordica says it also receives patients from other African countries, including Ghana and Senegal, creating the potential for Nigeria to serve women across the region seeking HIFU. 

9. The Bigger Milestone Here? More Appropriate Choices for Women

The most important takeaway here is not that HIFU should replace other treatments. It is that women鈥檚 reproductive healthcare works better when treatment can be tailored to the person rather than reduced to one standard solution. 

Ultimately, innovation should offer women more options rather than present a single treatment as the answer for everyone. The 1,000-treatment milestone means HIFU is now one of those options for women in Nigeria. 

In this article, we asked ten women to share the moments they realised their friends were too male-centred.

1. 鈥淪he Missed My Birthday to Meet a Man for the First Time鈥� 鈥� Chloe*, 30聽

My ex-best friend is a pick-me who is very male-centred. At first, I hardly paid attention to it because I didn鈥檛 really think it was a bad thing until it got worse. Every time we hung out, our conversations revolved around men she was attracted to, or thought might be attracted to her. Whenever I try to steer the conversation back to something else, she gets irritated, and in the end, I let her keep talking about what she wants to talk about.

She also had a habit of standing me up at our hangouts just because she wanted to see a guy she had barely known for a week, and if it didn鈥檛 go well, it was still my house she would come to rant at. That kind of thing was exhausting. In the end, my breaking point was when she missed my birthday just to go to another state to meet a man for the first time. What pissed me off most was that she expected me just to accept it, and I refused to do that. Good riddance, honestly.

2. 鈥淲hen I Tried to Intervene, He Beat Me Too鈥� 鈥� Eghosa*, 24

In my second year of university, I befriended Teni*, a third-year student, and our friendship was something I truly appreciated, even though some of her actions were something I would attribute to her being a male-centred friend. I don鈥檛 know if it was a trauma thing, but Teni loved to date and spin the block with abusive guys. The more emotionally or physically abusive they were, the more Teni loved them, and this was very concerning because she didn鈥檛 want to hear reason at all. She cut off most of her friends because those ones were trying to tell her that it wasn鈥檛 cute that she kept dating men who disrespected her in every way they could.

Out of fear of her cutting me off, I didn鈥檛 tell her the same thing, but then one summer, when we were out of school, I went to her apartment to find her boyfriend actively beating her, and when I tried to intervene, he beat me too. That was actually the first time someone had ever beaten me in my life, and I ended up at the nearest clinic for that. I thought that the state of our bodies would have been enough to convince Teni to dump the man, so imagine my surprise when weeks after the incident, I opened her story to see her in Dubai with said boy. No one had to tell me to block her immediately.

3. 鈥淪he Would Invite Me to Places to Scope Out Men鈥� 鈥� Jackie*, 28

I thought male-centred friends were a concept that was created by the patriarchy to cause rifts between women until I actually befriended one. I didn鈥檛 even notice that she was male-centred until she would do this thing where she would invite me to places so that she could scope out men. I didn鈥檛 even mind because in my head, nothing matters as long as I鈥檓 hanging out with my friend, but it became really annoying when she would barely pay attention to our conversations at those hangouts, just because she was focused on a guy who caught her attention.

It even became more annoying when she would get really mad at me if the guy showed interest in me instead. It didn鈥檛 even make sense to me because I鈥檓 a lesbian, and she was aware, so I didn鈥檛 understand why she would become pissy and give me silent treatment for weeks. For months, I did my best to understand her, but then, after another bout of silent treatment, I realised that if our situations were reversed, I would never do that to her, so I cut her off.

4. 鈥淪he Took Out Our Savings Money For Her Boyfriend鈥� 鈥� Alia*, 40

My ex-friend and I had a really big plan to own any kind of business together, so right from the time we decided, we would be saving little by little. This was going well until she got herself a new boyfriend, and it was like her entire brain rewired. I didn鈥檛 mind the fact that she had a boyfriend, but she stepped up to this level of male-centeredness that I鈥檇 never seen in my life. She had always been, but that was concerning. She began to forget herself, her hopes, and her dreams just to satisfy him, so to speak.

Around three months after she started dating the guy, she stopped saving for the business, and I actually didn鈥檛 mind because, honestly, I thought she was just short on cash. What I didn鈥檛 know was that she was giving her boyfriend all her money.

One day, I received a debit alert from the account we鈥檇 both been saving in and saw that 80% of the money had been taken out. We both had access to the account, so the first thing I did was call her to ask what was going on. In a very casual tone, she told me that she鈥檇 withdrawn the money because her boyfriend needed it desperately, and she had no other option. After she said that, I hung up the phone and refused to see her for weeks. I do not mind her taking out the money, but she didn鈥檛 even ask for my permission. She just woke up one day and decided to because of her boyfriend. That鈥檚 not acceptable.

5. 鈥淪he Told Him I Was Talking to Him for His Money鈥� 鈥� Ola*, 25

My friend, Ama*, exposed her male-centeredness by going behind her friends鈥� backs to talk shit about them to their prospective talking stages or situationships so that she could be the one having a thing with them. Even though we usually joked that all of us were unlucky in love, except Ama, because of the talking stages that randomly ghost us, we didn鈥檛 think that she was actively stealing our talking stages鈥� contact numbers to sabotage us. We didn鈥檛 even really find it suspicious that she would go on dates and not show us her date鈥檚 pictures because we always just believed that she鈥檚 a really private person.

It wasn鈥檛 until one day that our other friend got sent a picture of her former situationship with Ama on a date before we all realised. I even tried to be rational and argued that maybe Ama didn鈥檛 know, but then I messaged an ex in a talking stage and asked why he ghosted me. He said he hadn鈥檛 planned on doing that until Ama told me that I was talking to other men, and I just wanted to talk to him for his money.

The other girls also began messaging the guys who had ghosted them, and all their reasons for ghosting led back to Ama. We didn鈥檛 even have a loud confrontation with her; we just sent screenshots of the guys admitting that Ama told them one thing or another to our group chat and tagged her. After she did that, we collectively blocked her and avoided her anytime we saw her.

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6. 鈥淪he Would Joke at My Expense Just to Amuse Men鈥� 鈥� Amirah*, 35

My former best friend was every definition of male-centred. She鈥檚 the kind of person who would come for a hangout just because of the boys who would be there, and I don鈥檛 think I鈥檝e ever had a conversation with her that didn鈥檛 end up leading to a man she fancied.

If men do not approach her at events, she will make it my problem by talking about it throughout our ride home. If men approached her, she would make jokes at my expense just to amuse them, even though I鈥檇 told her over and over again that I didn鈥檛 really appreciate it.

I believe it was when I became uninterested in going on hangouts with her because I knew she would make the experience uncomfortable that I knew I had to end our friendship.

7. 鈥淪omeone Like That Could Kill Us Over a Man鈥� 鈥� Promise*, 49

My former friend had a habit of liking only the men her friends liked. They were never attractive to her until she saw her friend talking to the guy, and then she approached the guy, and because a lot of the women in our friend group weren鈥檛 confrontational, they just thought it was something silly she would grow out of. Unfortunately, it didn鈥檛 stop.

She would even try it with our boyfriends, and there were times when a fight broke out because of her actions. If you asked us why we didn鈥檛 cut her off even when she was doing all that rubbish, we wouldn鈥檛 have an answer. I guess it鈥檚 because we all valued our friendship and didn鈥檛 know how to push anyone out of the circle. It wasn鈥檛 until one of us got married, and she tried to approach that person鈥檚 husband, that we finally decided to have a talk. It was obvious that she didn鈥檛 respect our friendship and just acted selfishly. Someone like that could kill us over a man, and we were not going to risk that. We had to cut her off for our sake.

8. 鈥淲hen She Gets a Boyfriend, It Becomes a 鈥楳y Man, My Man鈥� Affair鈥� 鈥� Cynthia*, 24

Every time my friend started dating someone new, she would disappear for weeks. She would ignore our texts, messages, and requests to hang out simply because she was interested in the person. When she comes back online, she will start talking about this person immediately instead of even apologising for disappearing.

From the moment she gets a boyfriend, it becomes a 鈥榤y man, my man鈥� affair, and God forbid anything happens to her friends during that period, because she will actually not care. When I fell really sick to the point that I was in the hospital for weeks, she didn鈥檛 so much as text or visit because it was at that time she was dating a new guy. I didn鈥檛 even think twice about ending our friendship because I would never do something nasty like that to her.

9. 鈥淪he Didn鈥檛 Believe Her Boyfriend Assaulted Me鈥� 鈥� Ella*, 27

My sister is male-centred in the sense that she always takes the man鈥檚 side. Even if he鈥檚 the one at fault, she would take his side. Our dad was not kind to our mum, and yet she took his side every time his name came up. When her best friend told her about her partner cheating on her, my sister didn鈥檛 even comfort her before asking her what she did to make her partner go out and cheat.

When her boyfriend grabbed my ass, I told her about it in the hopes that she would see that she was dating a creep, but she didn鈥檛 even believe me. She tried to gaslight me, even, and asked why her boyfriend would even want to do something like that to me. She鈥檚 now married to said boyfriend, and although I can鈥檛 cut her off because she鈥檚 family, I鈥檝e taken a huge distance away from her.

10. 鈥淲e Got Chased By a Man鈥檚 Dog as We Were Leaving鈥� 鈥� Tega*, 27

My friend lives to please men. I wish I were exaggerating, but I鈥檓 not. She鈥檚 so male-centred, it鈥檚 infuriating. I give her so much grace because I鈥檝e seen her mother, so I know where she gets that male-centeredness from. I can鈥檛 count how many times she has left us at a club just because a guy was showing interest and she liked it.

I also can鈥檛 count how many times she has called us to come and pick her up from a random stranger鈥檚 house. There was even a time that we got chased by a man鈥檚 dog as we were leaving the house, and I can鈥檛 lie, that was really traumatising. She has put us in a lot of precarious positions because of a man she鈥檚 involved with, and honestly, I am really this close to ending our friendship.

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Virginity can influence how a woman is perceived. Whether she is considered 鈥減ure鈥� or respectable, and, in some communities, even whether she is considered 鈥渨orthy鈥� of marriage. We are taught to protect it, save it, and, in some frankly weird cases, prove that we still have it. All of this rests on the assumption that virginity is a physical condition that exists in the body. Well, news flash, folks, it isn鈥檛.

Virginity is a social construct. Sex is a biological act, but the idea that having sex makes someone go from a 鈥渧irgin鈥� to a 鈥渘on-virgin鈥� is a social distinction we have somehow created and attached meaning to. There is no universal agreement on what counts as losing virginity, either. In many contexts, it is defined as vaginal intercourse, while others include different forms of sexual activity. The boundaries exist only because we have collectively decided they do.

Research on virginity testing makes this even clearer. have found that the hymen cannot reliably reveal whether someone has had sex, despite how often it has been treated as proof of virginity. A of research on virginity testing also found that examining the hymen cannot accurately or reliably establish whether someone has previously had vaginal intercourse.

Yet the belief that a woman鈥檚 body can reveal her sexual history continues to shape how virginity is understood. The idea that an intact hymen proves virginity, or that bleeding after a woman鈥檚 first sexual experience confirms it, has no stable medical basis. These beliefs have survived not because the body provides actual evidence for them, but because we have continued to love the idea of linking cultural and moral significance to the idea of female virginity.

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Let鈥檚 also not ignore the gendered elephant in this conversation. A woman鈥檚 virginity can be presented as something that protects her value, her family鈥檚 honour or her suitability for marriage, while men are often given considerably more passes to have sexual experiences without their character being egged on in the same way. A man with several sexual partners may be described as experienced, but at the same time, a woman with the same history can be labelled with all sorts of derogatory words intended to diminish her. That difference is not biological in any form. It comes from the different expectations we have created for male and female sexuality.

This is why regarding virginity as a social construct is needed. It does not mean that sex is imaginary, that someone鈥檚 first sexual experience cannot be important, or that people should not make personal decisions about when they want to have sex. Someone can choose to remain abstinent until marriage because of their religion, personal values, upbringing or simply because that is what they want. That鈥檚 fine, really. That decision can be meaningful without requiring the belief that virginity is a physical possession that determines one’s worth in life.

The problem begins when a personal value becomes a standard for judging other people. There is a vast difference between saying, 鈥淚 want to wait until marriage before I have sex,鈥� and saying, 鈥淎 woman who has sex before marriage is less respectable.鈥� The first describes a personal choice. The second, however, takes a socially constructed idea and turns it into a measure of someone else鈥檚 character.

We should also question the language of 鈥渓osing鈥� virginity. Sex can be an important experience, and yes, it can change how someone understands themselves or their relationships, but it does not take a physical part of them away. In fact, someone who has had sex has not become less whole or less deserving of love. The idea that they have 鈥渓ost鈥� something valuable comes from this pointless meaning we have assigned to virginity.

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People are free to give their first sexual experience whatever significance it holds for them, but they are equally allowed to reject the idea that virginity should determine their worth. We believe that both positions can exist without contradiction.

The more useful conversation, here, may not be about whether people should value virginity. They can, if that is what they choose. It is about why an idea created by society has been given so much authority over women鈥檚 bodies, sexuality and morality, and why having sex is still treated by many people as something that can reduce a woman鈥檚 value.

Virginity may be a social construct, but the consequences of believing in it are unfortunately very real. Women have been shamed for supposedly losing it and judged according to standards that are hardly, if ever, applied to men in the same way. Recognising that virginity is something society created does not take away anyone鈥檚 right to value it. It simply opens doors to questioning whether something we invented should have the power to define another person鈥檚 worth.

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They reflect on the friendship that became a business partnership, learning how to work together, growing Bawsty without losing sight of the women they created it for, and all the cool things they hope to build next.

This Is Renike and Dami鈥檚 Story As Told To Sofiyah

Before became a clothing brand, Renike already knew what it was like to struggle with clothes because of her body. As a full-busted woman, finding pieces that fit properly was not always straightforward, so when Damilola, her sister-in-law-slash-friend, came to her with an idea for a brand that would make clothes specifically for full-busted women, Renike immediately saw the gap they could fill.

鈥淚 was like, oh s***, this is such a good idea,鈥� she remembers. 鈥淭his means I don鈥檛 have to struggle to wear clothes again.鈥�

Dami had identified a gap in the market, but before Bawsty, fashion had never been a career path she had considered. She had studied architecture, worked in brand identity design and spent years building a career in the creative industry. Renike came from a different relationship with fashion, one shaped more by the experience of trying to find clothes that worked for her body.

Together, they turned Dami鈥檚 idea into , a brand built around making clothes for full-busted women. Almost four years later, they are still figuring out how to grow the company without losing sight of why they started it.

Before Bawsty

Dami grew up in a home where she had plenty of room to explore her interests. Her father, a structural engineer, was the kind of man who encouraged independence, while her mother supported Dami through the different things she wanted to try. Whether it was music or a pillow-making business, Dami鈥檚 mother backed her in every way possible. 

Her mother鈥檚 own life showed Dami that there was no single way for a woman to build her future. She had been a homemaker before returning to work when her children were older, eventually building a career while earning two university degrees. Dami grew up watching her take on different roles at different stages of her life.

Renike鈥檚 childhood, however, was different. Her family went through financial difficulties after her father鈥檚 business suffered, and she had to adjust to a change in circumstances. She also spent part of her childhood in boarding school, which meant becoming independent early. Her mother was a civil servant who also had different side businesses, and Renike grew up watching her balance those responsibilities. The experience gave her an early understanding of work as something that could take different forms depending on what was needed.

By adulthood, both women had already found their paths. Dami had studied architecture before moving into brand identity design, while Renike had built a career as an illustrator and visual artist. Honestly, neither career seemed to point directly toward fashion, but both women had already developed the creative skills and independence that would later shape how they built Bawsty.

Two Different Relationships with Fashion 

Dami had been interested in clothes since she was young. She enjoyed putting outfits together and remembers designing things in her head, including a pair of shoes she once made by cutting up old wedge shoes. It even got to the point where she became her mother and sister鈥檚 go-to person when they needed help deciding what to wear.

Still, she did not necessarily see fashion as a career. She studied architecture because she liked the combination of creativity and analytical thinking, then moved into brand identity design and eventually ran her own creative studio. Fashion remained something she enjoyed personally.

Renike did not grow up with the same interest in fashion. Her experience with clothes became more significant as she got older and began to understand how difficult it could be to find pieces that accommodated her body.

That experience made Dami鈥檚 idea immediately relatable when she brought it to her. Renike could see the problem Dami wanted to solve because she had lived with it herself. What began with Dami identifying an opportunity became something they could both work on.

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From Sisters-in-Law to Business Partners

Dami and Renike first met through Renike鈥檚 brother, who is now Dami鈥檚 husband. Their relationship developed over time as they became part of the same family and gradually got to know each other beyond their roles as sisters-in-law.

By the time Bawsty came along, they had already established a close and beautiful friendship. That gave them a level of familiarity that would become useful when they started working together, but frankly, neither woman believes friendship or family automatically makes someone a good business partner.

For Dami, the more important quality is reasonableness. She knows disagreements are inevitable when two people are building a company together, but both people have to be willing to listen, communicate and work through problems.

Renike views it similarly. Being close to someone can make you more willing to overlook their shortcomings, but that does not necessarily mean the person is right for you professionally. For them, their relationship gave them a foundation to build on, but working together still required them to understand each other in a completely different way.

Learning How to Work Together

When they started Bawsty, their roles developed around their different strengths. Dami took on creative direction and production, drawing on her background in design and branding. Renike focused more on marketing and community, building relationships with the women who interacted with the brand.

Working together has also become a continuous learning process, with each woman picking up vital skills from the other. Renike says Dami taught her how to be firm while still treating people with respect. She has watched Dami handle difficult conversations by taking time to think before responding, something Renike has tried to adopt in her own approach.

Dami says Renike has taught her to pay closer attention to people. She describes Renike as someone who takes a genuine interest in other people鈥檚 lives and celebrates their personal wins. For Dami, that experience has made her more conscious of expressing that kind of care within the business.

Their different approaches do sometimes lead to disagreements. Renike remembers one difficult shoot when she became frustrated with the team, and Dami later called her out for how she handled the situation. They were able to have the conversation, address what had happened and move forward.

For them, disagreement is part of working together. They do not need to see every situation the same way, but they need to be able to challenge each other without damaging the relationship.

Scaling Bawsty 

Bawsty has grown without a large marketing budget. Despite that, demand for the clothes has continued to increase, sometimes faster than they can produce them.

The growth has attracted investors and created opportunities to expand, but Dami and Renike have been deliberate about the kind of growth they want. One of their decisions has been to continue manufacturing in Nigeria despite the difficulties involved, including challenges with fabrics, skilled labour, and production processes.

Dami believes there is value in developing the ability to produce locally rather than relying entirely on manufacturing elsewhere.

As demand increased, they also had to think about what their pricing should look like. When customers complained about products selling out and some people questioned whether the scarcity was intentional, the founders had different instincts about how to respond.

Dami considered increasing prices, while Renike brought the conversation back to the women they had created Bawsty for. They wanted the clothes to remain accessible to women of different incomes, rather than becoming a brand that served only customers who could comfortably pay more.

That conversation reflects one of the choices they have continued to make as Bawsty grows. They want the company to expand, but not at the expense of the women who made the brand what it is.

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The Body Was Never the Problem

At the centre of Bawsty is an idea Dami believes the fashion industry needs to take more seriously: different bodies require clothes that are designed to accommodate them.

鈥淭he body is never the problem,鈥� she says. 鈥淗uman beings come in different body shapes and body sizes. If the clothes are not working, then the clothes are the problem.鈥�

That principle goes beyond creating clothes that technically fit. Bawsty wants full-busted women to have options across their wardrobes, rather than being limited to a small selection of styles designed around their bodies as an afterthought.

For Renike, the experience she wants to create is straightforward. She wants women to put on Bawsty clothes and feel good without spending the day worrying about whether their bodies work with them.

The community around the brand has become part of that experience, too. Customers have supported Bawsty by sharing outfits on their social media platforms, recommending it to other women, and providing the founders with feedback. For a company that has never relied heavily on paid marketing, that relationship has been important to its growth.

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What Comes Next

Dami & Renike have already begun thinking about where else they can take the idea. They have discussed categories including shapewear, lingerie and sportswear, with the possibility of expanding the range of products available to full-busted women.

Renike wants Bawsty to become the brand women think of whenever they need clothes that work for their bodies, from underwear and swimwear to skirts and dresses. She jokes that they want to 鈥渢ake all their money,鈥� but the ambition is to build something that women can return to for more of their wardrobe.

Dami is equally interested in what the company becomes as it grows. She does not want growth to mean losing the closeness between the brand and its community, or turning Bawsty into something that no longer resembles the company they set out to build.

For two people who started with an idea and have spent the last few years figuring out how to turn it into a real business, there is still a lot ahead of them. Yet when asked what they would tell their younger selves, both women look back at the journey in their own way.

Renike says she would tell herself not to be afraid. She would remind herself that she had a good partner and that they would be able to figure things out together.

Dami鈥檚 answer is simpler. When she was asked what she would tell her younger self, she replied with 鈥淲ell done.鈥�

Bawsty began with an idea that Dami brought to Renike after seeing a gap in the market. Renike understood that gap personally, and together they brought different skills to the work of building a company around it. Their friendship existed before the business, but the business has given them another way to understand each other, through the decisions they make, the disagreements they have and the things they have learned from one another.

Almost four years later, the problem that brought them together remains at the brand’s centre. Women have different bodies, and clothes should be made with those differences in mind. For the women behind Bawsty, it comes down to a simple belief: women should not have to change their bodies to fit their clothes. Clothes should be designed to fit them.

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