By Rhoda Godwin, Yenagoa

“Some chapters, however significant and memorable, eventually come to an end.”

Those words from Niger Delta musician and cultural figure Asu Ekiye have opened a deeply personal conversation about marriage, separation and the quiet pain that often happens behind closed doors.

After 28 years of marriage, Ekiye has publicly confirmed that his marriage to Kunemofa Asu has come to an end.

But unlike many celebrity breakups that unfold through accusations, social media exchanges and public confrontations, Ekiye’s statement was noticeably restrained.

He said the decision to dissolve the marriage was not initiated by him.

According to his account, his wife expressed her desire to end the marriage, moved out of their home and subsequently began divorce proceedings.

For about a year, he said, he tried to save the relationship.

He appealed to her, sought reconciliation and made what he described as every reasonable effort to preserve the marriage.

But she remained firm.

Eventually, Ekiye said he had to accept a painful reality: sometimes, one person can desperately want a marriage to survive while the other has already decided to walk away.

And perhaps that is the most painful part of marriage breakdown — you cannot save a marriage alone.

Twenty-eight years reduced to a public announcement

Twenty-eight years is not 28 days.

It represents decades of memories, sacrifices, family responsibilities, celebrations, disagreements, children, friendships, difficult seasons and countless moments that outsiders may never know.

Yet after all those years, a relationship can still reach a point where the people involved decide that continuing together is no longer possible.

Ekiye has chosen not to publicly attack his estranged wife.

Instead, he said he bears no bitterness or ill will and wants to approach this new chapter with “grace, dignity, maturity and respect.”

That response is particularly significant at a time when marital disagreements increasingly become social-media content.

And Ekiye’s story is not happening in isolation

Across Nigeria and beyond, divorce and separation have become increasingly visible conversations.

In 2025, several high-profile Nigerian relationships attracted widespread public attention after separations or marital controversies involving celebrities including 2Baba and Annie Idibia, Frank Edoho and Sandra Onyenucheya, Regina Daniels and Ned Nwoko, and others.

But behind every famous divorce are thousands of ordinary people whose stories never trend online.

Some marriages end because of infidelity.

Some collapse under financial pressure.

Others are destroyed by domestic violence, emotional abuse, prolonged conflict, incompatibility or years of unresolved resentment.

Some couples simply grow apart.

And some stay together for years because of the children, family expectations, religion, finances or fear of what society will say.

Relationship experts have also pointed to rushed marriages, emotional unpreparedness, communication problems, unrealistic expectations and financial stress as some of the factors contributing to marital difficulties.

The numbers around marital breakdown in Nigeria are not always straightforward, and there is no single reliable national statistic that captures every separation and divorce. But the growing visibility of marital disputes is difficult to ignore.

The children are often the forgotten victims

When two adults decide to go their separate ways, they may eventually find peace.

Children may not.

A divorce can mean two homes, changed routines, custody disputes, financial uncertainty and emotional confusion.

The National Human Rights Commission reported 1,303 cases involving children caught between custody battles in the first quarter of 2026, alongside 1,647 cases of child abandonment.

That should remind us that divorce is never simply a matter between two adults when children are involved.

But should every marriage be saved?

This is where the conversation becomes complicated.

Society often tells couples, “Stay together for the children.”

But staying together at all costs is not always the answer.

A home filled with violence, abuse, humiliation or constant hostility can also damage children.

Marriage deserves commitment.

But people also deserve safety, dignity and peace.

The real lesson from Ekiye’s story may therefore not be that divorce is good or bad.

It is that marriage is serious business.

Before saying “I do,” people need to understand the person they are committing to.

They need honest conversations about money, children, family boundaries, faith, career, intimacy, expectations and conflict.

And when problems begin, seeking professional counselling early may be wiser than waiting until resentment has become permanent.

Perhaps the biggest lesson is this:

Not every marriage that ends was a failure.

Some marriages end after people have genuinely tried.

Some relationships simply reach a point where continuing causes more pain than separating.

And sometimes, the most mature thing two people can do is accept that a chapter has ended without destroying each other in the process.

For Asu Ekiye, that chapter lasted 28 years.

Now, he says, it has ended.

There may be questions the public will never get answers to. There may be different perspectives from both sides. But unless the other party chooses to speak, the public should resist the temptation to invent a story around what happened inside a private home.

Because behind every divorce headline are real human beings.

People who once loved each other.

People who once made promises.

People who built memories.

And sometimes, people who simply reached the end of a journey they once believed would last forever.

Maybe the question should not only be, “Why are so many marriages ending?”

Maybe we should also be asking: “How can we prepare people better for marriage before they enter it?”