Teniola wanted to get married. It was her 2025 Goal—capital G—right there on her vision board, alongside Visit Zanzibar and Apply for scholarships. But unlike the other goals, this one felt heavier, more urgent, like an unfinished assignment she had been carrying for too long. The way she saw it, all the other goals were dependent on this one, which is why it was the first on her vision board. If she got married, she could have her honeymoon in Zanzibar and then start thinking about what scholarships to apply for
She had been on the market for three years now. Meaning: it had been three years since she last had a serious relationship. Dapo. That was his name. The linguist who spoke three languages apart from English and Yoruba. Smart, charming, and just the right amount of woke; or so she had thought. In the beginning, she found his intellectual swagger attractive. But by the time they had clocked one year together, she realized that he wasn’t just smart; he was condescending. The type to correct your grammar mid-argument. The type to say “Actually, that’s a logical fallacy.” The type to drop an imaginary microphone after making a point, like some TED Talk speaker.
Still, he had been great in bed. He didn’t just make love to her with his body, he used words. He used language. French, Spanish, and German, depending on his mood. It was probably why they lasted eighteen months when she should have ended it earlier.
Anyway, old news. Dapo had moved to Europe, married a Lily Collins lookalike, and staged an elaborate proposal in front of the Eiffel Tower (talk about cliche). And no, she hadn’t been stalking him. She had just… stumbled on his Instagram.
Fine. Maybe she had checked his page on purpose. Once.
But that was beside the point. She needed a husband. She was turning thirty-four this year and in her former plan; the one she’d written down when she was twenty, she had expected to be married by twenty-four, have her first kid at twenty- six, her second at twenty-eight and then her last at thirty.
But obviously, life had other plans because she was nowhere near where she thought she would be and frankly she was tired of pretending not to want marriage and the whole shebang.
Her friends – Lara and Eki (or Ekaette), who were also single, had convinced her when she turned thirty-two, that thirty was the new twenty and she should enjoy her baby girl life. She had gone with it for a while, because what choice did she have? She had just escaped Dapo’s exhausting brilliance and was relieved to be single again—free of debates she never won.
But the novelty had worn off.
And just when she decided she was ready to settle down, Eki—loud, wild, unapologetic Eki—announced she was engaged.
To a pastor.
A pastor.
Teni had almost choked on her Chapman when she heard.
The three of them sat in their favorite restaurant, a cozy spot in Victoria Island where they had spent countless Friday nights dissecting their love lives over grilled catfish and small chops.
“I still can’t believe it,” Lara said, shaking her head. “Eki. Engaged. To a pastor.”
It was all like a dream, Teniola thought. How had Eki ended up with a Pastor when she couldn’t find a decent man in this Lagos?
“So you’re going to be mummy G.O?” Lara asked.
“Abeg o, he’s not a pastor like that. He is a youth pastor and serves with the welcome team,” Eki rolled her eyes.
Lara leaned in dramatically. “But still. You? Married to a man of God? No more unholy behavior?”
Ah yes, that was the thing about Eki, she was a maniac about sex. Talk about a woman with a healthy libido, she was one. Teni had never told her, but Eki had been the one who made her begin to think positively about her sexual preferences, and even her body. Eki had a good relationship with her body, she had been raised in a female-dominated home – five girls and their mother who had taught them about what it meant to be female in this world. As Eki often said, there was nothing shameful about a woman’s body or her sexual identity.
Eki grinned. “I know what you’re really asking.”
Teni raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“We’re waiting.”
Lara nearly fell off her chair. “You’re what?”
“Waiting,” Eki repeated. “Should I spell it? W-A-I—”
“Stop jor,” Teni cut in. “You? Ekaette? The woman who once said ‘sex is a spiritual experience’?”
Eki sighed, stirring her Chapman with her straw. “Ladies, this is my man. And he wants us to wait. And I’m on board.”
Lara clutched her chest. “Who are you, and what have you done with my friend?”
Teni watched Eki carefully. There was something… different about her. Not just the engagement ring, not just the pastor. She looked settled. Like someone who had stopped running.
Then Lara voiced what they were all thinking.
“But wait o. This your pastor… he left all the good Christian sisters in church to come and find you?”
There was something sharp in her voice, something bordering on jealousy. And Teni felt it too. Because in their trio, Eki had been their leader; the one who made singlehood feel powerful. Now, she was leaving them behind. What would happen to their Friday night rants? Their ‘men are scum’ jokes?
Eki shrugged. “God works in mysterious ways.”
Teni sighed. Eki was beginning to annoy her.
“Maybe we should come and sow seed to you so you will tell us how you did it,” she snapped. “Because you’re not married yet and you’re already acting all high and mighty.”
“Seriously,” Lara agreed, crossing her arms.
Eki sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ll tell you something, but promise not to judge.”
They leaned in.
Eki hesitated, then said, “So…I’ve been feeling different lately. Like I wanted more from life. I was getting tired. Of the casual thing. Of meaningless hookups. I mean yes, I was having a good time with the random men I met, but it stopped being enough. I would leave a guy’s house feeling emptier than when I went in. But then I would want to fill that emptiness with another guy because I kept hoping that the next guy would be the right one to do just that. But it kept on going. And then it hit me one day: I’m thirty-four! I can’t keep crawling in and out of different men’s beds. How long will that continue? When am I going to have something lasting? Build something different? I realised I wanted more. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I knew I needed answers.”
Teni raised an eyebrow. “And?”
Eki exhaled. “So… I went to a psychic.”
Lara and Teni gasped in unison.
“You did WHAT?!”
