Last week, Afrobeats superstar Tiwa Savage stirred the internet with frank commentary about her evolving romantic standards. During a recent interview, the singer, long celebrated as one of the genre’s most influential female voices, stated that she is no longer interested in dating men who earn less than she does. “That was the mistake I used to make… I think I need someone that just has money. I think I’m at that point now,” she said.
The reaction online was instant and intense. On X (formerly Twitter), users debated whether Tiwa Savage was simply speaking honestly about her needs or sending younger women down a misguided path.
“Why do older women enjoy giving younger girls terrible relationship advice?” one commenter asked. Another declared Nigeria “a nation of shameless women serving as role models”, pointing out the questionable values being projected to a new generation.
Public uproar is hardly new in the social media age, but few anticipated Savage’s follow-up. Appearing on another interview with Apple Music just days later, she doubled down: “I am still looking for someone’s son and I’d prefer someone that has a private plane and doesn’t have baby mama dramas.”
It was a quote tailor-made for viral reaction, lofty, blunt, and sharply aspirational. Ironically, some fans noted that Savage herself is a mother to one child, a point seized upon by critics who found her expectations hypocritical. Others dismissed the backlash entirely, pointing to a wider shift in the language of love within Nigerian pop culture as a space where romance increasingly comes intertwined with visible displays of wealth.
Indeed, Afrobeats, perhaps more than any other contemporary African genre, continues to blur the lines between affection and affluence. Artists frequently frame desire through material promise rather than emotional connection. Davido’s 2017 hit “If” is often cited as a prime example: “If I tell you say I love you, / My money my body na your own, / Thirty billion for the account…” he sang, fusing declarations of love with the guarantee of high-end reward. Across today’s pop landscape, jewellery, luxury vacations, and expensive handbags have become the love languages of chart-topping musicians and their fictional muses.
Tiwa Savage’s comment fits squarely into that growing aesthetic that celebrates opulence as a prerequisite for emotional partnership. “Private jets” and “no baby mama drama” operate here as shorthand for a particular kind of male success: wealthy, unencumbered, and insulated from scandals. It reflects a broader cultural fascination with hyper-visibility, where love is often measured by what can be seen, posted, or purchased.
Still, the debate her statement fuelled raises uncomfortable questions about standards, hypocrisy, and responsibility. As one of the longest-standing female icons in an industry historically dominated by men, Tiwa Savage occupies a unique space in Afrobeats. She has broken barriers, survived public scrutiny, and rebranded herself multiple times. There is little doubt she has earned the right to decide what kind of partner she wants at this stage of her life and career. Yet the tension lies in her status as a role model. Fair or not, anything she says, especially about womanhood, love, or success, is often received by her fans as a template rather than a personal preference.
In that sense, Savage’s comment pushes forward a cultural discussion about what modern Nigerian women should seek in love, and who gets to define those parameters. Are standards like private jets and clean personal histories exclusionary, or are they the overdue demands of women no longer willing to compromise?
Perhaps the most striking takeaway from the saga is not what Tiwa Savage wants, but that she said it out loud in interviews. In a culture where women are often expected to tread carefully around male ego, Savage’s brazen honesty represents a kind of rebellion. Whether her wish list is achievable remains to be seen. What’s certain, however, is that in today’s Afrobeats ecosystem, romance, like music itself, increasingly dances to the rhythm of money. It’s sad. Very sad.
