What’s in a Name

ROMAN MARS: This is 99% Invisible. I’m Roman Mars. 

About five months ago, producer Kim Chakanetsa opened up a file that was sent to her by her Uncle Manu. It was an Excel spreadsheet of Kim’s family tree, a project her uncle had been working on for the last several years. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: So far, there are about 300 names on there, tracing our family’s history deep into pre-colonial Zimbabwe, the country where I was born. Ours is a typically large Zimbabwean family. My great-grandfather had two wives and 15 children, and all of them went on to have a minimum of three kids each. Soon I’ll be adding a new name to the spreadsheet and upping our family grand tally because I’ll have my first child. So I’ve been thinking a lot about names. My family tree seemed like a good reference point. My family is predominantly Shona, which is the biggest ethnic group in Zimbabwe. And as I went through it, I was seeing all of the greatest hits–the classics when it comes to Shona names: Tapiwa, which means we’re being given, Ruvimbo, which translates to faith or trust, and Munyaradzi, which means to console. There were also English names–common ones–like Ruth, Gladys, and Lewis. 

ROMAN MARS: But then Kim started to notice a whole other set of Western names. Actually to English speakers outside Zimbabwe, they aren’t so much names as they are just words. She saw one family member who was named Suffer–another named Medicine. One of her many uncles was named Beer.

KIM CHAKANETSA: Outside of the country, these kinds of names are rather unusual. But to me and millions of other Zimbabweans, these are fairly standard. What might surprise me is if I were to come across a boy called NoMatter or Memory or Privilege because these are typically regarded as girls’ names. 

TANAKA CHIDORA: I have an uncle called Lovemore, and I have a aunt called Loveness. Godknows is quite popular, too. I went to school with Anymore, Talkmore, Passmore, Givemore, Wakemore… All of these were in my class. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: Tanaka Chidora is a Zimbabwean writer, poet, and academic. 

TANAKA CHIDORA: Almost everyone in Zimbabwe has a relative with such a name–almost everyone–to the extent that, when I was growing up and I was called Tanaka, I was wondering, “Why didn’t they also give me a name like Lovemore?” Almost everyone around me had such a name. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: If you were born in Zimbabwe, like Tanaka and me, especially in the last few decades, you would have heard these kinds of names all around you. But outside of the country, when people hear us say, “Hi, my name is Norest, Psychology, or Talkmore,” there are usually questions, comments, and jokes. Much of the ribbing is from other Africans, but it also comes from Zimbabweans themselves, who, although used to these names, will still raise the occasional eyebrow. 

LEARNMORE JONASSI (STAND-UP): My name is Learnmore. You know, this is a Zimbabwean thing. We have names like this in Zimbabwe–Learnmore, Givemore… When I was growing up, my best friend’s name was TakeItEasy…

[CROWD LAUGHTER]

ROMAN MARS: Learnmore Jonassi is a Zimbabwean stand-up comedian who has gotten a lot of mileage out of his given name. Compared to Zimbabwean names like Hatred, Strongman, or Beat Them, the name Learnmore might seem mild, but he has not been spared mockery, which he began to discover when he started traveling outside of Zimbabwe. There was this one encounter at the South African border. 

LEARNMORE JONASSI: As soon as the immigration officer took my passport, she was just like, “Oh. Your name is Learnmore?” And I was like, “Yes.” She’s like, “Wow!” And she called all her other immigration officers. She’s just like, “Look! Guys! Zimbabweans are crazy!” It just kind of made fun of that a little bit. But I was like, “Why is that? I’ve never had this before.” 

KIM CHAKANETSA: I have friends from all over Africa who look at these names with a mix of amusement and curiosity, but also, sometimes, ridicule. A guy I once met from Botswana described Zimbabweans as being “too whitewashed,” pointing to our names as a prime example. Why were we going for these bizarre English names instead of choosing them in Shona, Ndebele, Tonga, or any one of our many other indigenous languages. Zimbabwe had such a uniquely dark experience under British colonialism. And it’s not easy to square that with us choosing these bold, head-turning English names. 

ROMAN MARS: Of course, the Shona aren’t the only ones who make single names out of religious expressions or big sentence-long ideas. People do this all over the world. Linguists even have technical terms for them, like “sentential names” and “theophoric names.”

KIM CHAKANETSA: But I can’t think of anywhere that goes as big and as creative as we do in Zimbabwe. As I read my family tree, skimming across names like Polite, Clever, and Admire, I did start to wonder, “Why do we choose names like this?” It’s so common that, in other parts of Africa, people will automatically know that you’re Zimbabwean. 

ROMAN MARS: The reason these names became so quintessentially Zimbabwean goes way back, before there was even a country called Zimbabwe. 

TANAKA CHIDORA: In our Shona culture, names were meant to communicate. Names were like WhatsApp statuses. 

ROMAN MARS: Just like people today use their WhatsApp statuses to celebrate, brag, and reflect in front of their communities, Tanaka Chidora says Shona names traditionally did something similar. Those names carried the stories of parents’ hopes, dreams, and worries. 

TANAKA CHIDORA: Names were careers of our aspirations, our achievements, our grievances, our tribulations… 

KIM CHAKANETSA: Just to note that although there are many other ethnic groups in Zimbabwe, I’ll be focusing on the Shona. Within the culture, names could also be used to chide, insult, or even settle scores. For example, Tanaka says a mother who finds her in-laws to be troublesome might name her daughter, Netsai, which means to bother or to nag. 

TANAKA CHIDORA: A man who has gone through lots of problems could give the name Nhamo to his son. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: Nhamo means misfortune or hardship. 

TANAKA CHIDORA: They were meant to communicate to us and to our neighbors that this is who we are. This is what we have achieved. These are the problems that I’m going through right now. 

ROMAN MARS: Names could be a plea to ancestral spirits for guidance and protection. They could express future desires and imminent fears. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: Zimbabwean academic Ignatius Mabasa remembers the saga behind how one of his great-uncles got his name. The story goes that, one night, before his uncle was born, a family member ran off with his neighbor’s wife. Her husband threatened to get revenge by burning down the entire village–the same village, Mabasa says, where his uncle’s parents lived. 

IGNATIUS MABASA: So they had to escape and run away. They sought refuge with some relatives who were living far away. And so that was the very same night that he was born. And he became Tichapondwa, which means “We will be murdered.”

ROMAN MARS: For the Shona, this way of choosing and giving names–in fact, their entire way of life–was turned upside down starting in the late 19th century. The British diamond magnate, Cecil John Rhodes–I’m going to pause for booing… 

[BOOING]

ROMAN MARS: Enters the story here. He played a major role in establishing South Africa’s colonial government and began plotting to set up a similar colony to the north. 

CECIL RHODES MOVIETONE: This was the country which he brought under the British crown and formed into a British colony… 

KIM CHAKANETSA: Rhodes financed the British invasion of territory occupied by the Ndebele and Shona people–territory that Europeans nonetheless felt was theirs for the taking. 

CECIL RHODES MOVIETONE: Wild lands in the heart of Africa, which his vision pictured as the home of a thriving, prosperous people, but populated at that time only by wild beasts and roving tribes… 

KIM CHAKANETSA: In 1895, after a brutal war, British settlers created a new colonial state named after Rhodes himself. 

ROMAN MARS: Rhodesia was established as a so-called settler colony, which is exactly what it sounds like. Large groups of British settlers took the land by force, establishing their own government and steamrolling over the Africans who lived there. 

ENOCENT MSINDO: It was a total attempt at transforming a whole people. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: Enocent Msindo is a Zimbabwean historian. 

ENOCENT MSINDO: It’s an attempt to change people’s identities–an attempt to force people to either hybridize or mimic particular ways of doing things, doing justice, particular ways of dressing, language…

ROMAN MARS: White Rhodesians seized the cattle of indigenous farmers, burned their crops, and locked Africans into a tax system that was tantamount to slavery. Whites got access to the best jobs, while Africans were forced into low-wage labor in mines or on farms. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: Under this new racial hierarchy, English became the language of power. Africans had to adapt. Being able to speak it as an African granted you a little more access, perhaps a slightly higher position on the farm or on the factory floor. 

ROMAN MARS: That meant that ancient traditions began to take a backseat to the more immediate realities of colonialism. Shona naming practices–where parents gave names that told stories and were meant to shape their children’s destinies–those were becoming less common. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: Ignatius Mabasa says at times people would find that their name was considered too difficult by the employer, so they were given another one. 

IGNATIUS MABASA: “My name is Tirivangani.” “Oh, that’s too long. That’s too long. Can I call you Peter?” So you have a period–probably say from the 1920s going up–most of the names that you have among indigenous people are names that are being derived from the association with the white population. You know, so I’m working with Mr. Brown. I’ll go and give Mr. Brown’s name to my son. If Mr.Brown has children, I’ll also give names of Mr. Brown to my children. 

ROMAN MARS: One of the driving forces in the replacement of Shona names with English ones was the church. Christian missionaries descended on the region, setting up churches, hospitals, and schools all over the colony. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: Some of those missionaries encouraged Ignatius Mabasa’s grandmother to come to school. Eventually she was baptized. And with that came a name change. 

IGNATIUS MABASA: My grandmother, Mazvirega, became Emma. And her brother–Simbarekutaya–baptized John. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: Mazvirega, or Emma, would eventually give birth to a son who was baptized and called Augustine. He in turn had a son named Ignatius. Similar naming choices were being made at the exact same time by Africans throughout the colony. 

ROMAN MARS: Shona names did not disappear, but they were mostly just used at home. In public, at school, or at work, English names dominated. 

For the first half of British rule in Rhodesia, Africans did this dance, choosing Western names in order to navigate the colonial system. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: But starting in the 1960s, the country would experience enormous political upheaval. After rebellion, and then a revolution–back-to-back–it emerged a different nation with a very different set of names. Africans would begin turning back to Shona and other indigenous languages and choosing names that were charged with political resistance. 

ROMAN MARS: This pushback started when white settlers staged their own resistance by deciding that Rhodesia would no longer be a British colony. 

IAN SMITH SPEECH NARRATION: The people of Rhodesia will not be hindered in our determination to continue exercising our endowed rights… 

ROMAN MARS: Led by Prime Minister Ian Smith, Rhodesia declared its independence from Great Britain in 1965. 

IAN SMITH SPEECH NARRATION: We do, by this proclamation, give to the people of Rhodesia the constitution annexed here, too. God save the Queen… 

KIM CHAKANETSA: White settlers in Rhodesia had invented their own identity, calling themselves “Rhodies.” And they were living a very comfortable life. They had good jobs, houses with swimming pools, staff to keep it all running, plus excellent weather. 

ROMAN MARS: Thanks to an aggressive “Come to Rhodesia” ad campaign that beckoned to white people in Europe and the U.S., the settler population swelled to about 273,000. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: But this was a tiny minority compared to the roughly 6 million Black Africans in Rhodesia, many of whom had been forced off their land by the settlers. Those Africans had hoped to participate in Rhodesia’s government. But when the colony declared itself independent, it became clear that this new nation would be run exclusively by the white settlers. For the Africans, this was the last straw. 

IGNATIUS MABASA: They began to suddenly have their eyes open. “Wow. Oh, so we are oppressed. Oh, so, we also have a culture. We have a language. We have a right to be– Oh, this is actually our land.”

KIM CHAKANETSA: They were witnessing this massive wave of independence movements sweeping across the continent in the mid-60s. Inspired and emboldened, Africans in Rhodesia turned from assimilation to full-scale open rebellion, everything from attacks against the state launched by insurgent and nationalist groups, to the symbolic shedding of European names and returning to African ones. 

IGNATIUS MABASA: They start giving names that address or speak to this situation of being oppressed. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: People were choosing assertive, statement-making Shona names. Leading the charge were nationalist leaders, who took on names like Teurai Rhopa, which means “To spill blood,” and Chibwechitedza, which is hard to translate, but basically suggests someone who cannot be moved. Ignatius says one of his uncles was given a name that reflected this growing sense of defiance. 

IGNATIUS MABASA: His full name was Tichatonga Mabhunu. “We will eventually rule over the whites.” What a name.

ROMAN MARS: Coming up, Zimbabwe wins its independence. And with that, the nation’s culture of big, bold names really takes off. That’s after the break… 

[AD BREAK]

ROMAN MARS: After 15 years of war with the white Rhodesian government, Africans finally won their independence in 1980. They renamed their country Zimbabwe. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: Zimbabwe was one of the last former colonies to win independence. After watching its neighbors struggle to figure out what to do with their colonial legacies, Zimbabwe’s new government decided the best approach was to go very slowly. And this spirit of gradualism would even inspire a shift in Zimbabwe’s naming culture. 

ROMAN MARS: The new prime minister was a man named Robert Gabriel Mugabe. There is a lot to say about him and his complicated legacy, but the Mugabe of 1980 embodied the moment. He was a revolutionary leader and an icon of anti-colonial resistance. But he also was a missionary-educated man who spoke crisp English and was known for his love of cricket and impeccably tailored Savile Row suits. 

ENOCENT MSINDO: There is that saying that Mugabe was more English than the British.

KIM CHAKANETSA: This is historian Enocent Msindo. 

ENOCENT MSINDO: The political leadership of the time was more English than the English. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: As prime minister, Mugabe encouraged gradualism. There was land redistribution, but it was small scale. New schools were built, but many of them continued to mirror the British system. 

ROMAN MARS: Other colonial flourishes remained, too. African judges insisted on wearing powdered horsehair wigs. And English held firm as the official language in education, government, and just about every other part of civic life in Zimbabwe. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: But as the country was figuring out its new identity–what to keep and what to shed–one of the main places where Zimbabweans could really experiment and push boundaries was names. 

GIVEMORE SHONHAYI: We’re talking of a free Zimbabwe. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: Givemore Shonhayi is a Zimbabwean academic. 

GIVEMORE SHONHAYI: So, we’re also free to do whatever we want with the language as long as it satisfies what we want to do with the names. We can break the rules. We are not free. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: After nearly a century of repression–of being told what you could or could not do–it was in this new free Zimbabwe that the culture of wild experimentation and play with names really took off. As power shifted into the hands of Zimbabweans, so did they sense that they were able to do whatever they wanted with English. Yes, it was still the dominant language, but now Africans were in control, free to remix and Shona-fy their names as they liked. 

GIVEMORE SHONHAYI: I will not just pick a name like “Obey, like “Together,” like “Collide”–that’s too easy. Now we can add a verb, a determiner, an adjective, and compound and come up with a name. Now I can go and even express myself more and say, Godknows or Moreblessing or Gladmore or Whatsmore, playing around with English and making it even more complicated. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: This meant that a name like Hazvinei, which conveys a message of acceptance and resilience in Shona, got translated to Nomatter. 

ROMAN MARS: They were also taking names inspired by the Bible, like Grace and Faith and Mercy, and translating them into Shona, which was new. These words were never used as names in Shona before. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: My younger brother’s name is Kuzivakwashe, which is a popular Shona name. After independence, you started to see more of its English translation, which was Godknows. I would bet that most Zimbabweans know of at least one Godknows. 

It’s been 45 years since independence, and these names are everywhere. There’s a famous ex-footballer, Havealook Dube, and a politician named Welshman Ncube. A friend in Harare once had to call the police, and the officer who showed up introduced himself as Inspector Breakfast. We weren’t sure if his first name was Breakfast or Inspector. When I was researching the story, I came across one of several online forums posing the question, “What is the strangest Zimbabwean name you’ve heard?” There were all sorts of submissions–names like Hardlife and Lieutenant–most of which I could hazard a guess to their backstory. But there was one name on there that I was especially curious about. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: Please could you start by introducing yourself? Tell us who you are. 

MOREPRECISION MUZADZI: My name is Moreprecision Muzadzi. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: Moreprecision Muzadzi is a politician based in Zimbabwe’s capital, Harare. His name is a nod to the work his father did for decades. 

MOREPRECISION MUZADZI: My father worked for British-American Tobacco for almost 30 years. He was working as a machine operator. So, in that department, there was a lot of equipment which was manufactured by precision engineering. So that’s where he got the idea of naming me. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: The fact that his name was in this online forum full of Zimbabweans suggests that it’s seen as unusual, even by our own creative naming standards. 

MOREPRECISION MUZADZI: My name is something that I really love and adore, and I cherish and I treasure it. Everywhere I go, people actually are curious to say, “What’s your name again?” My name has got meaning. It’s not a meaningless name. It means being accurate to the point in whatever I do. So it kind of inspires me to do the right thing. 

ROMAN MARS: In the last two decades, Zimbabwe’s economy has been in collapse. Record-breaking inflation forced millions to leave and fan out across the globe. This means that the rest of the world has had a lot more exposure to Zimbabwe’s unique naming conventions. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: These unique names have also gotten much more attention outside of Zimbabwe thanks to social media, especially TikTok, where they are a popular punchline. 

MANLIKETATS: Which African countries have the weirdest names? [SIGHS] Zimbabwe. I know someone whose name is Gearbox. Gearbox! 

CEE_NYASHA Let me tell you what they do in Zimbabwe. I met someone called Anything…

ROMAN MARS: This is all mostly in good fun, but Tanaka Chidora worries that the social media roasts, plus the mass exodus out of Zimbabwe, could one day spell the end of a unique naming culture. 

TANAKA CHIDORA: We are now aware, for example, of what the world out there thinks of us because of our names, right? And to tell you the truth, most of the smart parents now, when they have children, are also thinking of where the children will go when they grow up. 

KIM CHAKANETSA: Tanaka says he’s seeing parents opting for names like Jaden, Jordan, and Kayden–the kinds of names inspired more by reality TV stars and premier league footballers than by the New Testament. 

TANAKA CHIDORA: Most Zimbabweans have now what we can call an “outward orientation.” They are saying, “When my children go and live outside Zimbabwe, I want them to carry a name that does not bring laughter.”

LEARNMORE JONASSI: For a long time I really didn’t like the name Learnmore. 

ROMAN MARS: Zimbabwean stand-up comedian Learnmore Jonassi started to have reservations about his name when he found out the story behind it. 

LEARNMORE JONASSI: Because my mother was young when she had me. So my name was a message to my mother to always remind her to learn more from what she had done, you know? So, for like a week, actually, my name was Realized. They actually named me Realized. And then they realized, “No. No, that’s too much–too on the nose. Let’s name him Learnmore.”

KIM CHAKANETSA: When Learnmore first started performing around the world, he used the stage name Long John the Comedian. But privately, when he’d share his real name, people were eager to hear about his origins. 

LEARNMORE JONASSI: Learnmore is a Zimbabwean story. So that’s when I went back to my actual name, instead of a stage name. And then I started calling myself Learnmore. And it’s a conversation starter. As soon as I introduce myself, everybody wants to know why. And that’s my way to start educating people, you know?

KIM CHAKANETSA: But Learnmore says we shouldn’t be shying away from names like his, which are hard won and tightly stitched into the fabric of who we are as a country. 

LEARNMORE JONASSI: Our names are very unique, and they come from a real place. So, honestly, if you have a name like that, if you come from Zimbabwe, just be proud of it because it’s a story. We are all unique. We are a very unique little country. And we should be proud of it. And I am!

KIM CHAKANETSA: My relationship to these names has shifted over the years. For a long time, they felt foreign–not really ours. But as I’ve come to understand them better, I can appreciate the history that led us to them–the Zimbabwean-ness of them. When it came to naming my child, I wanted one that did what our names have done for generations, whether in Shona, Ndebele, or Zimbabwean English. I wanted a name that told the story. Every year in Zimbabwe, you have a long dry season. And when it finally rains, everything changes. The landscape is green and lush. It’s completely transformed. My son came after a long wait. His name is Yanaya, which in Shona means “The rain has come.”

ROMAN MARS: 99% Invisible was produced this week by Kim Chakanetsa, and edited by Christopher Johnson. This episode was mixed by Martin Gonzalez, with music by Swan Real and George Langford. Fact checking by Nidia Bautista. Special thanks this week to Trust Samende and Adam Hutchings. Kathy Tu is our executive producer, Kurt Kohlstedt is the digital director. Delaney Hall is our senior editor.

The rest of the team includes Chris Berube, Jayson De Leon, Emmett Fitzgerald, Vivian Le, Lasha Madan, Kelly Prime, Joe Rosenberg, Jeyca Medina Gleason, Talon and Rain Stradley, and me, Roman Mars. The 99% Invisible logo was created by Stefan Lawrence.

We are part of the SiriusXM Podcast Family, now headquartered six blocks north in the Pandora building… in beautiful… uptown… Oakland, California. 

You can find us on all the usual social media sites, as well as our new Discord server. There’s a link to that, as well as every past episode of 99PI, at 99pi.org.