You say your African name and the quick reply is “Sorry, could you repeat that?”
This familiar phrase rings loudly in many spaces for Africans living abroad. Suddenly, what you regarded as a beautiful declaration of identity & meaning, becomes a stumbling block, a punchline, or even a professional liability.
You wonder whether you should keep your full African name, or shorten it to something more palatable. Not only in classrooms and on job applications, but around conference tables. It is all about navigating the tension between authenticity and assimilation.
Today, we explore this journey, and the cultural crossroads, where the syllables of a name carry stories of belonging, resilience, and survival.
What Is In An African Name?
Oluwadamilola landed in New York for university, and carried her name like a crown. It meant “God has blessed me with wealth”, but apparently the world around her wasn’t ready.
Staff fumbled her name, and classmates tried not to giggle. The constant mispronunciations chipped away at her enthusiasm, and she eventually gave in. “Just call me Dami,” she’d say, with a practiced smile.
It worked, as conversations began to flow. But something quietly ached, even though introductions had become seamless. Her mother still called her Oluwadamilola, a gentle reminder of who she truly was. In those moments, she felt like she was reclaiming a fragment of herself.
Her experience echoes that of countless Africans abroad, whose names are trimmed, twisted, or lost altogether in the idea of fitting in. Behind every abbreviation lies a story of identity, resilience, and the quiet cost of belonging.
The African Name Debate
In many African cultures, a name is more than a label. It’s a blessing spoken into existence, like a prayer or prophecy, connecting generations. To alter it can feel like severing a lifeline to one’s roots.
Yet for Africans living abroad, that special connection is often pulled by the realities of daily life. Mispronunciations become routine, and job applications simply vanish into silence.
Research has also shown that names perceived as “ethnic” can reduce callbacks, subtly shaping the path of opportunity. Faced with these barriers, many simply adopt Western nicknames as a strategy for survival.
Some Africans feel that reclaiming their full name is an act of empowerment, or a declaration of self. For others, a simplified name brings relief, showing a way to move through the world without friction. Both choices reflect the quiet balancing act of dual identity-the desire to belong without erasing where you come from.
Even within diaspora communities, the pressure can be intense. “Why did you change your name?” someone might ask. “Don’t you love your culture?” As if adaptation were betrayal, and not a deeply personal negotiation between pride and practicality.
This is the lived experience of many—where every syllable carries history, and every choice speaks volumes.
Navigating The African Name Dilemma
It can be a delicate dance to navigate life abroad with a culturally rich name. However, instead of replacing your name, try teaching it.
Break it down syllable by syllable—O-lu-wa-da-mi-lo-la—with patience, and a touch of humour. Do it with the confidence that comes from knowing your name is a story worth telling.
In fast-paced environments, nicknames like “Dami” or “Chi” can be practical tools. They offer easy interactions without erasing identity.
But let your full name shine in spaces that matter, such as on LinkedIn, in professional bios, and during public introductions. It’s a quiet declaration of pride, a way of saying, This is who I am, and I belong here.
Of course, not everyone will get it right the first time. Some will stumble, not out of disrespect, but genuine difficulty. Meet them with grace, but stand firm. You can be kind without compromising.
And remember, this isn’t just about you. For children born abroad, your comfort with your name becomes a lesson in self-worth. When they see you embrace your identity, they learn to honour theirs.
Your name is more than a label. It’s legacy and language. Let it speak.
Your Name Is Your Narrative
It is clear that or some, shortening a name represents survival; for others, it feels like surrender. What matters is that you decide what your name means abroad.
Oluwadamilola is still Dami in New York, but every time she signs an email with her full name, she smiles—knowing she carries both worlds within her.
Should you change your name abroad? Maybe the better question is: How will you carry your identity, whether your name is pronounced right or not?
What’s your experience with your name abroad? Did you shorten it, change it, or keep it proudly intact? Share your story in the comments below.
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