The Eighth Woman - Chapter Six
CHAPTER SIX
A Family’s Approval
Adaeze Eze entered Daniel Nwosu's life at a time when he had begun to believe that his first heartbreak had taught him everything he needed to know about relationships.
He was twenty-nine when they met at a friend's wedding in Enugu. Daniel had travelled from Abuja for the occasion, expecting little beyond a pleasant ceremony, a good meal, and an opportunity to reconnect with people he had not seen in months.
Adaeze was seated at the same table as his university friend, Chuka, who introduced them during the reception.
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“This is Daniel,” Chuka said. “One of the most dependable people I know.”
Adaeze smiled. “That sounds like a serious recommendation.”
“It is,” Chuka replied. “If he promises to do something, you can almost forget about it because he will do it.”
Daniel laughed. “You make me sound like a household appliance.”
“An expensive one,” Chuka said.
Adaeze laughed, and the conversation began easily.
She was a pharmacist working in a private hospital. She spoke with confidence, but she was not loud. Her questions were thoughtful, and she seemed genuinely interested in what Daniel did for a living. When he explained that he worked on infrastructure projects, she asked how he handled the pressure of deadlines and the consequences of mistakes.
“People depend on the work being done properly,” he explained. “Sometimes you have to make difficult decisions, but you cannot afford to ignore the details.”
“That's a useful quality,” she said. “Especially when you are dealing with people who think every problem can be solved by talking confidently.”
Daniel smiled.
“You must meet some interesting people at the hospital.”
“You have no idea.”
They continued talking long after the people at their table had moved to the dance floor. Before the evening ended, Adaeze gave him her number.
Daniel returned to Abuja the following morning with something he had not expected from the wedding: a new person he wanted to know better.
Their first few weeks were promising.
Adaeze had an easy sense of humour and a strong sense of responsibility. She cared about her work and took pride in being able to help people. She also had ambitions beyond her current position. She wanted to pursue additional qualifications and eventually establish a pharmaceutical business of her own.
Daniel admired that ambition.
Unlike some people he had dated, she did not appear to be waiting for a man to provide direction for her life. She had her own goals, her own interests, and a clear idea of the future she hoped to build.
They spoke about money, careers, faith, family, and marriage. Their conversations were practical without becoming cold. Daniel felt that he could discuss difficult matters with her without every disagreement becoming a personal contest.
When he told her about Miriam, he did not describe every detail, but he explained that their relationship had ended after a misunderstanding involving messages he had not been able to verify.
Adaeze listened carefully.
“That must have been painful,” she said.
“It was.”
“Do you think it changed the way you trust people?”
Daniel considered the question.
“Perhaps. But I don't want to carry the past into every new relationship.”
“That makes sense,” she replied. “Still, I think people need to understand what happened before they can learn from it.”
He appreciated her response.
For the first time since his breakup with Miriam, Daniel felt comfortable enough to believe that he could begin again without constantly looking over his shoulder.
He did not know that Adaeze's family would soon test his ability to distinguish between a relationship that felt promising and one that could withstand the expectations surrounding it.
Adaeze came from a family that valued education, professional achievement, and social respectability.
Her father, Dr. Eze, had spent much of his career in public service before establishing a private consultancy. Her mother was a retired school administrator who believed that a family's reputation was built through the decisions its children made.
They were not unkind people. They had worked hard to provide their children with opportunities and wanted them to enjoy secure futures.
But their idea of security was closely connected to status.
A respectable career was good. A respectable career accompanied by financial success and influential connections was better.
Daniel first noticed this during a dinner at Adaeze's family home.
Her parents welcomed him politely. Her mother asked about his family, his education, and his work. Her father wanted to know about the projects he managed and the kind of professional advancement he expected over the next few years.
Daniel answered honestly.
He had a stable position and was gradually building his savings. He hoped to advance into senior project management and eventually lead larger infrastructure projects. He had no intention of pretending to be wealthier than he was.
Dr. Eze listened, then asked, “Do you own property in Abuja?”
“Not yet, sir. I am saving toward that.”
“And your business interests?”
“I don't currently operate a business. My work requires considerable attention, and I prefer to focus on doing it well.”
The older man nodded.
“Of course. A man must have plans.”
Daniel could not tell whether the response was approval or disappointment.
Adaeze's mother asked about his parents and siblings, and the conversation moved to other subjects. The evening ended politely, with an invitation to visit again.
On the journey back to his hotel, Adaeze took his hand.
“My father asks a lot of questions,” she said.
“He wants to understand who I am.”
“He can be difficult to impress.”
Daniel smiled.
“I'm not applying for a job.”
She laughed, but the sound faded quickly.
“I know. I just want you to understand that my family has certain expectations.”
“Every family does.”
“Some expectations are stronger than others.”
He looked at her.
“Do you share them?”
Adaeze did not answer immediately.
“I want a good life. I want to be comfortable. I don't want to struggle unnecessarily.”
“Neither do I.”
“But I also know that my parents worry about my future.”
Daniel squeezed her hand.
“We all worry about the future. That doesn't mean we have to know everything before we begin building it.”
She rested her head against the seat.
“I hope you are right.”
At the time, Daniel thought the conversation had settled the matter.
He did not understand that Adaeze was already struggling between the future she wanted and the future her family expected her to choose.
As their relationship deepened, the pressure became more noticeable.
Adaeze's older brother occasionally made comments about Daniel's career. A cousin asked whether he planned to remain an employee for the rest of his life. At family gatherings, relatives discussed the marriages of other young professionals, comparing homes, businesses, and wedding ceremonies.
The comparisons were rarely direct, but Daniel could feel their presence.
One evening, after attending a birthday celebration for Adaeze's aunt, he drove her home in silence.
She eventually turned toward him.
“Are you upset?”
“No.”
“Daniel.”
He sighed.
“I don't understand why your relatives keep asking whether I am wealthy enough to marry you.”
Adaeze looked uncomfortable.
“They are concerned about me.”
“Concern is one thing. Making someone feel as though he must prove his financial worth at every gathering is another.”
“I know they can be insensitive.”
“Then why do you defend it?”
“I'm not defending it.”
“Sometimes it feels as though you are asking me to accept it because they are your family.”
Adaeze folded her hands in her lap.
“I cannot change how everyone thinks.”
“I am not asking you to change everyone. I am asking whether we can make our own decisions.”
She looked out of the window.
“I need time, Daniel.”
He nodded, although the answer disappointed him.
He had hoped she would tell him that their future was something they would determine together. Instead, he felt that the decision remained suspended between her wishes and her family's approval.
Still, he did not want to pressure her.
He remembered how painful it had been when his relationship with Miriam became a struggle over trust. He did not want to repeat the experience by demanding reassurance whenever Adaeze seemed uncertain.
So he tried to be patient.
He worked hard, saved money, and continued developing his career. He avoided boasting about his achievements, but he also found himself thinking more often about how his financial position appeared to other people.
For the first time, he wondered whether being a responsible man was enough if the people around his partner measured responsibility by visible success.
The question followed him longer than he admitted.
Six months into the relationship, Adaeze accompanied Daniel to visit his parents.
His mother welcomed her warmly, serving a meal she had prepared that morning. His father asked about her work and listened as she described her plans for further professional training.
There were no questions about property ownership or business connections.
After lunch, Daniel's mother sat beside Adaeze and spoke to her about the ordinary responsibilities of marriage: understanding one another, managing money carefully, communicating honestly, and respecting the families from which they came without allowing relatives to control every decision.
Adaeze listened respectfully.
Later, while they were preparing to leave, she helped Daniel's mother clear the table. Daniel watched them talking in the kitchen and felt a quiet happiness he had not experienced in a long time.
He could imagine Adaeze becoming part of his family.
On their drive back to Abuja, he told her what he had been thinking.
“I can see us building a home together.”
She smiled, but there was uncertainty behind it.
“I can see that too.”
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Adaeze, you know I would rather you tell me what you are thinking.”
She took a breath.
“My mother asked me a question before we left.”
“What question?”
“She wanted to know whether I was certain about marrying you.”
Daniel kept his eyes on the road.
“What did you tell her?”
“That I care about you.”
“That wasn't what she asked.”
Adaeze looked down.
“I told her I was still thinking about our future.”
The words landed heavily.
Daniel slowed the car as he approached a junction.
“Are you still thinking about whether you want to marry me?”
“Of course I am. Marriage is a serious decision.”
“I agree. But we have been together for six months. We have discussed our goals and our expectations. What is still uncertain?”
“I don't know how to explain it.”
“Try.”
She turned toward him.
“Daniel, I love you. But I don't want to spend my marriage constantly defending my choices to my family. I don't want to feel that I have disappointed them.”
He understood the fear, even if he could not accept the conclusion she seemed to be approaching.
“Then we need to talk about boundaries. We need to decide what kind of relationship we want with our families.”
“And what if they don't accept it?”
“Then we will have to decide how to respond.”
She shook her head.
“You make it sound easy.”
“I don't think it will be easy. I just don't think their approval can be the only thing that determines our future.”
Adaeze said nothing.
Daniel drove on, but the warmth he had felt after visiting his parents had disappeared.
He had begun to understand that Adaeze's family was not simply asking questions about him. Their expectations were becoming part of the decision she had to make about the rest of her life.
And he could not make that decision for her.
The first serious indication that their relationship was in danger came a few weeks later.
Daniel had been invited to attend another family gathering. Adaeze told him that her relatives wanted to discuss her plans for the future, and she hoped he would come.
He agreed.
But on the morning of the event, she called to say that it might be better if he did not attend.
“Why?” he asked.
“My father wants to speak to me privately first.”
“About what?”
“About marriage.”
Daniel was quiet.
“Does he want to speak to you about marrying me?”
“He wants to understand what I intend to do.”
“And you think my presence would make that difficult?”
“I think it might create unnecessary tension.”
He sat down on the edge of his bed.
“Adaeze, if we are serious about marriage, we cannot keep avoiding conversations because someone might disagree.”
“I know.”
“Then what are we doing?”
She began to cry.
“I am trying to make everyone happy.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
There it was—the problem he had been trying not to name.
She wanted him. He believed that. But she also wanted her family's approval, and she had not decided what she would do if those desires came into conflict.
“I don't want you to fight with your family for my sake,” he said gently. “I want you to make a decision you can stand behind.”
“What if I make the wrong decision?”
“Then we will have to live with the consequences. But you cannot build a marriage by allowing other people to make every important choice for you.”
She did not answer.
The gathering went ahead without him.
That evening, Adaeze called and told him that her father had suggested she consider other men whose financial positions and family connections were more established.
Daniel listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he asked one question.
“Do you want to marry me?”
The silence that followed was long enough to tell him that she was struggling to answer.
“I care about you,” she said at last.
He looked down at the floor.
“That isn't what I asked.”
“I know.”
He waited.
“I don't know what to do, Daniel.”
For the first time, he felt himself beginning to withdraw from the relationship emotionally. He still loved her, but he was tired of trying to build a future with someone who could not decide whether she was willing to share the responsibility for it.
He did not end the relationship that night.
Instead, they agreed to meet and talk properly.
But as he put his phone down, Daniel realized that the problem between them was no longer whether her family approved of him.
It was whether Adaeze could choose the life she wanted without waiting for everyone else to approve it first.
And that was a decision he could not make for her.
Chapter Seven continues Daniel and Adaeze’s story, exploring the cost of keeping family peace when two people must decide whether they are ready to build a future together.
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