What I fail to understand is why we are not given a chance as human beings to be consulted, test out and choose our names. I mean a name is a pretty important thing for a person don’t you think? It is a very long term thing. It’s an “until death” situation that you are burdened with and you may not feel entirely comfortable with your name or, god forbid, may actually hate it.

I went through a period when I really felt hard done by my name. It was; I felt; a middle of the line, boring, conservative, xhosa name that was really very common too. I kept thinking if you have to stand head and shoulders above the rest of the common folk the least that your parents can do to give you that initial vertical shove is to give you a funny funky viby name. If they were not sure then legally there should be a process in the system that allows you, to change your name at the age of eighteen if you are not happy with it. If you are considered old enough to be regarded as having the legal right to drink, drive and give consent to have sex, well you are pretty damn legally able to decide if you like your name or not. That argument stands to reason doesn’t it?

My dad was totally against giving us English names. When asked by us to explain this very uncool , we felt at the time, decision. He would say , if they cant bother to learn to pronounce AND understand the meaning of your name then that person has no respect for who you are. My child the day you show me soft flowing hair growing out of your scalp is the day you can argue with me about having an English name. I cannot tell you how much I envied the other kids in the village who had names like Dorcas, Dora, Sylvia, Eugenia, Knowledge and Lovemore. My best friend had, what I thought was the best name of all Pinky. She was neither pink; as a matter of fact her skin colour was more charcoal than caramel, nor short.

I am eternally grateful for my father’s insight now but I can’t help but wonder if those kids do not deserve to have a right to legally change their names at the age of eighteen, without going through some long and complicated application process. If the system was set up for this sort of thing, you could rock up at the home affairs office on the morning of your eighteenth birthday, with your ID. It would be a matter of informing the officer that you, Dick Longfellow, are now 18 years and 3 minutes old and you would like to change your name forthwith, to Charles Longfellow. “ what the heck officer while you are at it just drop the Long and register my name as Charles Fellow. Easy pizzey. No stress no fuss.

Xhosa names are worse as they almost always mean something. You can almost see a generational trend to it. They used to be about an event that happened around the advent of your birth or about names of places or trees etc. Hence NO at the beginning of girls names. e.g Nokulinda – we waited Nondleko – if your birth was expensive etc etc

Then they reflected the aspirations that you parents have about you or your siblings e.g Ayeza – if it’s a girl and they are waiting for boys, Masiphile – if there was a still born etc

These days they are mostly trendy, funky and modern e.g Owam – mine; Siphesihle – beautiful gift; etc