In Nigeria, the common street language for wooing a woman is “toasting”. Example: “He’s been toasting her for months now” means he’s been trying to gain her love for months. Toasting usually involves a man verbally communicating his desires to the woman. It also often involves giving gifts or making sweet promises. Toasting can be seen as the equivalent term of the UK slang “rizz up”.
A friend of mine once said, “Nigerian men have mad audacity. If you shout ‘audacity’ three times, a Nigerian man will appear”. If you have ever encountered a persistent Nigerian wooer, you will know this is true. Of course, not all Nigerian men are like that, but some can be very overbearing when trying to win a woman over.
There is this insane behaviour that most Nigerian men share when they take up toasting (wooing) a woman till she falls for them as a challenge, paying no attention even if some of their actions bordered on plain harassment.
Let me share my wild encounter with a Nigerian man who couldn’t accept rejection. Before I dive in, I have a strict rule in my dating life: I never date anyone in my neighbourhood because I believe those relationships can easily get messy. Besides, I don’t want my partners to meet my parents until I’m ready, so I avoid dating within my vicinity.
In June 2023, I was home for Eid al-Kabir when I met Ibrahim (real name withheld) in my area. He introduced himself to me and asked for my phone number.
“Hi, I’m Ibrahim,” he said with a confident smile on his face. “Can I get your number?”
“I don’t usually give my number to people I just met,” I said.
“But we’re practically neighbours,” he persisted. “It’s just a number. We can get to know each other.”
I shook my head. “No sorry.”
“Come on!” He took a step closer, almost leaning into me. “Why are you acting like you don’t know me.”
Standing by the road, his persistence growing more uncomfortable by the second, I was starting to feel cornered. I figured it was easier to give him my number than to deal with the growing uneasiness.
“Alright,” I said, handing it over, thinking that I would just ignore him if he ever called or texted.
Hours later, I received a voice note from an unknown number asking when we could meet. When I asked who it was, I found out it was Ibrahim, the guy I had just given my number to. I told him I couldn’t meet and that he should communicate over the chats instead. Even though I ignored his subsequent messages, he continued sending me voice notes, claiming that he needed to see me. However, I had no intention of meeting him.
He kept sending me WhatsApp voice notes, saying that he fell in love with me the first time we met. That’s ridiculous. This man didn’t even know me, so how could he profess love? He then said he wanted to date me because I was “different” from other girls. I find it puzzling when guys think throwing shade at other women is the right way to compliment another. What makes me different, I asked. Well, according to Ibrahim, I’m not like other girls because I’m not after his money. I laughed so hard I nearly fell off my bed. What made him think I don’t like money or that I’m not interested in his money? The irony is, he doesn’t even have money. It’s always the ones with nothing who worry the most about gold diggers.
As days passed, Ibrahim’s messages grew more intense. His absurdity was laughable, but also disturbing. Then he pulled the oldest trick in the book – talking about marriage.
“I see you as my wife,” Ibrahim said, as if that would make me fall into his arms.
“Oh my sweet daddy husband, come to me!” he imagined.
At that point, I knew I needed to shut it down. After ignoring Ibrahim’s messages for a while, I ran into him one evening, and he reeked of alcohol. While I’m not against the consumption of alcohol, I think it should be taken moderately. But Ibrahim smelled really bad, and when he opened his mouth to speak, the stench of it was too heavy I had to take several steps away from him. His words were slurred, and his eyes were reddened. Ibrahim brought up his proposal again, so I told him right there that I could not date him and walked away.
Later that night, he texted me, saying he was drinking because of me. He boasted that everyone has flaws and drinking is his, and he expects me to accept him that way.
I remember he said to me:
“Lots of people drink and take mint sweets afterward. You won’t even know that they’ve been drinking. Do you want me to lie to you? You women like it when men lie to you. Everyone has flaws, so you try to understand mine.”
Long story short, I was scrolling through WhatsApp one day when I noticed that Ibrahim had made my photo his profile picture. This instantly creeped me out because I hadn’t given him the photo in the first place. So I told him to take it down, but this audacious man refused at first. He reluctantly took it down later, and I blocked him on WhatsApp.
Ibrahim then texted me with another number. He warned me not to try blocking him again because he would disturb me with calls and texts until I agreed to date him. The audacity! The unmitigated gall of this man to issue me an ultimatum and try to push me around! I was very angry, so I took the dare and blocked him again.
A few days later, I was out in my neighborhood to buy some things we needed at home. I hadn’t heard from Ibrahim in a while, and I was starting to feel relieved, thinking he had finally gotten the hint. But I should have known better than to underestimate him. Suddenly, I heard someone call my name. I turned around only to spot Ibrahim running towards me.
“What do you want, Ibrahim?” I was shocked and angry at the same time.
He ignored my question, and with a loud, insistent voice, started demanding answers. “Why have you been ignoring me? You blocked my number and won’t answer my messages. What’s going on?”
Passersby started to slow down, casting curious glances our way. I feared that the gossip would soon find its way to my mom and I would have to answer her questions. My stomach twisted. This was exactly the kind of scene I had hoped to avoid.
“Ibrahim, this isn’t the place for this,” I said firmly, trying to keep the situation from going out of control. “You need to leave now.”
“No! I’m not leaving until you talk to me!” he insisted, raising his voice even more. “I have been trying to reach you for days! You can’t just cut me off like this!”
My patience snapped. “I can, and I did,” I said, my voice icy. “I’ve made it very clear that I’m not interested, Ibrahim. You need to respect that.”
His face flushed with frustration. “But you haven’t even given me a chance! I know you feel something for me. Why won’t you just admit it?”
By now, a small crowd had gathered, and I felt a mix of anger and embarrassment. But mostly, I felt done. Done with his persistence, done with his delusions, and done with his utter disregard for my position and wishes.
“I don’t owe you anything,” I snapped again, my voice louder this time. “You don’t get to decide how I feel. I have told you no, and that’s final!”
Luckily, a taxi came, and I jumped in, leaving Ibrahim’s frustrated face in the rearview mirror. After the incident, he began texting me from various unknown numbers, and I kept blocking them. I felt frustrated and decided to confide in my mother. At first, she was upset that I had kept this from her for a while, and then she told me to inform my uncle immediately. So I met with my uncle, and luckily for me, he knew Ibrahim and promised to speak to him and his older brother. After my uncle intervened, Ibrahim didn’t text me for a while, and I thought it was finally over. However, I soon realized that Ibrahim’s harassment was far from over, and his behavior was about to escalate to a whole new level.
Ibrahim started giving my number to strangers, claiming I was his girlfriend who wanted to break up with him because of his drinking habits. These strangers would text me, begging me not to end things with him. I always had to explain that we weren’t together and that Ibrahim simply couldn’t accept rejection.
Some of the people who texted me were polite, while others were rude and weird. One of them even claimed that Ibrahim’s extreme behavior was a sign of his love for me. But I knew the truth – that’s not love, that’s an obsession. Real love respects boundaries and privacy.
Ibrahim thought I was playing hard to get. Perhaps he saw me as a challenge to be conquered and bragged about winning me over to his friends. But the truth was simple: I just didn’t want him. I didn’t like him, and I wanted him to leave me alone! Coercing someone into a relationship is never acceptable and can even be a sign of mental health illness.
Ibrahim’s constant harassment finally pushed me to my limit. After receiving yet another message from a stranger, I snapped. I replied to the guy, making it clear that the only reason he was able to text me was because I had been civil.
“Tell Ibrahim that if any of his friends text me again, I’ll have him arrested,” I warned.
And just like that, the messages stopped. But Ibrahim had one last trick up his sleeve. He called me days later, crying and threatening to end his life if I didn’t accept his proposal. I didn’t bother listening to his emotional manipulation. Instead, I let out all the anger and frustration I have been holding back. I cursed him out so thoroughly that he hung up on me. I called him back and cursed him out again, making sure he knew exactly how I felt. That was the last time I heard from Ibrahim. Perhaps, he finally got the message, or he realized I was never going to play his game. Either way, I was done, and he was gone.
Reflecting on my encounter with my persistent wooer, Ibrahim, I’m still struck by his audacity. He believed he could wear me down and trap me in a toxic relationship. It’s terrifying how some people disregard boundaries, treating “no” as a mere suggestion. This experience taught me that sometimes, the only response to such audacity is a firm stand. You don’t owe anyone your time, affection, or compliance – especially at the cost of your peace and mental well-being.
****
While this is a true-life experience shared by Azeezat Adeniji, she has chosen not to disclose the real name of her toxic admirer.
Azeezat is an English Language student from Nigeria. She enjoys writing, reading and trying new recipes.
