Cultural Musings: Names

Ghana has caused me to think about names more than I expected to.

Ghanaians have names that are associated with the day of the week that you were born.  My name is “Afua,” because I was born on a Friday.  Most of my “obruni” friends here are “Adjua,” which means Monday. There is slightly different spellings and pronunciations depending on where in the country you are, and which tribal group is more prominent.  You may recognize the male names “Kofi” and “Kwame,” which mean “Friday” and “Saturday,” respectively.  Many men go by the name “Kofi” if they were born on a Friday, because that’s considered a day of power and a source of pride.  I tell people my name is "Afua" when I don't wish to tell people my "real" name (people here call that a Christian name... but I don't have that, either!).  I only use "Afua" when speaking to people whom I will likely not interact with much, obviously at my NGO, during interviews, and throughout my field work I go by Hannah.  When I get asked "are you Ghanaian?" upon saying my name is "Afua," I usually respond "an honorary one!"  I suggest my readers Google what day of the week it was when they were born (it's what I did - very easy), and then use the Wikipedia article to see what your Ghanaian name would be!  Again, there are regional differences in pronunciation so it's not an exact science, but you'll get a general idea of what your Ghanaian name is. 

Further, I tend to tell people my name is “Anna” because the “H” sound is sometimes hard for Ghanaians to hear and it’s easier to just truncate my name.  Besides, “Anna” is what I went by in France and in French class because there is no “H” sound in French at all, so I’m already used to it.  

Many women in the poor fishing communities have their names tattooed onto their forearms.  This is usually accompanied by their address and location.  The reason is that they are illiterate, and if they need to show someone how to write their name and how to get home, they have it written on their bodies at all time.  Also, in case they die, their body will be identifiable and can be returned to their family.  Can you imagine not being able to read or write to the extent that you simply get your name tattooed onto yourself in order to be able to be identified?  It boggles the mind.  What privilege well all have to be able to read and write.  

Along these lines, because I have “Che Sara Sara” tattooed on my ankle, I often get people calling me “Sara.”  Obviously this is only people who are literate and able to read.  It’s very confusing to them when I explain that that is not my name, because why would I have someone else’s name tattooed on my body?  I try to describe that it's not a name at all, it is a Latin phrase that means “whatever will be, will be,", which so far doesn’t seem to make much sense to the Ghanaians I've spoken to.  In America, few people have their own name tattooed upon them, although they may have the name of a lover or child.  In Ghana, it is very strange that a person would have a name tattooed that isn’t their own.  Even more confusing is the fact that the "name" I have tattooed on me isn't a name at all.

So now I answer to “Anna,” “Sara,” and “Afua,” as well as my actual name.  The rich tapestry that is life in Ghana!