Chances are good you’ve known someone who was named after a relative. You might even know someone who shares a name with his father, grandfather and great-grandfather — a John Doe IV.
Have you ever known someone who was named because his parents wanted to ward off death? It’s not an uncommon practice. Thousands of parents use specific names to ensure their children will stay alive and healthy into adulthood. In many northern African cultures, naming your child something funny, happy or strong is believed to keep death at bay.
Parents might name their son Ajani, meaning “he who wins the struggle,” to show that their son is too resilient to succumb to death. This is an especially common practice for families that have already experienced the death of infants or children.
As in many cultures around the world, people in some northern African regions view the death of a child as an evil and horrifying event. If parents lose their first child in infancy, they’re more likely to name their next child something specific to avoid the death of their second-born. The parents use it as a means to cope with the death of their first children while feeling as though they have control over the fate of their future children.
In an uncertain world where you cannot always keep your children safe, a name gives many parents a sense of security.
Edo parents from Nigeria often use names to seal the fate of their children. They name a child Onaiwu, which means “a child who will not die.” They name a child Ighiwiyisi, meaning the child will not get lost in a foreign land. They have a mouthful of a name for “a child who will not be harmed by outsiders, as long as he is loved by his family”: Osamamianmianmwen.
If that seems oddly specific, that’s because it needs to be. The goal behind this tradition is to imagine your worst fear as a parent, and ritually rid yourself of it through your child’s name.
This doesn’t only apply to a handful of African cultures, either. It’s cross-cultural.
We like to believe our names are our own, but they’re actually a deep reflection of the culture around us. Most of us didn’t choose our names. Most of our parents didn’t choose their names either. If names were truly our own, we would pick them for ourselves when we became old enough to speak (and there would likely be more people in the world named “Superman”).
Instead, our names are a representation of what our parents value. When they name us after themselves, they seek a strong family tradition to carry on long after they pass away. When they name us after something in nature, like a flower, they compare children to the beauty of the world. When they name us something random out of a baby book, they are still picking a name that they believe sounds beautiful. The culture around them shaped their opinion on what is beautiful and what isn’t.
Names are never as simple as words. They come to define us, and in some ways shape our paths. For some African parents, a name can mean the difference between life and death. Even if you don’t share this view, a name can tangibly affect whether you get hired by a company, how you’re treated by your peers and whether you’re treated equally in a relationship.
In short, we all give names meaning beyond simply how to tell each other apart.