What's In A Name?

When I started siSwati lessons with my friend Nombuso this week, I learned a lot more than expected. I was asking her what the names of various Swazi friends and family members mean, and she was able to translate. For example, Siphesiwe, my 12-year-old sisi, translates to “our special gift,” because make had already had two boys and she so badly wanted a girl. Njabulo, my 16-year-old bhuti, translates to happiness. Every name has a translation and frequently is a word you’d use in conversation. I know a boy at the school named Siyabonga, which is the word for thank you. I say that every day.

I explained to Nombuso that we do not name our children in this manner. If I want to know what my name means, I have to look it up on the internet to see what its origin is, and what the closest translation to English is. I know the meaning of my brother’s name (Cameron – crooked nose; every sister has a responsibility to know when names have funny meanings), but not the meanings of the names of my friends or acquaintances. As I was explaining this, I said that this is why the Volunteers find some names here very funny. When a man in Shoprite introduced himself as Comfort, I thought it was a pickup line (it wasn’t). You’ll also find women named Goodness, Blessings, Girlie, and so on. I thought this was funny, but then Nombuso looked at me and said: “But how do you know your story?”

I stopped, and thought. I asked her for clarification. She told me that she knows her whole life story through her name. When her mother was pregnant, she barely gained any weight and was able to do as she liked, free from medical setbacks. For her daughter, she chose a name that means independence and freedom, because that describes her pregnancy. Nombuso says that through names, you learn everyone’s story, as well as what he means to his family. I remarked that it was cool, and we moved on with the lesson.

After I got home, I did more thinking. While it’s funny to hear names like Lucky and Comfort in men, it’s really amazing to think that the name actually means something. A mother and father took the experiences of pregnancy and where they were in their lives at the moment they welcomed their new baby, and so a name is chosen. It’s more than just a background, it’s a legacy that parents can leave with only one word. It’s beautiful, and it’s one of the aspects of the culture here that I didn’t fully appreciate before.

I was named before I even met my host family during training. The bosisi had started calling me Maswazi, meaning Swazi girl, before I even arrived. They had dreams of teaching me siSwati, how to cook liphalishi, how to dance, and how to sing. They wanted me to feel and act Swazi, and they named me according to their dreams for me. Before I understood, I was a bit annoyed. I mean, come on. Maswazi? We couldn’t have gone with something that sounds cool; we had to go with something that makes everyone laugh when I introduce myself? Now, I get it. They had dreams for me which they never shared with a conversation. They shared those dreams with one word.

I’ll carry the legacy of my name throughout my service in Swaziland. Now that I know what it means, and not just in terms of the literal translation, I will introduce myself with pride. Knowing that others dreamed dreams for you before you were able to dream them yourself makes you feel extraordinarily special and extremely loved.

Thank you, umndeni wami.