On any given Weekend in Nigeria, the air is thick with the scent of party jollof and the rustle of expensive Aso-Ebi. We are a nation obsessed with marriage. We celebrate the union, the merger of families, and the divine mandate of settling down. But once the canopy is folded and the last guest has taken their souvenir, a quieter, more complex reality sets in.
In recent years, friction has developed both offline and online. Nigerian women are increasingly questioning the fine print of the marriage contract. The conversation is no longer just about how to get married, but why we do it—and more importantly, who it actually serves.
To understand where we are, we have to look at where we started.
Marriage In The Past: Survival Over Soulmates
Historically, in most Nigerian cultures and beyond, marriage was never a romantic endeavor; it was a socio-economic one. It was a diplomatic tool used to cement alliances between clans, secure land rights, and ensure the survival of a lineage.
In a strictly agrarian society, more children meant more hands in the field. Marriage was the factory of the workforce. For the woman, marriage was her only access to social protection and economic resource. To be unmarried was to be a person without a legal or social place.
In this historical context, marriage served the Community and the Patriarchal Lineage. It wasn’t really about the woman’s happiness; it was about her utility.
The Modern Shift
Fast forward to the 2000s. We are told marriage is about romance, companionship and soulmates. Yet, the legal and social structures of the institution remain stubbornly rooted in the past.
While women now enter the workforce and contribute financially, the domestic expectations remain largely lopsided. We see the “Double Burden”: the Nigerian woman who works a 9-to-5, contributes to the rent, but is still expected to be the primary chef, cleaner, and caregiver, all while maintaining the “respectability” of her husband’s name.
So, we have to ask: If women are now providing their own “survival” (money, shelter, food), what is the return on investment in marriage?
Perspectives from the Field
To dig deeper, The 21 Magazine spoke to 5 women at different stages of the journey to understand how they view the “profit” of marriage.
1. Mrs. Adeola, 62, Fashion Designer, Married for 33 years.
I often tell my daughters that they look at marriage like a movie. For my generation, marriage was about cover. At the risk of sounding cliche, a husband is truly a woman’s crown. In many ways, my Husband is my protector. In Nigeria, a woman without a husband is often treated like a child. You want to rent an apartment? They ask for your husband. You want to lead in the church? They ask for your husband. Who does marriage benefit? In this society, it benefits the woman’s social standing. Whether there is love or not (because as a young girl, I told myself that nothing will make me unhappy in my husband’s house,) that ‘Mrs.’ is a shield and I can testify it has protected me so many times
2. Janet*, 28, Business Owner, Married for 3 years.
If you marry only for love, you will end up resentful and I am saying this as someone who is well taken care of by their husband. I don’t think men are socialized to think about marriage the way women are. And if you enter marriage thinking your man is your soulmate, you will be disappointed at a point. Let there be love, but ask yourself other questions like: can he provide me with a stable life? Will he be a great dad to my children? Will he be financially present? Marriage and what comes with it, especially having kids, is a big sacrifice for women in so many untold ways I can’t even explain—you just have to experience it yourself to know. So if you are getting married, the least you can do for yourself as a woman is to pick the best partner possible, else, just stay by yourself.
3. Amara, 31, Corporate Worker, Unmarried
Statistically, across the globe, married men are generally healthier, wealthier, and live longer than single men. For women, the data is reversed. Unmarried, childless women are often reported as the happiest demographic. Why? Because the Marriage Premium, that is the boost in status and well-being, is real for men. They get a domestic manager. A child bearer. A nanny. A sex worker. A therapist. It goes on and on. For the Nigerian woman, marriage is often a tax. Wives pay with their time and often their identity. However, we must also acknowledge that for many women in lower-income brackets, marriage remains a crucial survival strategy.
4. Kendo*, 32, Consultant, Engaged.
I honestly hate the transactional tone people use when they talk about marriage lately—this idea of ‘who is gaining more’ or ‘who is losing.’ To me, marriage isn’t a business deal, it’s a companionship. My fiancé and I are a team, a family unit. Our common goal is to build a life of ease and happiness together.
Life in Nigeria is hard enough; why should my relationship be a ledger of who did what? Sometimes I’ll give 80% because he’s down, and sometimes he’ll give 100% because I’m overwhelmed. It’s not about who benefits, it’s about the fact that we are both better off because we have each other to lean on.
5. Diana*, 26, Architect, Unmarried by Choice.
I won’t be participating in marriage because I’ve seen what it does to the women around me and you probably have too—quickly, gun to your head name 5 women you know who are happily married?
Marriage is designed to strip women of their identity. It starts with the bride price discourse and then you’re expected to drop your name for his. Then comes childbearing, where your body becomes public property, and the endless emotional labor because women are socialized to be ‘selfless.’ I don’t want to be selfless; I want to be a whole person. I refuse to enter a contract where the prerequisite is my disappearance.
The Unspoken Beneficiary: The State
While we argue about husbands and wives, we often overlook the biggest beneficiary of marriage: The State and Society.
Marriage is a brilliant way to outsource welfare. When people are married, the government doesn’t have to worry about childcare, eldercare, or social support—the “family” (usually the woman) handles it for free. By keeping marriage as the only “respectable” way to live, society ensures that the burden of care remains private rather than a public expense. This is why in many developing countries a lot of people have children mainly so that they can have someone to rely on as they age.
The Question Left Hanging
In the modern Nigerian context, marriage is undergoing a silent reformation. We are seeing more soft life discourse, more pre-nuptial conversations about domestic labor, and more women choosing to remain single if the “deal” isn’t fair.
But we are also seeing men who provide emotional labor and women who find genuine partnership and joy in the union.
So, who does it really serve?
If you are a man, it might serve your health, your career, and your legacy.
If you are a woman, it might serve your social safety, your desire for family, and your standing in a conservative culture.
If you are the state, it serves your budget.
But as we move forward, perhaps the question shouldn’t be “Who does marriage serve?” but rather, “Is the current structure of marriage capable of serving two equal people?”
Until we can answer that, the Nigerian wedding will remain a grand celebration of a contract that many of us are still trying to learn how to read.
What do you think? Does marriage still offer a fair exchange for the modern Nigerian woman?
