“I’m American honey. Our names don’t mean sh*t” –Butch Coolidge, Pulp Fiction
Why don’t our names mean anything? I met a guy the other day named Chisha, which means “the chief." He was a bagger at the grocery store so I don’t know if you can site this as a self fulfilling prophecy case study but at least he’s got a constant reminder of what to strive for. Actually, now that I think of it, the gas station attendant that I know is named Nshota, which means “coming up short.” Maybe we might be onto something by not giving bad parents another way to express their faults.
It is part of recent African tradition to give a child two names. One in vernacular (their home language) and one in English. The child is known mostly by their English name for the rest of their lives because the idea is that an English name will allow that person to conduct international business more easily. Since the cultural norm of giving a child a name with meaning is still evident even with English names here, we have the pleasure of meeting tons of people with awesome names. Here is a scorecard from one of our recent interventions:
Notables: Offered, Memory, Blessed, Happy, King, Gift, Boster
Other popular ones: Friday, Borniface, Queen
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