I started thinking about names a few weeks ago after I got a letter addressed to me as “Mr. Abiola Biya” at the office. Before then, I had gotten countless emails referring to me as “Dear sir,” and a colleague informed me that while I was running errands, a client came around looking for Mr. Biya and had to be informed that Mr. Biya was in fact a Miss. Not long after, I got a couple of emails from my daily devotional, Our Daily Bread, about names and stuff like that just kept popping up and let’s just say I have been thinking about names since then.
I did not used to love my government name, I liked it, but I didn’t love it. Even now, I am not sure I love it but I love the sound of it and I love that it suits me. For a long time, I wondered what it would be like if I had a different name but I have kind of decided that my name is just fine and I need to get over myself.
Somehow, people always feel the need to give me a new name, some form of one of my names or something I have called myself in the past. I have countless nicknames, from Gleydey to Grandma, BB to Abby, Ancestor to Dodo. Although I may not have loved being called these names at the time, they all hold a special significance to me, they remind of me of things and people that I love and some incredible times in my life.
And to me, that’s what’s in a name.