If you’ve ever lived off campus in a Nigerian university—especially in the Southwest—you’ll know that off-campus life is where real campus drama unfolds. From roommate quarrels to love stories that end in tears, there’s always something cooking (sometimes literally).
This story from Ile-Ife, Osun State, captures one of the most common but dangerous trends among students — cohabiting. You know, that “couples life” some students live where boyfriend and girlfriend start sharing a room, cooking together, and calling themselves “Mr. and Mrs.” before even collecting their statement of result.
Let’s dive into the story of Tunde and Bimpe — the campus lovers whose fairytale turned into a hard lesson about love, academics, and life.
Meet Tunde and Bimpe: The Perfect Ife Couple
At first glance, Tunde and Bimpe looked like the definition of love goals.
Tunde was a 400-level Political Science student — smart, caring, and hustling on the side. His parents and elder siblings sent him generous allowances every month, the kind of “black tax” that keeps you financially stable on campus.
Bimpe, on the other hand, was a 300-level Accounting student with soft beauty and home training. She had that gentle smile that could melt anger and a knack for cooking that made their tiny off-campus room feel like a home. Together, they built a small world filled with laughter, spaghetti dinners, and shared dreams.
Everyone in the neighborhood admired them. Even the landlord once joked that if he wanted to find Bimpe, he just had to shout Tunde’s name.
But behind the cute moments and matching outfits, cracks were beginning to form.
Love and Academics: A Tough Balance
At first, everything seemed balanced. They studied together, went for night classes hand-in-hand, and even posted couple selfies captioned “my motivation ❤️.”
But as months went by, the lines blurred.
Tunde, in his bid to be the “responsible boyfriend,” started working part-time — typing assignments, printing projects, and selling sneakers online — just to keep their fridge stocked and pay rent.
Soon, the relationship turned into a mini-marriage. Bimpe was cooking, washing, cleaning, and “submitting reports” like a wife. Tunde was playing husband, protector, and provider. But schoolwork? It started to suffer.
Cohabiting is like signing up for adulthood before you’re ready. You spend more time managing emotions and bills than focusing on why you came to campus in the first place.
Then Came Damilola — The Helpful Classmate
When Bimpe began struggling with her accounting courses, Tunde couldn’t help much; Political Science and Accounting are worlds apart. That’s how Damilola, her brilliant and ever-patient classmate, entered the picture.
It started innocently. Group assignments here, tutorials there, then late-night reading sessions in the faculty library. Damilola became her academic savior — and gradually, her emotional comfort zone.
Soon, she was spending more time with Damilola than with Tunde. Her phone was always buzzing, and whenever Tunde asked who it was, she’d say, “Ah, it’s Dami now, he’s helping me revise for Cost Accounting.”
But Tunde wasn’t smiling. Jealousy crept in — silent but deadly.
The Relationship Starts to Crack
Arguments became frequent.
“Bimpe, I thought you said you’d be back by 7?”
“Tunde, abeg, must I explain every move I make? I was reading!”
Their once-warm home turned cold. The couple who used to laugh over dinner now barely talked.
Bimpe felt misunderstood; Tunde felt replaced.
By the end of the semester, Tunde’s grades dropped. He was emotionally exhausted, academically behind, and financially drained. Meanwhile, Bimpe began to shine again, thanks to Damilola’s help and steady encouragement.
The irony? The guy who sacrificed everything for love was losing his footing, while the girl was regaining hers.
Graduation Day: The Great Divide
When final year came, destiny drew a clear line.
Bimpe graduated with her class, smiling in her gown, taking pictures with Damilola by her side. Tunde? He spilled over. One extra year.
The day Bimpe moved out of their shared room was the end of an era. She hugged him, whispered something about “needing to focus on her future,” and left. No fights. No closure. Just silence.
🪖 NYSC Chronicles and a New Beginning
Time passed. Life moved on.
During NYSC, Bimpe and Damilola both found themselves posted to Ogun State (Sagamu camp). Fate clearly wasn’t done with them. Their friendship turned into love, and their love became a new story entirely.
Meanwhile, Tunde was serving in a small village in Ekiti, trying to rebuild his life. He had no bitterness anymore — just quiet lessons learned through pain.
Two years later, Bimpe and Damilola tied the knot. It was a simple but elegant wedding. Their hashtag?
#FromClassroomToAltar
Social media went wild. Pictures everywhere. Smiling faces. Love reborn.
Campus Gossip Never Sleeps
When the news hit Ife, the gossip mill went into overdrive.
“Ah, Bimpe betrayed Tunde o! After all the guy did for her!”
“Na wa o. She used him and dumped him.”
But others argued differently.
“Abeg, who send Tunde message? Why you go dey live with woman for campus?”
“She moved on. Simple and clean.”
Welcome to Naija, where everyone has an opinion on someone else’s heartbreak.
💡 Lessons from Cohabiting on Campus
Tunde and Bimpe’s story isn’t about good or bad people — it’s about youthful choices and misplaced priorities.
Cohabiting might seem romantic — the idea of living with your partner, cooking together, sharing dreams — but on campus, it’s a dangerous distraction. You start living like a couple when you should be living like a student.
Tunde thought he was “building a home,” but he was only building stress.
Bimpe thought she was “being supportive,” but she was losing herself in emotional drama.
Love is beautiful, but when it competes with purpose, it becomes poison.
Campus is for growth, not marriage rehearsals.
Years Later: Different Paths, Same Lessons
Years later, Tunde eventually graduated, got a stable job in Ibadan, and found love again — this time, with a lady he met during a church outreach. He became more mature, focused, and spiritually grounded.
Bimpe and Damilola? Still together. Still happy. Working in Lagos, raising a family, living their best life.
Both moved on. Both learned. And every time I pass that old lodge in Ife, I still remember them — the laughter, the late-night arguments, the smell of fried plantain from their window, and the lessons buried in those memories.
Final Thought: Love Can Wait, Your Degree Cannot
In the end, no one is a villain. Tunde gave love; Bimpe found growth. Both paid their price.
But their story should be a mirror for every Nigerian student:
Love can wait. Your degree cannot.
Cohabiting might feel like maturity, but it’s often just misplaced energy.
You can support each other without living together. You can love deeply without losing focus.
Because as every Naija student knows, “sugar no dey last for hot water.”
So before you say “baby move in with me,” think again.
Your certificate deserves your full attention — the relationship can wait till after convocation.