What’s in a name?

The one aspect of Gîkûyû tradition that fascinates me the most is the system of naming. I must note from the onset that this is also the one aspect of the Agîkûyû’s ûndûire that is nearly untouched by the many forces that have bent or broken so many pillars of the Africans’ ways. So that even though we have lost so much, the way home is still intact.

There’s a line in one of today’s popular songs in Kenya that goes, ‘…… Wakitupanda tuna germinate…’. Translated, ‘when/if they plant (bury) us, we will geirmnate. This is so true for the Agîkûyû. As I hope you will see.

The Gîkûyû way of naming is very elaborate. So well thought out that parents will never have to waste a second thinking about the name they’ll give a baby they’re expecting. As soon as a mother knows that they’re expecting, they know exactly who’s coming depending on the gender of their baby.

You see, the naming system ensures a near eternal existence of the name. Because there are three dimensions to any Gîkûyû’s life: arîa maarî kuo (those that were there), arîa mekuo (those that are here), arîa magooka(those that will come). Past, present and future. But the concept of time in Gîkûyû ûndûire is not linear. It is best represented by the infinity sign. No end and no beginning. And all this is in the name. 

A first son is named after their father’s father, their paternal grandfather. The second son is their mother’s father, the maternal grandfather. A third son will be the father’s oldest brother, the fourth will be their mother’s oldest brother. The fifth son will take the name of their father’s second oldest brother… Got it?

It’s the same for daughters. The first daughter is their paternal grandmother…..and so forth.

So your name ensures the oneness of those that were, those that are and those that will be. Awesome, right? When you call my name, you not only mention a label. You invoke the name of those who came before me as well. I am not the first of my name, you see. I carry the name of a number of people before me, and I will pass it down to many more. All those that bear my name are me, and I am them. I am, because we are. Even though I am an individual, I cannot divorce myself from my ancestors or my descendants. It is therefore my responsibility to keep that name as clean as I can, and clean the path for those who will come.

I hope that you find irathimo (blessings) in your name. I hope that those whose name you bear were good people people of thayû (peace), so that in their footsteps you will find your own thayû and you can pass it, like a baton, to those who come after you.

Thayû

Waiyaki.