Sarah Britten’s post about Afrikaans names reminded me of another bunch of people who are apt to give their offspring some pretty amusing, if not unfortunate names. Black people.
I’m sure this has happened to you before: you walk into the Steers, place your order, wait for 5 minutes and then accept your greasy burger and chips. Because you were “brung up” properly, you glance at the assistant’s name tag so you can thank him, despite the fact that your chips have the texture and taste of toothpicks. And then you find yourself in the awkward position of trying not be openly amazed at the name pinned neatly on his chest. Jester. Heavenly. Joyful. Moment.Of course, these are the fringe examples. Black people are far more likely to be named after one of the 12 Disciples, or a medieval Anglo-Saxon despot, perhaps.
I don’t think it requires a PhD in “Why Black People do the Things They do” for me to guess how this curious phenomenon came about. I imagine early 20th century mine bosses would have had difficulty in shouting, “Hey, Lehlohonolo!” Far easier to say, “Hey, Samson. Crawl into this hole in the ground were you will more likely than not die.” If you think I’m making light of a serious thing, you are correct. It’s an affliction of mine. I can’t seem to take certain things seriously. You know what’s even funnier? My own name. My full legal name is Waldemar Siphosenkosi Hlongwane. How I came to be encumbered with this unwieldy Scandinavian or Teutonic nom de guerre (depending on which Wikipedia page you consult) is something of a mystery to me. It’s not that I mind. It adds to the exoticism, I think.
And it is really amusing to hear the different ways of pronouncing my name people can think up. One particularly memorable one was happened way back in 2007. Our residence in UCT would conduct a fire drill once a semester, and once everyone had stumbled out of bed and assembled in the parking area outside, a quick roll call would be conducted (sounds like I was in the military, doesn’t it). There I would stand in my jammies at three in the morning, waiting for the inevitable “Well-der-mar?” from the sub-warden. Trying to correct him would only add insult to injury, of course. University students can be very unkind when it comes to other people’s funny names.
The correct pronunciation is Vaal-de-mar. I still prefer Sipho, though. And you can be very certain that my own sprogs (which is to say, when I choose to have them) will have deep, meaningful and utterly unpronounceable African names one day, like Nomgqibelo or Nhlanhla.
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