By Prosper Mene
March 26, 2025
Across social media platforms and in hushed conversations at Lagos sit outs , a narrative is gaining momentum: when it comes to ending relationships, women are increasingly seen as wielding a sharper, more decisive edge—and often without a hint of remorse. From high-profile cases to everyday splits, this perception of female ruthlessness in dealing with men post-breakup is sparking debate about gender dynamics, emotional accountability, and the modern breakup playbook.
Take the story of Chika, a 32-year-old tech entrepreneur from Abuja. After five years with her partner, Emeka, she ended things abruptly last month. “I was done,” she says, her tone matter-of-fact. “He kept promising change, but I’d heard it all before. I blocked him everywhere and moved on—no looking back.” Emeka, still reeling, describes her exit as “cold-blooded.” Friends say he’s been a shadow of himself, while Chika’s already planning a solo trip to Zanzibar. Her story isn’t unique—tales of women cutting ties with surgical precision are popping up nationwide, leaving men scrambling to process the fallout.
Psychologists point to shifting dynamics. Dr. Amina Bello, a relationship therapist in Lagos, notes that women today are more likely to prioritize self-preservation over lingering in unfulfilling relationships. “Women are socialized to nurture, but that’s changing,” she explains.
“Many now see staying in a bad relationship as a betrayal of themselves, not just their partner. When they leave, it’s often with clarity and finality—men might interpret that as ruthless because it defies the old script of tearful goodbyes.”
Data backs this up. A recent global study from Humboldt University found women initiate roughly 70% of breakups in heterosexual relationships, often citing unmet emotional needs. Men, the research suggests, suffer greater emotional distress post-split, partly because they lean heavily on partners for support and lack the broader networks women tend to maintain. In Nigeria, where cultural expectations once tethered women to enduring silently, this shift feels seismic. “She didn’t even give me a chance to explain,” says Tunde, a 29-year-old banker from Ibadan, still smarting from a breakup in January. “One day we’re fine, the next she’s gone—no remorse, nothing.”
Social media amplifies these stories. Posts trending online depict women celebrating their post-breakup glow-ups—new hair, new cities, new lives—while exes lament being ghosted or replaced. Critics call it ruthless; others call it liberation. “Why should I owe him my tears?” asks Ify, a 27-year-old influencer from Enugu, who dumped her boyfriend of three years after he cheated. “I grieved privately, then I leveled up. He doesn’t get to dictate my healing.”
Not everyone agrees this is progress. Some men argue it’s a power play—women weaponizing emotional detachment to punish. “It’s like they enjoy seeing us beg,” says Kunle, a 35-year-old engineer whose ex moved on within weeks. Relationship coach Tolu Adebayo counters that what looks like ruthlessness is often survival.
“Women are done carrying the emotional labor alone,” he says. “When they walk away, it’s not about cruelty—it’s about reclaiming agency.”
The fallout? A growing divide. Men report feeling blindsided, grappling with loneliness as women forge ahead. Yet, stories of female remorse do exist—just quieter. “I hurt him, and it haunts me,” admits Lara, a 30-year-old teacher from Port Harcourt, who ended a six-year relationship last year. “But staying would’ve hurt us both more.” Her guilt, though real, didn’t stop her from leaving.
As Nigeria navigates this evolving landscape, one thing’s clear: the breakup game has new rules, and women aren’t apologizing for playing to win. Whether that’s ruthlessness or resilience depends on who’s telling the story.
