Episode 1, "The Situationship Economy"

There is a particular kind of Nigerian who will text you every single day for four months, remember your mother's birthday, and still tell you with a straight face that "we are not dating." I have studied this species closely. I have interviewed witnesses. I have, on more than one occasion, been the accused.

Welcome to Naija Dating 101. I am Edgar. I have been single since 2018, which by Nigerian standards makes me either a cautionary tale or a professor. Today we are professors.

Lesson One: Everybody Wants a Relationship, Nobody Wants to Say the Word

In Lagos, in Abuja, in that group chat you are pretending you left, there is a phrase floating around called a "situationship." It means two people are doing everything a couple does. Calling every night. Meeting the friends. Splitting a plate of suya at 1am like it is a covenant. But if you ask either party "so what are we," the room temperature drops ten degrees and somebody suddenly needs to check their phone.

Why does this happen? Because in Nigeria, asking "what are we" is treated like asking for a bank statement. It feels like exposure. Like the moment you name it, you become responsible for it. So people would rather stay in the warm, undefined middle where nobody can accuse them of anything, than say four honest words and risk an honest answer.

Edgar doesn't lie, so let me say the quiet part. Undefined is not peace. Undefined is just delayed disappointment with better lighting.

Lesson Two: The Aunty Timeline Is Not Real Life

You know her. Every family has her. The aunty who, the moment you clock 27, starts asking "so when are we doing the introduction" like she personally has a wedding hall on hold. She means well. She has also never once asked you if the person makes you happy, only if the person is "serious."

Here is the thing nobody tells you early enough. "Serious" in Naija aunty language usually means employed, from a good family, and willing to show up to Christmas. It does not mean kind. It does not mean funny. It does not mean he remembers you hate when people chew loudly. You can build an entire life with someone who ticks every aunty box and still feel like you are sharing a flat with a stranger who pays half the rent.

Let the timeline in your head be yours. Borrowed pressure produces borrowed decisions.

Lesson Three: Red Flags Sound Like Compliments at First

This is the part I wish someone had told 24 year old me. The most dangerous red flags in Nigerian dating do not arrive dressed as red flags. They arrive dressed as romance.

"I don't like you talking to your guy friends" sounds like jealousy, which some people mistake for love. It is actually control wearing cologne.

"I don't do social media, I'm a private person" sounds mysterious, until three months in you realise private also means you have never met a single person from his life.

"You're not like other girls" sounds like a compliment until you notice it usually comes right before he tells you what he expects other girls, and eventually you, to tolerate.

Compliments should make you feel bigger. If a compliment is quietly making your world smaller, that is not affection. That is a leash with better packaging.

Lesson Four: Money Conversations Are Not Unromantic, They Are Overdue

Nigerians will discuss politics, religion, and whether Jollof is better in Lagos or Accra with total confidence, but ask two people who have been "talking" for six months about how they each handle money, and suddenly everybody is shy. We treat financial compatibility like it is rude to bring up, when honestly it ends more relationships quietly than any actual scandal does.

You do not need to know his account balance on the first date. You do need to know, before you build anything permanent, whether you are dating a saver or a spender, someone who sees money as security or someone who sees it as a story for the boys. Those are not small differences. Those are the difference between building a life and constantly renegotiating one.

The Check Edgar Verdict

Naija dating culture is not broken because people are evil. It is stretched thin between old expectations and new freedom, and most people are just improvising in public. The situationship, the aunty pressure, the disguised red flags, the money silence, they all come from the same root. We were never really taught how to be honest about what we want, so we got very good at performing what we think we should want instead.

My advice, for whatever a professionally single man's advice is worth. Say the four honest words earlier. Let the aunty keep her timeline in her own house. Watch what a compliment does to your life, not just to your ego. And talk about money before it becomes the thing that ends everything quietly.

Class dismissed. Check Edgar Out.