‘Kunta.’
I am thinking of Kunta Kinte, from the 1977 mini-series, Roots. The absurdity of his brash stubbornness. Chained and whipped, what did he think he could achieve then by disagreeing with his master?
The brash stubbornness.
To capture the feeling in that phrase, I would restart this piece the same way rapper Odumodublvck begins his Kunta Kinte track.
“Your name is Toby.
You must learn how to say your name;
What is your name?”
“Kunta Kinte.”
***
‘What is a Name for?’
On my first visit to the capital city of Enugwu, I was struck by the straight-forwardness of how bus stops were named: Fire Service (after a landmark Federal Fire Service outpost), Tunnel, Dust-bin. The name of the city itself bears such straightforwardness — Enugwu-Ngwo (on top of a hill).
In Ọka, I realized another pattern in naming convention and this one is more common across Igbo states. Ifite-Ọka (residential Oka), Agu-Ọka (government seat of Oka), Ama-ọbia (visitor settlement). Every place name in Igbo society, therefore, holds within itself either a story or an intention behind the existence of that place. Or sometimes both.
As a general cultural statement, names are usually the first definition: how do I know what I am looking at? What is it called? A name confers soul, transforms fetus to baby in the eyes of anyone looking. Here is a thought experiment; if a thing does not a have a name to call it by, does it really exist?
‘Decolonization, Revolution, Renaissance’
The good news is, enough generations have passed to come to appreciate the monstrosity of colonialism with the proportional amount of disgust. To strip a people naked of their identity, flatten their identities into something not quite human, for economic gain? Disgusting.
The bad news is, the generation that fully understands this fact, the generation unwilling to open their palms to Europe and America, are still largely politically powerless. With the way Nigerian democracy runs, they may well remain politically impotent for another decade.
That landscape notwithstanding, there is no problem with setting up foundations and repurposing the culture in preparation for when the political shift would become a possibility. That is what festivals such as the Ọba Ji Festival, the Ụmụọfịa Arts Festival are doing with their advertisement of an Igbo society free of the impact of Western rule. This society has also become a fixture in fiction, which is where nearly every revolution begins. It is in works like Chigozie Obioma’s The Orchestra of Minorities and Akwaeke Emezi’s Freshwater.
The movement for decolonization, beyond political and economic emancipation, needs to involve the independence of power and thought. Names and naming conventions, both in Africa and beyond, are usually rooted in the culture and spirituality of a people and only find meaning within that context. Ancient Greeks named their towns and city-states after local deities who were believed to feature heavily in that area. Delphi was named after the Delphic oracle, which was dedicated to Apollo. Athens for Athena the goddess of wisdom. I have mentioned earlier that a name holds the intention for the existence of a place; the spirit of the city, if you prefer. For citizens of that town, its name invokes national pride; it carries the weight of the history of that place and what those tales mean to the hearts of its men. To stick with our Greek references for a bit longer, Sparta was named after the granddaughter of the thunder god, Zeus. The men of Sparta did not forget that in a hurry.
A fair number of African towns were renamed by colonial figures, after a pattern not unlike the way scientists name insignificant animals. Burkina Faso, translated to Land of the Incorruptible, was hoisted upon the bland taxonomy of Upper Volta by the French, labeled after a river around the region. You begin to see my point.
Perhaps the most obvious example of identity stripping is Tshwane, South Africa’s capital. The name you might be more familiar with is Pretoria, which was the name of a Dutch settler.
To change a place name is to cut off its people, especially generations that come after the name change, from their history and authentic identity. Life has few things more heartbreaking than an entire nation that does not know who they are. Again, there would be no serious talks on decolonization or a renaissance in Igbo thought until we have fully reclaimed our identity in our collective consciousness.
Now, it should be noted that changing town names to what they are supposed to be called would not by itself repair the damage of colonialism. Of course not. Decolonization is a complex process involving deliberate and persistent strides across every aspect of society: political, economic, belief and value systems. Reclaiming place names has to do more with reshaping a mindset. In 1990s Zaire, the dictator Mobutu, made the name-switch from Democratic Republic of Congo which was laudable, but the other practical reforms backfired. In the end, in the midst of a crumbling post-Mobutu society and the threat of civil war, the name change did not mean very much. But it is an important step nonetheless.
Taking up the duty to cast off a colonial shadow while referring to yourself as what they had called you is akin to terrorists who fight against Western ideology using weapons created as a result of that very Western system of thought.
Also, it is spelt and pronounced Igbo, not Ibo.
‘The Official Records Challenge’
One of the most significant challenges in reverting to original place names is the potential disruption it could cause to official records and documentation. This concern is not trivial, as official documents—such as passports, identity cards, land titles, birth certificates, and business registrations—form the backbone of legal and administrative systems. Changing place names would necessitate updates across a wide array of these records, which would cost a fair amount, not to mention the confusion it could cause.
For instance, in South Africa, the renaming of Pretoria to Tshwane in 2005 led to concerns about the high costs involved in changing road signs, official stationery, and legal documents. Businesses expressed fears that they would incur additional expenses in updating their business registrations, marketing materials, and contracts. The cost of reprinting official documents and reconfiguring digital systems can be particularly prohibitive for small businesses and individuals, who might find it challenging to absorb these expenses.
While these concerns are valid, they are not insurmountable. The practical challenges of updating official records and documentation can be mitigated through careful planning, phased implementation, and strategic use of technology.
Take the Zimbabwe model for instance. When the name-change was made from Rhodesia, the government created a transition period during which both the old and new name were recognized. In time institutions and the international community became more familiar with the new name and the old one was phased out.
The Igbo case isn’t even that complicated. The vast majority of our renaming process involves proper spelling and pronunciation. All it needs is collective will to authenticity.
***
An Index of Misspelled Place names in Ala-Igbo
Abia – Oma ahia
Omambala – Oka
Delta – Ahaba
Ebonyi – Aba nkeleke
Enugwu – Enugwu
Imo – Owerre
Other Town Names
Olu (Orlu)
Onicha (Onitsha)
Nne-ewi (Nnewi)
Nne-Obu (Nnobi)
Ama-obia (Amawbia)
Oyigbo (Obigbo)
***
Image: MS Copilot remixed