The midwife asked me what name we were giving him. I hesitated for a second. Not because we hadn’t picked one. But because I could already hear the awkward pause coming.
“Kàmsíyọchùkwú,” I said.
She blinked.
“Kàmsí,” I added quickly, with a small smile. “It means ‘As I have asked from God.’”
She smiled back. “That’s beautiful.”
And it is. But that moment stayed with me. The soft tension between culture and clarity. Between honouring home and surviving here.
Some names make aunties raise eyebrows. Some make teachers fumble. Some sit proudly in the middle of playground chants and assembly roll calls. But the best names? The ones that stick? They carry story, soul, and swagger.
African parents today are doing something bold. We’re naming our kids in ways that honour our roots without sounding like we’re stuck in 1842.
Because let’s be honest. Some of our traditional names are beautiful, but not every child wants to walk into a British classroom answering Shokolokobangoshe and having to repeat it five times.
So we’re finding balance.
We’re giving names that carry history, meaning, and rhythm. Names that sound good on the tongue but still remind the child who they are and where they come from.
Why Traditional Names Still Matter
African names aren’t just words. They’re declarations. They remind us that our children are not starting from scratch, that they’re walking into the world already carrying something.
A traditional name can be a lifeline. A quiet reminder of who they are when the world tries to flatten them into something else. A gentle resistance.
Your son might speak with a British accent, but his name can still sing of Warri. Your daughter might love K-pop, but her name can still dance with Yoruba rhythm.
Names carry identity. They carry legacy. They carry pride. That’s why we name them not just for today, but for when we are long gone.
Names That Mean Something
African names were never just decoration. They held prayers, declarations, family history. They told the world how you came into it, what your parents hoped for, and who you belonged to.
Names like:
Àmára (Igbo) – Grace
Thandó (Zulu) – Love
Sɛ́fã (Ewe, Ghana) – Peace
Ayaná (Amharic, Ethiopia) – Beautiful flower
Òmárì (Swahili) – God is the highest
Short. Strong. Cultural. And still clean enough to sit on a CV or a Spotify artist profile.
Mixing Modern With Meaning
Some parents are now taking longer names and shaping them for modern life without losing the soul.
Chúkwuébúká becomes Èbúká (Igbo – “God is great”)
Olúwadámilólá becomes Dámì (Yoruba – “The Lord has blessed me with wealth”)
Nthabiséng becomes Nthà (Sotho – “Make me happy”)
Èyram (Ewe, Ghana – “He has blessed me”) stays short and beautiful
Àbásíámá becomes Ámá (Efik – “God’s gift”)
Wanjikũ becomes Shikũ (Kikuyu, Kenya – a respected matriarchal name)
These aren’t just abbreviations. They’re bridges. The root stays. The spirit stays. But it flows better in daily life; school registers, WhatsApp bios, playground introductions.
And yes, sometimes you’ll still hear, “How do you spell that?” But at least they’re asking. At least they’re learning. And let’s be honest, they manage “Tchaikovsky” just fine when it’s time for piano exams.
Culture Is Evolving and So Are the Names
Culture isn’t a museum. It breathes. It shifts. Our grandparents had names that told stories around the fire. Our children need names that can walk into a boardroom, perform at Glastonbury, and still carry home in them.
You can have:
A TikTok star named Olúwatóbilọpẹ́ (and call her Tobi for short)
A poet named Siphókázì performing in New York
A nurse in Leeds named Nolúwápẹ̀lúmí (Yoruba – “The Lord is with me”)
A tech founder called Kwásí (Akan – “born on a Sunday”)
Names evolve. But meaning stays.
You Don’t Have to ‘Westernise’ It
There’s no need to throw a Sarah or Ethan into the mix if that’s not your vibe. Culture doesn’t mean outdated. You can have a name that’s proudly African and still fresh.
Think:
Zola – popular, easy to say, and still rooted
Tari – Ijaw/Niger Delta, means love
Zuberi – Swahili, means strong
Kẹ́mí – Yoruba, short for names like Olúwakẹ́mí or Adékẹ́mí
You’re not being difficult by keeping your child’s name cultural. You’re giving them identity. And if the teacher stumbles? Help them. They’ll get it. If they can say Daenerys Targaryen, they can say Nnenna.
Give the Meaning, Not Just the Name
Don’t just name them. Tell them what it means. Let them grow up knowing. Let them be able to say it out loud when people ask.
“My name is Adora. It means daughter of all. It reminds me I belong to something bigger.”
When they know the meaning, they walk taller.
Reclaim What Was Ours
Colonialism made many of us swap names for safety. Our grandparents became Esther, Daniel, Grace. Beautiful names, but names that weren’t ours to begin with. Now we’re reclaiming. Not to shame the past, but to honour what we almost lost.
If your name still carries your culture, wear it boldly. If you’re choosing names now, choose ones that echo where you’re from.
Not because it’s trendy. But because it’s yours.
Name Them With Intention
You don’t need to follow trends. You don’t need approval. You just need meaning. Ask yourself:
What do I want my child to carry?
What prayer do I want in their name?
What story do I want their name to tell?
You’ll find it.
Maybe it’s a name your grandmother carried. Maybe it’s a new twist on an old word. Maybe it’s something only your village knows.
But if it has truth, give it.
Laugh if you must, cry if you need to, but keep parenting with heart. One honest story at a time.
With love, rice, and responsible parenting
- The African Parent
I love this and totally agree. Names are more than just labels, they carry lineage but I also believe they hold prophecy too.
I love all my names even Florence because it means both flower and fire (although it took me the longest to embrace). I paid special attention to my daughter's names because I wanted each of them to mean singing regardless of their linguistic root.
Thank you for sharing.