I was minding my business on Instagram few weeks back, doing the usual 11:00 pm scroll, when I came across a post from a celebrity. She was standing next to a gleaming, brand-new SUV, ribbons and all. Her caption was simple, empowering, and honestly refreshing, something along the line of: “Gifts from me to me. Hard work pays off.”
I smiled, tapped the heart icon, and was about to move on when curiosity (read: the urge for a little gbeborun) led me to the comments. Amidst the “Congratulations, Queen” and “More wins” messages, one comment stopped me cold.
“She no do good oh,” a user wrote. “She would have told us that her husband bought the car for her. “
Wait. What?
In 2026, why is there a growing, silent trend of women buying themselves the luxury life but letting their male partners take the credit?
Welcome to the era of Performative Provision, where the only thing more valuable than a new car is the lie that a man bought it for you.
The Odogwu Currency
In Nigeria, the ‘Provider’ script is an old classic. For generations, patriarchal norms have cast the man as the financial powerhouse and the woman as the supporting act, whose income is usually dismissed as handbag money—nice for the small stuff, but never the main event. But between inflation and the rising cost of living, that old-school dynamic is cracking. Out of sheer necessity, we’re seeing a shift. The modern Nigerian couple is moving toward a true partnership: one where financial burdens and household chores are shared, even if we aren’t always ready to admit it out loud.
While some couples forge towards equality, the provider script remains a social currency for many others. Our culture worships the Odogwu—the big spender, the provider, the man who “spoils” his woman. On TikTok and Instagram, the #SoftLife tag is dominated by thousands of videos of bouquets stuffed with dollar bills, surprise car deliveries, and luxury vacations.
But there’s a darker side to this aesthetic. For many women, being “taken care of” has become the ultimate validation of their worth as a partner. If your man isn’t buying you a house or a Birkin, social media suggests you’re settling.
This pressure has birthed a bizarre phenomenon, what I would like to call: The Provider Paradox. Women are spending their own hard-earned millions on cars, jewelry, and designer bags, then crafting elaborate captions about how their “King” surprised them. I just don’t get it.
“Girl, I have seen it happen with my own eyes,” says Tolu*, a 26-year-old digital marketer in Lagos. “A friend of mine saved for two years to buy a used Lexus. When it finally came, she made us film a ‘surprise’ video where her husband handed her the keys. Some of my friends said that maybe he gave her money she never told us about, but I am very sure this man didn’t contribute a kobo because she would have been loud about it, that’s just who she is”
The Fear of Being “Too Much”
Perhaps women lie that they are with ‘provider men’ because they view their own success and financial capacity as a threat to their “marriageability.” We hear it quite often, older people advising women to slow down with their careers, to refrain from getting another degree, so that they don’t scare away potential suitors. So, despite our degrees and our thriving businesses, it makes sense that many of us are still haunted by the old-school narrative that a man needs to feel like the primary provider to stay interested. We’ve internalized that being “too independent” makes us “hard” or “unsubmissive.”
By attributing our purchases to our partners, we are essentially performing a “traditional” role to keep the peace and acknowledge our male partners as the head. If people think the man provided the car, he keeps his ego, the woman keeps her “protected” status, and the society keeps its status quo.
But at what cost?
The Price Of These Lies
When we lie about who paid for the lifestyle, we aren’t just protecting a partner’s ego, we are also poisoning the well for every other woman that admires us.
Think about the 17-year-old girl scrolling through her feed, seeing her favorite influencer get a Range Rover “from bae.” She looks at her own hard-working boyfriend and feels resentment because he can’t match that standard. She doesn’t know that the influencer actually ran three businesses and took out a loan to afford that car.
By hiding our labor, we make success look like a fairy tale rather than a grind. We sell the idea that a woman’s luxury should be a gift, not a goal. This creates an impossible standard for men and a sense of inadequacy for women who aren’t being “spoiled” at that level. Worse, it teaches girls to give up on themselves in terms of attaining wealth, believing that proximity to a ‘rich man’ will be what makes them rich. When we attribute our success to a “mystery man” or a partner, we are erasing our own stories. We are saying that our work—the sleepless nights, the business meetings, the financial discipline—doesn’t matter as much as the narrative of being “chosen” by a wealthy provider.
If you are the architect of your own life. Why would you want to hand that trophy to someone else?
Reclaiming the Narrative
It’s time to kill the “Provider Lie.”
There is absolutely nothing wrong with having a partner who provides. If he buys you a car, let us celebrate with you! But there is something deeply wrong with feeling like you must have a provider to be valid.
If you bought the car, say it with your chest. If you paid for the trip to Zanzibar, own that itinerary. We need to normalize the image of the African woman who can afford her own luxury. We need to show the next generation that while a partner’s love is beautiful, your own bank account is a powerful form of freedom.
To the celebrity who posted her own car: Thank you for the honesty. To the commenters telling her to lie: It’s time to update your thinking. Your success isn’t a weapon against your relationship, if anything it’s a testament to your power and freedom despite being partnered with a man—a supportive male partner that lets you grind in your lane is a luxury women from the past wish they had. The women who writes her checks should be celebrated.
