The naming debate rages on with the new front runner being “Prepaid Jealousy”…My husband has joined in and come up with “Fridge Door” I guess he figures if we are going that route we might as well go all the way! My baby sister is serious though - and coming up with names like there is no tomorrow. I am a little scared but she just wants to be involved as she has never been an aunty.
Off course most of this naming stuff is in jest. For those of you who are not familiar with African naming traditions they can be complex. I personally don’t really know much about most naming traditions – it seems the Yoruba of Nigerian and Akan people of Ghana have the similar naming tradition and name their children seven days after birth in a naming ceremony. Naming traditions around the world very involved and regimented – more so than in Zambia anyhow. We may have had ceremonies before but no longer do so - I certainly haven't been to one. The main tradition I am aware of is that children are named alternately by their grandparents. So Doright’s family would name our first child, my family would name our second and so on and so forth, however even this tradition is not observed religiously.
My parents seem relatively unconcerned about who names the child – I think they are just hoping I don’t name the child Zwan’gendaba or something similar, as I have been threatening to for the last five years or so.
I feel strongly about my children’s names because I feel their names should reflect their African heritage. That said, I had dinner with a family friend who explained that her son was still unable to say his name (at the age of three) as it was linguistically complicated. It’s a lovely name but I can understand why a young tongue might find it difficult.
The measure of difficulty for me is whether my foreign-born non-bemba/Ngoni/Lamba/ speaking husband can say it. He can say my name, which seems to befuddle the majority of Westerners. African names are really not that complicated; most people who can not say my name are either frightened by the double consonants, lazy or linguistically challenged even in their own mother tongue. English speaking people are the worst – they have no respect for anything they may consider “exotic” and generally give a name two tries before asking if there is something else they can call you. Doright finds it exasperating, I am bored of it now and to be honest, these days I generally right people off when they show a disinclination to attempt to pronounce my name properly. The hardline attitude started when one of my husband’s aunts (who I suspect suffers from some sort of mental disorder that results in her being rude to everyone) decided my name was too difficult to say and she wasn’t going to try. She is a little stuck as she has not been given an alternative to use; I am relieved as it means she can never approach me directly as she doesn’t know how to refer to me…
Off course most of this naming stuff is in jest. For those of you who are not familiar with African naming traditions they can be complex. I personally don’t really know much about most naming traditions – it seems the Yoruba of Nigerian and Akan people of Ghana have the similar naming tradition and name their children seven days after birth in a naming ceremony. Naming traditions around the world very involved and regimented – more so than in Zambia anyhow. We may have had ceremonies before but no longer do so - I certainly haven't been to one. The main tradition I am aware of is that children are named alternately by their grandparents. So Doright’s family would name our first child, my family would name our second and so on and so forth, however even this tradition is not observed religiously.
My parents seem relatively unconcerned about who names the child – I think they are just hoping I don’t name the child Zwan’gendaba or something similar, as I have been threatening to for the last five years or so.
I feel strongly about my children’s names because I feel their names should reflect their African heritage. That said, I had dinner with a family friend who explained that her son was still unable to say his name (at the age of three) as it was linguistically complicated. It’s a lovely name but I can understand why a young tongue might find it difficult.
The measure of difficulty for me is whether my foreign-born non-bemba/Ngoni/Lamba/ speaking husband can say it. He can say my name, which seems to befuddle the majority of Westerners. African names are really not that complicated; most people who can not say my name are either frightened by the double consonants, lazy or linguistically challenged even in their own mother tongue. English speaking people are the worst – they have no respect for anything they may consider “exotic” and generally give a name two tries before asking if there is something else they can call you. Doright finds it exasperating, I am bored of it now and to be honest, these days I generally right people off when they show a disinclination to attempt to pronounce my name properly. The hardline attitude started when one of my husband’s aunts (who I suspect suffers from some sort of mental disorder that results in her being rude to everyone) decided my name was too difficult to say and she wasn’t going to try. She is a little stuck as she has not been given an alternative to use; I am relieved as it means she can never approach me directly as she doesn’t know how to refer to me…
Anyway enough about the crazy aunt and more about naming – the truth is we have names and we are sticking to them despite unrelated people’s comments about not liking them because of this, that or the other. We had names before we even got pregnant, one for a boy and one for a girl. And no the poor child will not be called Zwan’gendaba (well at least not as a first name☺)
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