The African Concept of Name

In this section, we shall look at the most important developments in the anthroponymic systems of sub-Saharan Africa in the 20th century.⁹⁰ It should be noted that these naming systems do not necessarily have much in common. Just as there are many and varied cultures in Africa, so are there also many and varied naming systems.⁹¹ Therefore, one ought to be careful when making generalisations about personal naming in Africa. Nevertheless, it has been stated that there are a number of significant differences between African and European personal naming patterns, especially in the understanding of the concept of name. Two aspects seem to be of special significance here: the relationship between the name and the person, and name meaningfulness. Let us investigate these first.

Name and person

It is often claimed that the main difference between the European and African concept of name is that in Africa, the name and the person are inseparable. In traditional African thinking, the

89 Vandebosch (1998, p. 243) describes the role of the media in name-giving: “The media are providing a pool of potential names, associating them with particular social characteristics and presenting some names as more desirable as others.” Vandebosch (1998, p. 243) also points out that the media can create both positive and negative name stereotypes and thus increase or decrease the popularity of certain names.

90 There is not much literature published on African names and naming systems in general, and the books available mainly contain lists of African names without a deeper analysis of their backgrounds. Examples of these are: Abell 1992, Asante 1991, Chuks-Orji 1972, Madubuike 1976, and Osuntoki 1970.

91 Koopman (1986, p. 19) has even stated that the only common factor of African peoples with regard to names is that they all have a variety of names. Some African researchers, however, emphasise the cultural unity of Africa and accuse Western intellectuals of seeing the cultural diversity of Africa only. According to Asante, for example, African culture is “determined by a unity of origin as well as a common struggle”. (Asante 1985, p. 3–4, 6.)

name is the person, whereas the European concept is that the name is a mere label which refers to the person. Hence in Africa, one is not only called X, one is X. (Herbert 1999a, p.

215–216; Koopman 1986, p. 14–15; Mbiti 1969, p. 119; Obeng 1998, p. 165.) Ojoade (1980, p. 198) puts this clearly too when he says:

In a word, the traditional African name is much more than a means of identification. It is an essential part of the bearer.

The close connection between the name and the person is reflected in the common idea in African naming systems that the child is not a person until he or she is properly named.

Should an infant die before naming, it is thought of as if it had never been born. This attitude has been explained by the high rates of infantile mortality in Africa: it helps the parents to overcome their sorrow after the death of the child. (Parrinder 1981, p. 94; Turnbull 1966, p.

53.) The dead are also regarded as having a personality only as long as there are people who recognise them by name. After that, the name disappears and these “living-dead” lose their humanness and become mere spirits.⁹² (Mbiti 1969, p. 79, 134, 163.) Therefore, “keeping somebody’s name alive” is a major concern for many Africans (Dahl 1998, p. 325).

In many African societies, children are traditionally named after departed relatives, which indicates the belief that the dead person has come back to the family through the birth of the baby (Mbiti 1991, p. 93; Parrinder 1969, p. 84–85).⁹³ Beidelman (1974, p. 287) points out that names are thus “ageless”:

[T]he names of the dead and the living are the same and, indeed, a name is therefore ageless, standing for an endless number of persons so that when one intones a name of a dead person, or even of the living, one could be invoking a large number of spirits, even ones about whom one has no clear knowledge or recollection.

African children are often named after living relatives as well and are thus identified with them. An example from Tanzania illustrates this well. Among the Sukuma-Nyamwezi people, who name the first son after his grandfather, the grandfather may say to his daughter-in-law: “You have given birth to me”. Indeed, in societies in which children are systematically named after their grandparents, these two generations are often considered to be the same. They are, in a sense, merged into each other. (Brandström 1998, p. 144–145.)

It is also a common idea in Africa, e.g. among the Basotho, the Ibibio and the Yoruba

92 The Kaguru people believe that convicted witches and people who have died of serious diseases are non-persons and hence lose their names (Beidelman 1974, p. 286).

93 Magesa (1998, p. 87) notes that in African societies, personal names are used to keep alive in memory not only the people but certain of their characteristics as well: “Naming involves the incarnation or actualisation of a person (an ancestor), a certain desired moral quality or value, a physical trait or power, or an occasion or event.”

peoples, that the name may have a psychological effect on the character and personality of the name-bearer (Essien 1986, p. 79; Hallgren 1988, p. 159; Mohome 1972, p. 171; Ojoade 1980, p. 196). Because of this, names of people with doubtful reputations are not adopted (Ayisi 1988, p. 26). Often people are expected to behave in such a manner as to uphold their name.

Therefore if a person bears a name meaning ‘the brave one’, he is expected to be brave (Obeng 1998, p. 165).

In many African societies, people sharing the same name are considered to have a special relationship. Because of this special bond, namesakes may be expected to give presents to each other or help one another in times of difficulty. (Turnbull 1966, p. 56; Visser & Visser 1998, p. 230; Wieschhoff 1941, p. 212.) One may say that in these societies, the namesake relationship is an important part of the “social security system” of the people. Turnbull (1976, p. 181–182) analyses the namesake relationship among the Bushmen (San) as follows:

It is not merely an economic bond-friendship; there is an almost religious quality to it, a sense of identification, of the inextricability of the fates of those sharing the same name, as though by virtue of that fact alone they have some power over each other. ... This name sharing is not necessarily invoked all the time, but it is one mechanism by which temporary alliances and bonds can be formed when there is need, either to secure support in a dispute, or shelter or food in times of shortage.

Because of the close connection between the name and the person, names are also used widely in witchcraft. It is a general belief in African cultures that there is hidden power in personal names: to know the names of a person means to control him or her (Hallgren 1988, p.

159). Thus, it is believed that calling out the name may for example cause the person to become ill or die (Krige 1988, p. 322–323). Personal names are also used for achieving positive goals.

For example, a wrestler may invoke the name of a famous wrestler or a strong ancestor for inspiration during a match (Essien 1986, p. 85).

As names are viewed as components of the self in Africa, it is generally believed that they should not be used carelessly or in abuse (Beidelman 1974, p. 282). Therefore, name avoidance is a widespread custom among many African peoples. Often such practices are very carefully patterned. According to the Zulu and Xhosa custom of hlonipha, for example, a woman is not allowed to mention the names of her husband or her relatives-in-law, nor any word which is derived from the same word as these names. As a result, the speech of the women has come to differ considerably from that of the men. (Finlayson 1984, p. 138; Krige 1988, p. 30.) Among the Hausa people, a man avoids mentioning the name of his father, his first wife and his eldest child, even when he refers to other people who bear the same names.

Instead of these names, he uses phrases such as “your namesake”. In many societies, the names of the dead are not mentioned either. (Gregersen 1977, p. 161–162.)

Teknonymy, i.e. the practice of calling the person “mother-of -X”, “father-of-X”, etc., also serves the function of avoiding the mentioning of the “real” or “true” name of the person in

many societies (Beidelman 1974, p. 284; Essien 1986, p. 85; Gregersen 1977, p. 162; Kidd 1906, p. 33–34; Mohome 1972, p. 180–181).⁹⁴ So does the custom of having a “secret” or

“hidden” name, which is considered to be the real name of the person but is almost never mentioned for the fear of evil powers. Instead of it, a public name, or a nickname, is used.

Secret names are especially common in West Africa. (Gregersen 1977, p. 162; Ryan 1981, p.

139–140.)

The close link between the name and the person also explains the common custom of giving the child a “derogatory-protective” or a “death-prevention” name, which indicates its worthlessness, to protect the child from death. These names, with meanings such as ‘dung-heap’, ‘tail of a dog’ or ‘let it be thrown away’, are given in order to trick or confuse evil spirits so that the child may not appear of importance to them. This is especially done if the mother has previously lost other children. (Alford 1988, p. 63; Gregersen 1977, p. 161; Kidd 1906, p. 36;

Mbiti 1991, p. 93; Obeng 1998, p. 165–166; Parrinder 1981, p. 93; Turnbull 1966, p. 53.) The Akan people believe that the funnier the name is, the better it works, as the child will be ashamed to go back to the world of the spirits bearing a funny name. It has been pointed out that even if such names ridicule the child and may suggest that he or she is not wanted, they actually show that the child is really wanted and loved. (Obeng 1998, p. 166, 169.)⁹⁵

Name meaningfulness

Another criterion frequently offered for distinguishing African and European personal naming is that of name meaningfulness. It is often stressed that African names carry semantic import, i.e. they “have meaning”, and that this meaning is also identified by the people who bear them.

(De Klerk & Bosch 1995, p. 69–70; Herbert & Bogatsu 1990, p. 3; Herbert 1996, p. 1222;

1997, p. 6; 1999a, p. 216; 1999b, p. 109; Moyo 1996, p. 12; Suzman 1994, p. 253.)⁹⁶ All over Africa, personal names are taken seriously and chosen with special care and consideration (Mbiti 1991, p. 92–93). They are often formed using rather complex linguistic patterns as well (Akinnaso 1980, p. 276).

94 According to Alford (1988, p. 90–91), the term teknonymy usually refers to the custom of designating parents according to the names of their children (“father-of-X”, “mother-of-X”), but occasionally it may also refer to the practice of designating individuals according to any kin relationship, e.g. “grandparent-of-X”, “son-of-“grandparent-of-X”, “aunt-of-“grandparent-of-X”, etc. In this study, this term is used in the former sense only.

95 Obeng (1998, p. 171–179) divides Akan death-prevention names into seven classes: 1. Names based on strangers’ or migrants’ names, 2. Names referring to destructive or dangerous animals, 3. Names referring to low status jobs, 4. Names referring to filthy places or objects, 5. Names referring to tabooed objects, 6. Names expressing emotions, and 7. Names expressing requests.

96 Herbert and Bogatsu (1990, p. 3) also point out that even if some Western names are semantically transparent, e.g. Petunia and Ruby, the relationship of these names to their sources is different from that of meaningful African names.

Many traditional naming systems in Africa are characterised by name uniqueness. Even when children are named after relatives, there is usually only one living bearer for each name in these societies.⁹⁷ Altogether, personal naming shows great creativity in Africa, and names may often be formed of almost any linguistic elements. (Brenzinger 1999, p. 9; Herbert 1996, p.

1222, 1225; 1999a, p. 218.)⁹⁸ It has also been emphasised that the various meanings of African names throw light upon the whole traditional culture, and thus they may serve in reaching a deeper understanding of the people, their ideas and their way of life (Hallgren 1988, p. 168; Okere 1996a, p. 133).⁹⁹ Madubuike (1976, p. 13–14) sums this up as follows:

Names given to people have definite meanings, and parents, relatives, and well wishers are very conscious when choosing the names of their children or of an individual. Thus names are not merely labels or simply tags which the individual carries along with him. They have a deep social significance and many names studied collectively express a world view, the Weltanschauung of the people.

It is important to note that the lexical meaning of the name does not usually reveal the whole significance of the name. Therefore, it is necessary to make a distinction between meaning and significance in African names (Herbert 1999a, p. 216). According to Herbert (1997, p. 6), significance is related to the reason for choosing a name, i.e. “what it means within the sociocultural fabric”. Ebeogu (1993, p. 137) also remarks that African names always have a context: “each of them is the product of some experience, which produces a creative exercise that gives rise to the name ... Each of them therefore narrates a story.” It has also been pointed out that the meanings of African names are often interpreted differently by different people. Even fathers and mothers may not “understand” the name of their child in a similar way. (Herbert 1996, p. 1222.) Akinnaso (1980, p. 279) also remarks that the information which is “symbolically stored and retrieved” in a personal name may not be known to every member of the community.

Why is it then that traditional African naming systems seem to emphasise the meaning of the name, contrary to European naming systems? First, one should note that all over the

97 In some African societies, typically among small groups, names are still unique for the vast majority of people. This is the case with the Kxoe in Namibia; for examples see Brenzinger 1999.

98 However, it has been noted that even if the linguistic rules of the language suggest an infinite inventory of personal names, there are often sociocultural principles which restrict the formation of new names in African societies (Akinnaso 1980, p. 299).

99 Okere (1996a, p. 133) describes traditional Igbo names in this way: “Igbo names always bear a message, a meaning, a history, a record or a prayer. ... they embody a rich mine of information on the people’s reflection and considered comment on life and reality. They provide a window into the Igbo world of values as well as their peculiar conceptual apparatus for dealing with life.” On the other hand, Obeng (1998, p. 184) states that it is impossible to fully understand Akan names without a thorough knowledge of Akan society. Akinnaso (1983, p. 158), who has investigated Yoruba names, also points out that names are “conventionalized

communicative acts” which cannot be understood by analysing names on the linguistic level only.

world, smaller-scale and less complex societies tend to use names with semantic meaning (Alford 1988, p. 60). One reason for this might be that in nonliterate cultures, where information is stored and transmitted orally, personal names often serve a “diary-keeping function” (Akinnaso 1980, p. 279). As we saw in subsection 2.2.1., names were meaningful in traditional Germanic and Proto-Finnic naming systems as well. However, in the course of time, and because of various sociocultural and linguistic developments, name meaningfulness lost its significance, and personal names became mere pointers. In traditional European naming systems, the relationship between the name and the person was also considered to be close, and names were used for purposes of magic (Forsman 1894, p. 11–12; Kiviniemi 1982a, p.

30–32).

It is evident that the traditional European naming systems resembled the traditional African ones in many respects. However, it seems reasonable to assume that the contemporary differences between African and European personal naming do not originate from fundamental differences between “African” and “European” ways of thinking or philosophy, but from different sociocultural developments in these societies. A historical analysis of these naming systems also confirms that the major difference is not between “Africa” and “Europe” in the first place but, as we shall see later in this thesis, between traditional and modern naming in these societies.

On the other hand, it has been noted that not all Africans hold strong views about the meanings of their names, and the name is often seen as a mere label in Africa as well (Herbert 1996, p. 1225). One explanation for this may be that in Africa, the meaning of the name seems to tell much more about the name-giver than the name-bearer (Herbert 1999a, p. 220), and hence it is not as important to the latter as it is to the former. It is also clear that in those African societies in which children are named after other people, reference to the namesake is crucial, not the meaning of the name. For example, Ennis (1945, p. 7–8) points out that among the Ovimbundu people in Angola, the namesake custom “tends to destroy the meaning of names”.

Hessel and Cobi Visser (1998, p. 230) say about Naro names that “the meaning of a name is not of primary importance, it is much more the relationship it indicates that is important”.

Madubuike (1976, p. 96) remarks that because of the custom of inheriting relatives’ names, many Gikuyus believe that their names have no special meaning. Based on all this, it is justified to claim that name meaningfulness is not equally important in all African societies.