What's in a Name

Post by Lara

14th April 2014

We’ve certainly used our native names on the blog before, but I’m not sure we ever gave a good explanation of how we got our names, what they mean, or how much we love them now.  In our 3^rd or 4^th week with our host family, they sat down one evening and gave us the names Gbessay Jalloh  (That’s Lara) and Abubakar Jalloh (Kevin).  Both of us were named for members of our host dad’s family—his elder brother and his mother.  Jalloh is not a Mende surname—it’s Fullah, because our host father is half Mende and half Fullah. 

Gbessay is a bit tough for an American to pronounce—because <gb> makes a different sound from a plain <g> or <b>. You have to shape your mouth like you’re about to pronounce a hard “g”, and then say a ”b” instead.  Gbessay is a Mende name traditionally given to a child born after twins.  The twins themselves are named Gina and Sao [FYI, the Gbessay is also considered one of the twins.  I’m not positive that they know “twin” means two….or that they care]. This way of naming twins is apparently a common concept in a lot of West African countries and other Sierra Leonean tribes as well. Our friend Eric who came from Burkina Faso is also a Gbessay, but of course his tribe gives the child born after twins a different name.  When people around here find out my name is Gbessay, they usually ask me if I’m a twin, to which I usually respond, “yes,” because it’s easier than explaining that I got the name after an important person in my host family who is a twin.  Sometimes the question is followed up by, “where are your twin siblings?” to which I tend to respond, “In America” [so FYI big brothers of mine—most of my acquaintances here assume you’re twins. Hehe.]  Not only do twins (and their next sibling) have special names, they’re also considered to have special powers, and the Gbessay has more magical powers than the twins, including healing abilities, smarts, and talent.  Even though many of our friends know I’m not really born after twins, they like my “boldness” and smarts, and they say the name fits me pretty well.

Abubakar is a pretty common Muslim name around here, and also the name of one of the important figures in early Islam.  Abubakar was the prophet Mohamed’s (PBUH) father-in-law—the father of the prophet’s favorite wife, Khadija.  Kevin’s name, Abubakar Jalloh, doesn’t really sound like a Mende name—we tend to be told alternately that it’s a “Muslim name” (which is true) or that it’s a “Fullah name” (also true).  That’s not easy though, because Kevin is not in fact a Muslim and does not speak a word of the Fullah language, so we have to repeatedly explain to people that even though he has a Fullah/Muslim name, he is more of a Mende by tribe.  In our time here, Kevin has definitely grown into his name, and even earned himself some nicknames, including Abu, Bockarie, Bakarr, and sometimes ABJ, which is what we call the uncle he’s named after. 

I don’t know when it happened, but at some point during our time here, we really adopted our names.  Any time I hear someone yell “Gbessay!” my head turns—and frequently, I’m not the person being called.  Kevin’s the same way. After some time at our site, we noticed that the small chorus of “Pumoi! Pumoi!” [White person! White person!] that followed us around got replaced by “Abubakar Gbessay!”  We much prefer the second exclamation to the first. It’s funny to note, though, that a lot of the small children in our town will call both of our names even if only one of us is around—or better yet, I’ll occasionally walk down the street to the tune of “Abubakar! Abubakar!” which usually elicits a response along the lines of, “Where is Abubakar? I don’t see him.”  Abubakar is a strictly male name, whereas Gbessay is a unisex name—so we understand a bit better when kids call Kevin Gbessay.

Receiving Mende names was a big step for us in feeling like we belong in this country, and in the nearly 2 years we’ve had those names, we’ve grown into them as if they were our own.  I don’t think I’ll be going by “Gbessay” in the US—I still love my given name and will be glad to answer to it once I’m back in the states.  But in a very real way, I’m not exactly the same person here that I am in the states—I think just about everyone here experiences a personality shift while living abroad.  Because of that, I’m glad that “African me” has a name to go with her unique language, culture, and personality.