What’s In A Name
I was born Loise Ondiso Madete, until I went to a british curriculum school at the tender age of 6 or 7 I was known by most people as Ondi or Ondiso. After that my family and childhood friends still knew me as Ondi but most people started calling me Loise. It took until I was in my second year of university to start asking why.
Was it because it was the first name on the application forms, the birth certificate and other forms of identification? Or perhaps because most of the teachers at the aforementioned school struggled with Ondiso and prefered the English name? Or maybe it was because it was the thing to do- use the English name?
I concluded (pragmatically) that it was probably a mixture of all the above, but I was left with a sour taste in my mouth. The answers seemed superficial and robotic, lacking soul and individuality. I felt cheated of my identity because the name many knew me as was not as a result of a choice but a set of cold and calculated societal obligations.
Many people I know have English names, traditional names, and nick-names. Many use their English names at work, school and on anything to do with the government (booo) but with friends and family there seems to be more of a choice. In less formal settings identity, personality, and history plays more of a role in what we are called. Can I infer then that the formal settings and name match the more formal personalities that are found in work and school environment?
Whatever the case have you noticed that more and more people in Nairobi are casting aside their English names and embracing their chosen ones? Maybe you’ve seen it on Facebook, and other social media. I can’t speculate as to why but it is an interesting note to make.
Personally I am terrible with names, remembering other peoples, and remembering to give my own. I never associate a person or myself with a name but when I have to give one I am now most comfortable with Ondi. Why? Because it reminds me of myself, and takes me back to family, and something personal and informal. Loise has never suited the contours of my skin the way Ondi does. Maybe it’s the memory, and the language, and the distinct feel of home all wrapped up in those two syllables.
Really I don’t mind what people call me, what is in a name really?
