There was a time when love was spontaneous, when you could show up at your partner’s house unannounced, holding a box of pizza and your heart in your hands. You’d knock, they’d open the door, and just like that, romance happened.
But then came Nigerian estates with their overzealous security gates. Now, before you can surprise your babe, you have to schedule an appointment, get security clearance, and sometimes even submit your BVN.
Romance in Nigeria now comes with a checklist:
1. Show up at the estate gate.
2. Security asks, “Who are you here to see?”
3. You call babe to call the gatehouse and confirm your existence.
4. Babe has to mention your name and describe you like you’re applying for a visa.
And what if babe isn’t picking up?
You’re now standing at the gate like a suspect being interrogated. The gateman is eyeing you like you came to rob the estate. Worst of all, the love of your life might just text later, “Sorry, I was sleeping.”
By then, your surprise visit has turned into a shame walk back home.
Gone are the days of showing up with flowers to apologize for a fight. Now, you need to call ahead to be added to the security list, send your license plate number because babe’s estate has tech-savvy security
By the time you’re let in, you’ve had so much time to rethink your relationship that you’re no longer sure if you came to surprise babe or to end things.
Romance is supposed to be effortless, but Nigerian estates said “not on my watch.”
Want to bring breakfast in bed? Better call first. Planning a surprise birthday party? Better just confess to the surprisee. Trying to rekindle the spark? Spark up your phone first because that gate isn’t opening without a confirmation code.
Back in the day, the ultimate move was to act like you were just “passing by.” It didn’t matter if you lived three states away, you’d claim you were in the neighborhood and decided to stop by. Now? Try that nonsense in those Lekki Court Orchid Valley Peninsula estates.
By the time babe comes down to “authorize your entry,” the surprise is dead and the pizza is cold.
Imagine showing up unannounced, and the gateman has to call your partner to confirm if they’re expecting you.
“Hello ma, one man dey here say him know you. Make I open gate?”
Now you’re sweating like Christmas goat as you wait for babe to say, “Yes, let him in,” instead of “Who? I don’t know that man. Close the gate.”
Let’s say she tells the gatemen not to let you in, now your relationship problems are now community gist. By the time you’ve tried to beg or call her multiple times, the security guards already know your status has been downgraded to ‘pending approval.’
Fast forward, you’ve settled the fight and returned with your head high, thinking it’s all over. But no, the gateman has follow-up questions.
“Oga, how far? You and madam don settle?”
Suddenly, he’s smiling and saying, “I talk am say una no fit break up. Love dey!”
The worst part? If you fight again, they’ll already be watching closely. Next time you pull up and babe doesn’t answer your calls, they’ll be whispering to each other: “She go allow am enter this time? Abi another episode?”
You’ve been claiming him proudly on social media, or soft launching with picture of his fingers and nose garnished with captions like “My peace. My home.”
But you didn’t know the real test of love wasn’t in holding hands, it was in entering his estate.
One day, you decide to spice things up and surprise him with a visit. After all, love should be spontaneous, right? You get to the estate gate in your uber, feeling yourself. You even smile at the security men as you say, “I’m here to see my man”
“Ma, do you have the access code?”
Access what? Nobody gave you any code. You blink. Smile nervously. Dial babe’s number. No answer.
You try again. Still no answer.
The security men are now eyeing you suspiciously.
They cough, the kind of cough that says, “We’ve seen this movie before.”
Finally, babe calls back, but instead of joy, you hear “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
The security men are still there, pretending to check their logbook, but you can tell they are listening and already picking sides.
By the time babe reluctantly sends the code, the surprise visit already feels like a crime scene investigation.
The Moral of the Story?
Nigerian estates have one job: to protect the residents, and sometimes, that means protecting them from surprise visits that expose secrets.
