There was a time when love, at least in theory, was allowed to exist on its own. Not in a vacuum, of course, but without the constant negotiation that now seems to sit at the centre of modern relationships. Today, money has moved from being a background factor to something far more central, almost like a third party in the relationship. Present, influential, and impossible to ignore.
You feel it in conversations that used to be light. You hear it in the way people ask questions that sound innocent but aren’t. “What do you do?” now carries more weight than curiosity. “Where do you live?” isn’t just about location. Even “what are your plans?” has quietly become a financial audit in disguise.
It’s not entirely surprising. The economy has made sure of that.
With inflation biting, rent climbing, and the cost of simply existing feeling like a full-time job, love has had to adjust. People are not just dating for companionship anymore; they’re dating with strategy. Not always consciously, but definitely intentionally.
A 2024 report by Nigeria’s National Bureau of Statistics showed inflation hovering above 30%, with food inflation even higher. In real terms, this means that the everyday pressure to survive has seeped into how people choose partners. Stability is no longer attractive; it’s essential.
And so, quietly, love has become… negotiated.
Not in a cynical, “nobody cares about feelings” kind of way, but in a practical, “can we actually survive together?” sense.
“I can’t afford to date potential anymore,” a 32-year-old marketing executive said recently. “I need to see direction. Not just vibes.”
It’s a sentence that would have sounded harsh a decade ago. Today, it sounds like common sense.
But here’s where it gets interesting. The conversation around transactional relationships often leans heavily in one direction, usually pointing fingers at women. The “soft life” narrative, the rise of visible luxury, the normalisation of “being taken care of”, all of it has fed into the idea that women are increasingly dating for financial gain.
There is some truth to that. The sugar daddy phenomenon is no longer whispered about. It’s out in the open, sometimes even glamorised. Social media hasn’t helped. If anything, it has turned certain lifestyles into benchmarks.
But that’s only half the story.
Because men, too, are dating with expectations.
Quiet ones, sometimes. Strategic ones, often.
There’s a growing number of men who openly admit they want women who are financially stable, not necessarily to fund them, but to reduce pressure. A partner who can “hold her own” is no longer a bonus; it’s becoming a requirement.
Then there’s the more subtle version. Men who are looking beyond money, but still looking to gain something, such as connections, access, migration opportunities, and social positioning. A woman with the right passport, the right network, the right family background. Love, yes. But also leverage.
It’s not always opportunistic. Sometimes, it’s just survival dressed as preference.
A 29-year-old tech professional put it plainly: “It’s not that I want to use anyone. But if I’m going to commit, it has to make sense across the board. Emotionally and practically.”
Across the board. That phrase might be the most accurate way to describe dating right now. Everything is being evaluated. Feelings are still there, but they are being weighed against logistics.
And this is where things start to get complicated.
Because when both sides are quietly negotiating, when both are asking, “What does this relationship add to my life?” something shifts. The ease of love becomes harder to access. The spontaneity disappears. You start to feel like you’re constantly proving value, not just building connections.
For young men, especially, the pressure is intense.
There’s the expectation to provide, which hasn’t gone anywhere, even as economic realities have changed. A man might be earning decently and still feel like he’s falling short. Dates are more expensive. Expectations are higher. Social media has created a standard that doesn’t always match real life.
“I feel like I have to be ahead before I can even start dating seriously,” one 27-year-old said. “And the goalpost keeps moving.”
On the other side, women are navigating their own version of pressure. The desire for security is real, especially in a country where systems don’t always catch you if you fall. Independence is celebrated, yes, but so is being “taken care of.” Sometimes by the same people, in the same breath.
So women are asking: if I’m bringing emotional support, stability, and partnership, what am I getting in return?
It’s not greed. It’s calculation.
And in the middle of all of this, marriages are feeling the strain.
Weddings are still happening, big ones, small ones, everything in between, but behind the aesthetics, there’s a quiet tension. The cost of starting a life together is higher than ever. Rent, school fees, healthcare, family obligations. It adds up quickly.
Some couples are scaling down, choosing intimacy over spectacle. Others are going the opposite direction, stretching themselves financially to meet societal expectations. Debt has entered the chat, and not politely.
And once the wedding is over, reality sets in.
Money disagreements remain one of the leading causes of marital conflict globally, and Nigeria is no exception. The difference now is that these conversations are starting earlier, sometimes even before commitment. People are asking harder questions upfront, which is both a good thing and a slightly exhausting one.
So where does that leave love?
Somewhere in between.
It hasn’t disappeared. It’s just… evolved.
People still want connection. They still want companionship, laughter, and intimacy. But they also want security, growth, and alignment. And increasingly, they want all of it at the same time.
Maybe that’s the real shift. Not that love has become transactional, but that it has become layered.
There’s romance, yes. But there’s also reality.
And perhaps the more honest question isn’t whether love is transactional, but whether it has always been just in quieter, less obvious ways.
After all, people have always chosen partners based on something. Family, status, stability, proximity. The difference now is that the filters are sharper, and the stakes feel higher.
So we’re all a little more careful. A little more aware. A little more strategic.
Does it make love less genuine?
Not necessarily.
But it does make it more intentional.
And maybe that’s not entirely a bad thing.
Still, there’s a fine line between intention and calculation. Between choosing wisely and choosing only what benefits you. Cross that line too often, and relationships start to feel like negotiations instead of connections.
Nobody wants to feel like a transaction. Even in a transactional world.
So perhaps the real challenge for the Nigerian couple today is not to remove money from the conversation, that’s unrealistic, but to stop letting it lead the conversation entirely.
To remember that while money can sustain a relationship, it cannot carry one. And if it ever gets to that point where everything is measured, weighed, and priced then you’re not really in love.
You’re just… making a deal.
And deals, as we all know, are only as good as the fine print.
