Every February 14, cities across Africa erupt in red. Supermarkets and flower shops advertise heart-shaped everything. Restaurants offer overpriced dinners. Social media feeds flood with public declarations of love.

On this one day, love is loud, extravagant, and measurable. Men are expected to perform romance as if it exists only for Instagram.

And if they don’t, they are questioned as if their failure to buy roses or chocolates reflects a lack of feeling.

But pause for a moment and think. How did we show love before Valentine became a global spectacle? How did African men, women, and families express affection when it wasn’t dictated by a calendar, a hashtag, or a marketing campaign?

Picture yourself as a young professional. It is not February 14. There are no themed cupcakes, no heart-shaped balloons, no schedules for surprise proposals.

He leaves his apartment early in the morning and heads to work. He checks on his partner’s ongoing project, sending her a message of support, not because it will make a viral post but because he genuinely wants her to succeed. He notices what matters to her and remembers it without prompting.

He defends her in rooms she cannot enter yet and celebrates her accomplishments quietly, without a crowd. Later in the evening, he sits at the dinner table, and they share the small victories of the day.

Love here is not about grand gestures on demand. It is deliberate, consistent, and visible in action, not in performance.

African languages have words for love that do not rely on imported symbols. Among the Yoruba, for instance, ife encompasses romantic, familial, and communal love.

In many African cultures, love has been expressed as loyalty, duty, sacrifice, and respect. Presence mattered more than flowers, and effort mattered more than chocolates.

We have always known that true affection is measured over time, not in moments of performative celebration.

Yet today, love is often reduced to a single day. The question then arises: when did love become something that only exists on a calendar?

The History of Valentine’s Day

Valentine’s Day, as a holiday, did not originate in Africa. Its roots trace back to ancient Rome. In the third century, during the reign of Emperor Claudius II, young soldiers were discouraged from marrying because it was believed that unmarried men made better warriors.

Valentine, who was a priest, was said to have defied this decree by secretly performing marriage ceremonies for couples. For this act, he was arrested and ultimately executed.

His death is traditionally dated to February 14, although the historical details surrounding his life remain uncertain. By the late fifth century, the Church had established February 14 as a feast day in honor of Saint Valentine, though early records do not associate him with romantic love.

The connection between February 14 and romance emerged much later. In the fourteenth century, the English poet Geoffrey Chaucer referenced Saint Valentine’s Day in his poem Parliament of Fowls, linking the date to the idea of birds choosing their mates.

This literary association appears to be one of the earliest recorded links between the feast day and romantic pairing. Over time, the notion of February 14 as a day for courtship gained popularity within European aristocratic and literary circles.

By the eighteenth century in England, exchanging handwritten love notes on Valentine’s Day had become a fashionable custom. The nineteenth century saw the rise of industrial printing technologies, which made it possible to mass-produce decorative Valentine’s cards.

As commercial production expanded, chocolates, flowers, and other gifts became increasingly tied to the celebration. Businesses played a significant role in shaping the modern form of the holiday, turning it into an occasion centered on the exchange of purchasable symbols of affection.

Through colonial influence, global trade, and modern media, Valentine’s Day spread beyond Europe and North America into cities across Africa. It did not arrive as an indigenous cultural tradition or a deeply rooted religious observance.

Instead, it entered largely through commercial channels, marketed through advertising, retail promotions, and global popular culture.

In many urban African contexts, the celebration took on a consumer-driven character, where affection could be demonstrated through visible purchases and public displays.

The Pressure and Performance of Modern Love

Today, African men are often measured by their Valentine’s Day performance. Did he buy enough flowers? Did he book the fanciest dinner? Did he post a public declaration on social media? And if any of these boxes are unchecked, the question lingers: does he even love her?

This framing reduces love to spectacle. It emphasizes external validation over internal authenticity.

Traditional African expressions of love were rarely performative. A husband standing by his wife through challenges, a wife defending her husband’s dignity in public, or families demonstrating care through time, effort, and shared struggle were the acts that mattered.

Love was quiet but solid. It was not a one-day performance. It did not require imported symbols or public announcements. It required presence, commitment, and consistent effort.

There is nothing inherently wrong with Valentine’s Day. Celebrating love can be beautiful. But the problem arises when it replaces our own ways of showing affection.

If love requires flowers, chocolates, or Instagram posts to feel real, then something fundamental has been lost.

Valentine’s Day should not create pressure. It should be a choice. It should complement our own expressions of love rather than supplant them.

Long before red roses arrived in African cities, love already lived here. It was built into our communities, our responsibilities, and our relationships. It did not need wrapping paper, ribbons, or social media validation.

Reflecting on Authentic Love

Ask yourself this February 14: are you celebrating love, or are you performing it? Are you participating in a ritual that amplifies your emotions, or are you trying to meet society’s expectations of what love should look like for a single day? If love must wait for a calendar date to exist, then perhaps it was never fully present in the first place.

African men, women, and families have always known that love is not seasonal. It does not need to be public. It is in consistency, respect, presence, and effort. It is in showing up quietly and meaningfully.

Valentine’s Day is here to stay. Its red hearts and public declarations will continue to dominate social media timelines and city streets. But there is a critical lesson beneath the spectacle.

Love is most profound when it does not seek applause, when it is measured not in material value but in authenticity, and when it thrives in everyday acts that go unnoticed.

The question we must ask ourselves is whether our own ways of loving have been forgotten. Because long before Valentine’s Day arrived, love was already alive in African homes, offices, streets, and hearts.

It existed quietly, consistently, and without expectation. And if we remember that, we may find that the loud gestures of February 14 are not necessary at all.

Love does not need a deadline, a hashtag, or a price tag. It only needs presence, understanding, and intention. It should be loud everyday and not just one day in 365 days.

And perhaps, if African men and women return to these truths, Valentine’s Day will become not a day of pressure, but a day of reflection, a reminder of what love has always been.