Bridal trains and aso-ebi have quietly become the highest form of billing in Nigerian social life. And the worst part? You're expected to smile through all of it, because how dare you put a price on love?

"I am still paying the debt since last year November. I love her o, but I regret it like mad."

That's Naza. Not a woman who hates her best friend. Not bitter or unsupportive. Just a regular Nigerian girl who said yes when her best friend asked her to be a bridesmaid, and has been financially recovering ever since.

And before you say "but it's her best friend's wedding", we know. That's exactly the problem.

Because somewhere between "will you be my bridesmaid?" and the actual wedding day, something shifted. What used to be an honour became an invoice. What used to be a celebration became a financial commitment nobody warned you about, nobody asked if you could afford, and nobody apologised for.

So What Does Being a Bridesmaid Actually Cost?

Let's break it down, because the numbers are actually insane.

Aso-ebi The bride picks a fabric, usually something expensive, because "it's her day" and sends the price to the group chat. In Nigeria, that fabric alone is anywhere from ₦30,000 to ₦350,000, and that's just the material; you still have to sew it. Take it to a tailor, and you're spending another ₦30,000 to ₦150,000 depending on the style. And since everyone's doing corsets and elaborate designs now, forget getting something simple.

Oh, and if you're in the actual bridal train? There's usually a separate outfit for the church ceremony. You're paying for that one, too.

Hair and makeup The bride wants everyone to look "cohesive," which is lovely in theory, but means she's picked the makeup artist and you're paying whatever they charge, whether you like it or not. Professional bridal makeup in Lagos runs between ₦25,000 and ₦80,000. Hair? Anywhere from ₦15,000 if you're doing something basic to ₦350,000 if you're getting a wig install, or anything intricate, and even if she doesn't pick a specific style, you still have to look good.&nbsp;

Transportation If the wedding's in your city, you're lucky, sort of. Maybe the bride wants everyone at the same hotel the night before. Sometimes she pays, sometimes she doesn't. Or you're coming from your house, which means booking a ride because you're not showing up looking like you trekked. That's ₦10,000 to ₦50,000 depending on location.

But if your friend is getting married in her village or another city? Now you're booking flights or taking a commercial vehicle. Lagos to Enugu, Lagos to Abuja, wherever she is, that's ₦30,000 to ₦200,000, sometimes more if you're booking last minute. Add accommodation because you're definitely staying overnight, and that's another ₦50,000 to ₦150,000. The bill is always on you.

Bridal shower This one is supposed to be the bride's thing, but somehow we have made it a compulsory "surprise" that the bride absolutely knows is happening. She'll open the group chat, drop hints about what she likes, then conveniently leave so you can "plan." Venue, decorations, food, drinks, games, a "Bride to Be" sash, matching robes for photos that'll live on Instagram for two days max. Split between the bridal train, you're paying ₦10,000 to ₦50,000 per person. More if she has expensive tastes.

Gift After all that spending, you still need to bring a gift. Something that somehow always includes an expensive household item because apparently nothing says "I love you" like buying things for her marital home with money you don't have.SprayingThis one's uniquely Nigerian and uniquely painful. At the wedding, you're expected to spray money. On the couple, on the parents, on whoever takes the mic and dances towards you. You can't just stand there empty-handed; everyone's watching. So you pull out the crisp notes you've been saving and throw them in the air whilst smiling like your account balance isn't screaming.

Add it all up and being a bridesmaid in Nigeria can easily cost ₦200,000 to ₦800,000. If flights and hotels are involved, you're crossing ₦1 million. For one wedding, of one friend, in one year, you might be asked to do this two or three times.

And nobody, not the bride, not her mum, not the fancy wedding planner, asks if you can actually afford it. It's just assumed you'll figure it out.

"She Never Asked If I Was Okay Financially"

We spoke to several women who've been bridesmaids in the last two years. The stories were different in detail but identical in feeling.

Temi, 28, was a bridesmaid at three weddings in 2024.

&nbsp;"By the third one, I was taking loans. I didn't even tell anyone. I just kept saying yes because these are my people and I didn't want to seem unsupportive."

Chisom, 31, spent over ₦300,000 being a bridesmaid at her cousin's wedding.&nbsp;

"She never once asked if I was okay financially. It was just assumed I would figure it out. And I did, but I'm still figuring it out twelve months later."

"I love my friend. I was happy to be there. But if I'm being honest, I resent the amount of money I spent. And I feel guilty for resenting it, which makes it worse."

That guilt is the secret ingredient. The thing that keeps women from saying no, from pushing back, from admitting the financial ask is unreasonable because you're not just spending money, you're proving your love and if you question the cost, you're questioning the friendship.

Most brides know the ask is excessive but they feel trapped too.

"I knew it was a lot," admits Sola, who got married in 2023. "But everyone expected a certain kind of wedding. My mum, his mum, our families. If I had asked my girls to wear simple dresses, people would have talked. It's like the wedding stopped being about us and became about managing everyone else's expectations."

That's the wedding industrial complex at work. It takes normal human relationships, love, friendship, community, and monetises them. It tells brides their wedding is a reflection of their worth. It tells bridesmaids their presence isn't enough; they have to pay for it too.

In Western contexts, bridesmaid costs are significant but somewhat contained. You buy the dress (one dress), you show up, you celebrate.

In Nigerian, and broader African, wedding culture, the financial expectations are layered, ongoing, and deeply tied to community and identity and missing an event isn't just a scheduling conflict, it's a statement. A social offence. Evidence that you don't really support the bride, don't respect the family, don't understand what it means to show up for your people.

Why do we live in a world where a bride can look at her closest friends, women she loves, women who would do anything for her, and ask them to spend hundreds of thousands of naira without a second thought? And why do those women say yes every single time?

The answer is complicated. It's culture, it’s community. It's the fear of being seen as unsupportive, selfish, or a bad friend. It's the deeply ingrained idea that love is proven through sacrifice, financial or otherwise.

But here's what we know: real friendship doesn't come with a price tag. Real love doesn't require you to go into debt and a wedding that costs your friends their financial stability isn't a celebration but an extraction.

We're not saying don't have a bridal train. We're not saying abolish aso-ebi or skip the bridal shower.

Vanessa, 25, had a completely different experience on her friend Mary's bridal train.

 "Mary paid for our dresses herself. She gave us all gift bags. The only thing I personally spent money on was my makeup and hair, and even for the hair, she asked us to do a simple ponytail, which was very affordable. We decided to throw her a surprise bridal shower because she deserved it. She made it so easy to celebrate her."

That's exactly the point. When a bride takes care of her people, her people show up, not out of obligation, not out of guilt, but out of genuine love and excitement. Mary didn't ask for a lavish bridal shower. She got one anyway, because her girls wanted to give her one.

That's what happens when you treat your bridal train like friends instead of unpaid staff.

So ask your bridesmaids what they can afford before you send the fabric price. Give people the option to opt out without making it weird. Consider covering some costs yourself if your budget allows, after all, they're there for you, not the other way around.

And if you're a bridesmaid who's been asked to spend more than you can afford? It's okay to say so. A friend who guilt-trips you for having financial limits isn't asking you to be her bridesmaid, she's asking you to be her sponsor.

Because at the end of the day, your presence at that wedding is the gift. Everything else is optional.

Being a bridesmaid in Nigeria costs ₦200,000 to over ₦1 million, as well as aso-ebi, flights, makeup, bridal showers, and spraying money. We break down the wedding industrial complex that's billing friendships and why nobody's asking if you can actually afford it.

Sex & Relationships

Being a Bridesmaid Was the Most Expensive Mistake I Ever Made for a Friend


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