5.1. Male BPPNs
5.1.1. BPPNs as Social Control
Some BPPNs carry the illocutionary force of social control.
Mensah et al. (
2024) note that names can also be considered indispensable cultural emblems for facilitating social relations. BPPNs are used to regulate people’s behaviour and ensure that they live in accordance with societal expectations, as represented in
Table 1 below.
The name, Ű ké líná ű ngyá lé kibá ki tór yé, which translates roughly to ‘trouble seeker does not know that wound is painful’, forewarns people to stay away from trouble, as well as reminding them of the consequences thereof. The name embodies the name-giver’s perception of the other’s behaviour. Adugba, a 73-year-old participant, explained that he had a troublesome younger brother who gets into trouble very often. On one of those occasions, he was involved in a fight and got his arm fractured. The event coincided with the birth of the participant’s son, so he named his son Ű ké líná ű ngyá lé kibá ki tór yé. This name confirms how the Bette do not give names haphazardly; their names are rooted in their ethnic sensibilities and interaction with their sociocultural universe. For them, names are vital linguistic means of expressing a name-giver’s perspective on life. In this context, the name is intended to adjust a brother’s behaviour, to make him see why he has ‘to stay away from trouble’. Utonshi, 67 years old, affirmed that the name is used ‘to let people know that trouble is bad’. Utonshi further explained that he named his younger brother’s son Ű ké líná ű ngyá lé kibá ki tór yé to caution his brother’s wife, who was ‘too quarrelsome’ and behaved as though she ‘eats trouble before she sleeps’. Utonshi noted that there was a time when his brother manhandled his wife and gave her a black eye. Months later, when the same woman gave birth to a baby boy, the name that readily came to his mind was Ű ké líná ű ngyá lé kibá ki tór yé. Within the ethnic framework of the people, Ű ké líná ű ngyá lé kibá ki tór yé is used to dismantle untoward relationships with family members. Also, it is used to advance inclusive behavioural change that strengthens oneness.
Another BPPN that serves the function of social control and advocates behavioural change for the good of the community is Á shí dór ítíang (he did a proverb). The Bette, like many African people, often make comments with names. A name-giver narrated that he called his son Á shí dór ítíang because when he wanted to send his sister-in-law to university, his elder brother protested against the idea. The elder brother did not see the need to send a girl child, especially one that is not a relative, to university. He preferred that she learned a trade. However, the name-giver objected, insisting he was sending her to school to set a precedence and to also let the girl in question understand that it pays to be of good behaviour. The name-giver’s decision fractured the cordial relationship he had with his brother. So, to make his brother understand his action, he named his son Á shí dór ítíang. Owing to shared cultural scripts, the name makes sense to both the name-giver and the one the name was directed at.
Within the Bette ethnocultural context in which names are derived and meanings assigned to them, these names function as pragmatic tools of social control and mobilisation against injustice. For example, Bé kóng téndór (Be mindful of what you say) serves as a medium of social control; it admonishes one to be watchful of what they say and the manner they say what they know. This name draws from the people’s proverb: wó sháng hé ábeé wó bo, wó sháng hé ungwu, whu boh ye (if you slip with your legs, you will rise; but if you slip with your mouth/words, you will not rise). This proverb, which underscores the power of words, is used to advise people to bridle their tongues, for what is said cannot be retrieved. Akomaye (63 years old) narrated that he named his son Bé kóng téndór as an indirect message to his wife, who demeaned him when things were a bit tough for him. This serves as the name-giver’s advice to his wife to mind how she talks, for a speaker’s words, already registered in the hearer’s memory, can be used against the speaker in the future. As Akomaye puts it, ‘because we can’t see tomorrow, it is good for us to count our words. Now, I am doing well; can she take back what she told me years ago?’ Akomaye’s admonition is rooted in the people’s culture of mindfulness.
Similarly, Bé ndá lísú lé kȕkáh yé (rape is abominable) expresses the people’s abhorrence for rape. For them, sex is consensual. The people’s sexual euphemism, li ke bende, which means that sexual partners have to woo each other before sexual intercourse, underscores their disdain for any form of coercive sexual relationship. Adie, a 63-year-old participant, reported that rape is an unpardonable offence. Therefore, this name is given to a male child when a female member of the family was raped to archive the event and to admonish people to stay away from rape.
The name Áyádé bé ngiá kúshȕ yé (it is difficult to advise an all-knowing person) functions to checkmate unacceptable behaviour. In the local communicative practice of the Bette, this name is used to restrain people from assuming that they are all-knowing. The name emanates from the people’s gerontocratic practice, where decisions are collectively taken; so, anyone who does not listen or adhere to the community’s council is thought to exist at variance with the community’s ethos of oneness. The name Bé keé úshié hé kátél yé (do not expect justice from an enemy) details the name-giver’s response to the injustice he suffered in the past. Kisha, 45 years old, reported that he should have known that one cannot get justice from an enemy. From the name-giver’s account, he was not wise enough to know that his haters would never support him. According to him, he lost the case (land dispute) not because the land was not his but because he failed to advise himself not to seek justice from his haters. These names, thus, depict a metapragmatic correlation between the names and their bearers because the names reflect certain characteristics of the bearers, who are the ‘memory bearers’ of the name-givers’ history.
5.1.2. BPPNs That Are Used to Discourage Ingratitude
Our interactions with research participants revealed how some BPPNs communicate the name-giver’s resentment with other people’s attitude of ingratitude. Name-givers assign these names to their children as covert messages to addressees; these names are presented in
Table 2 below.
Names in this category depict the people’s abhorrence for ingratitude. For example, Ú shí kpé ibiá (He did good but got blamed) conveys a name-giver’s protest against his sibling’s act of ungratefulness. Amala, 70 years old, narrated that he named his son Ú shí kpé ibiá because of his stepbrother’s unappreciativeness of his kind gesture. In line with the people’s cultural practice, the first son or the eldest male-child of a family immediately assumes the role of a father after the demise of their father. So, in observance of this ethnic tenet, Amala made an effort to play the role of a father by sending his younger brother to school. He was pained that his sibling did not appreciate his effort. Ú shí kpé ibiá is thus an evaluation of his younger brother’s act of ungratefulness.
A confirmation of the fact that names express regrets can be seen in the proverbial name Á shí lìfeé ndé itung (He was not rewarded despite all he did). This name describes the name-giver’s regret for failing to save for the future. Agba, 76 years old, recounted that he named his grandson Á shí lìfeé ndé itung (in the Bette naming system, in the absence of a father, a grandfather, or an uncle can name a child) because he felt abandoned by his siblings’ children he sponsored in school. He regretted not heeding his wife’s advice to save money for himself and his children. His nephews’ and nieces’ failure to reciprocate his kind gesture, coupled with his inability to take care of his needs, gave rise to the name, Á shí lìfeé ndé itung, which literarily translates to ‘I slaved for others/them and now I am hungry’. The name-giver is covertly saying the following: ‘how foolish I was’. As a self-reflective name, the name-giver assesses the ill-treatment mated on him by his siblings’ children. The name-giver’s regret is further amplified in the following lament: ‘Even the one I took a loan to send to the UK has not called me for over ten years now’. This assessment brings about a feeling of regret. Like the name Ú shí kpé ibiá (He did good but got blamed), this name-giver’s regret stemmed from his inability to save for the future and for not noting his wife’s advice. It is instructive to mention that the name-giver’s act of sponsoring his siblings’ children is consistent with the people’s ethical precepts of life as captured in the proverb Ángwú á mb gie osie, u bon abor ukwan ke abe ye itan (He who has climbed to a fruitful tree, should pluck the fruits and throw to those who are down). It means that a family member who is richer (as explicated in the metaphor of a fruitful tree) than others should help in developing others. Within this cultural episteme, children, having grown up, are expected to reciprocate their parents’ or relatives’ kind gestures.
These names’ meanings and values emanate from the Bette people’s traditional concept of morality. Traditionally, the Bette upholds thankfulness as a virtue that must be practised and sustained. Ű shî ké bé zí (He is unrewarded in spite of his duty and diligence) expresses a name-giver’s resentment of his children’s unappreciativeness as demonstrated in their refusal to pay their step-siblings’ school fees. His children’s behaviour is antithetical to the people’s culture of oneness. When he had his second son from his second wife, the name that readily came to him was Ú shí ké bé zí. The name says ‘I have worked for you and now you are eating’. Similarly, Ű nàm ké bé zí (The farmer/provider goes hungry) can be used to articulate a name-giver’s displeasure with another person’s act of ungratefulness. Ubenye, a 54-year-old participant, named his son Ű nàm ké bé zí to respond to his first wife’s behaviour, who refused to give him food despite the fact that he was the provider. The name originated from the Bette traditional culture, where it is a man’s responsibility to provide for his family. In this cultural context, a man who fails to provide for his family is thought to be effeminate. Similarly, it is the woman’s role to cook for the family. However, the woman failed in this regard, as she did not cook for her husband. The woman’s act of ingratitude is indexed in the name Ű nàm ké bé zí, meaning that he ‘farms’ for his wife to eat while he goes hungry. A variant of this name is Ipéh i hwó be; it translates roughly as ‘praise has passed/overpowered them’. The name is a covert message to people who remain ungrateful despite one’s kindness (Awafung, 66 years old).
Also, Ú bén á ndó ipéh, á shí átuó á ngyór likór (Blame has rather come to me in place of appreciation for good gesture) is used to resist ingratitude. The name explains the people’s abhorrence for one’s failure to appreciate another person. The word likor, meaning unrewarded, captures the entire meaning of the proverbial name and registers the people’s disapproval of behavioural patterns that signal ingratitude. In line with the ethnopragmatic model, this name, like other BPPNs, underscores the Bette dislike for ingratitude. Kűkór kúshű kú biá kúndii yí (Relatives do not usually appreciate what they have but believe what others have is better and greater) is like the saying ‘the grass is greener yonder’. In those days, every compound had a grinding stone for kúndii (yam flour). However, people generally preferred taking their dried yam to their neighbour’s compounds on the ground that the one in their compound was not good enough. The name means that other members of the family hardly appreciate a relative’s pieces of advice.
5.1.3. BPPNs That Uphold Peaceful Coexistence
Certain BPPNs reflect the people’s culture of peaceful coexistence. These names are reflective of the name-giver’s perspective on life. Also, these names, presented in
Table 3 below, typify the importance of familial bonds.
Peaceful coexistence is a central ideology of the Bette, and they do everything humanly possible to nurture and preserve it. An elderly participant (about 104 years old, the oldest man in the community at the time this research was conducted) told these researchers that he named his son Á buú ndór ábé itàn (He left the land for the sake of peace) to record his migration from the compound he had resided with his brothers to where he was presently residing only to ensure that peace reigns between his brothers and himself. He was the first to leave his extended family compound. When he moved down and occupied a large expanse of land, he encouraged his two younger brothers to join him. Years later, one of the brothers started making trouble, so he left the compound for another place despite being the founder of the new space. The name, therefore, bears the name-giver’s memory as well as his desire for peace. The Bette proverb Ukwuó á swàn linaá, á kúng ánúng féh hé témm (For rejecting trouble/fight, the fowl decided to place its kneels behind its legs) epitomises the people’s deliberate effort to avoid trouble. This proverb derives its meaning from the people’s wrestling culture, where the knee is a core component of strength/power. A skilful wrestler can tactically place his knee to the ground and easily floor his opponent. The participant’s second son’s name, Bé kwú puú ki ngbéb hwò ápébálé (We are better off staying in peace than in trouble), is a furtherance of the people’s ideology of peaceful coexistence. This name advocates in-group maintenance. The name, which is also a response to his brother’s behaviour, characterises the name-giver’s philosophy, as well as the Bette sociocultural script that it is better for people to live together than to be alone.
Ikwún i blé línaá (Peace has turned trouble) also defines the people’s quest for peaceful coexistence. Within the people’s ethnic culture, the name, often shortened as Ikwún (peace), illuminates the unpredictability in human relationships such that a sudden twist in the affairs of persons, a sort of spark in relationships, can turn cordiality into hostility. The people generally use the name as a sort of advice or warning that people must be careful not to take the other for granted, for out of dearest of friends could come trouble. It advocates mindfulness and mutual respect for one another. A name-bearer explained that his father named him Ikwun because his father advised his younger brother to marry another woman since the first could not have children. When the second wife came and began to have children, she became very troublesome, and the name-bearer’s uncle blamed his elder brother for encouraging him to marry another woman. The name-bearer’s father’s piece of advice stemmed from the premium the Bette place on children. For the people, to be considered a ‘man’, one must have children. Contextually, the name expresses how the name-giver’s act of kindness resulted in creating bitterness between brothers who had lived peacefully. Embedded in the name is the idea that for peace, which the people value, to reign, individuals must be mindful of their actions. These names constitute hidden meanings—the essence of life, for the people, is when people coexist peacefully with one another.
5.1.4. BPPNs That Are Used to Construct Courage
The Bette extol valour and construct ‘manliness’ as synonymous with strength and toughness. Often, this cultural script of manliness is reflected in the way they name their male children, as exemplified in
Table 4 below.
The ethnopragmatic significance of valour, as extolled by the Bette, is articulated in the name Áyáng ú yiá űkòng. A sort of rhetorical question, the name implies the following: Let them do or say to us/me as they please, for their question is, who is there in that compound or family to question what we do or say to them? When read out of the context that circumstantiated the name, it will appear as a form of surrender or weakness on the part of the name-giver. However, a situationalised reading of the name indicates how one of our research participants deployed the name to caution his neighbours. They were fond of making demeaning comments about his family. So, he used the name to covertly say that his family is not as weak as the detractors think. The name offers insightful looks into the people’s naming practice: the people employ names to make fundamental statements about their existence. Closely related to the above name is Bé ndé kípí bé kóng, kishéll úgűgáh kítòr űhwé yé. Another participant mentioned that he named his son Bé ndé kípí bé kóng, kishéll úgűgáh kítòr űhwé yé, which roughly translates to ‘They have found the soft target about which everyone talks ill of’, to intimate his neighbours that he is not as easy as they think. This name can also be interpreted as ‘this is the pepper without the hotness of pepper, so they devour it anyhow’ (with their mouths/tongues). Contextually, the name-giver employed the name to simultaneously threaten and advise his detractors to rethink before they continue their bé kóng (talk/gossip). This suggests that the detractors should anticipate the seriousness of their unfavourable talks against him and his family. This name is born out of the honour a man derives in upholding the integrity of his family. According to the people’s cultural norm, it is unethical to think of another as a weakling.
One of our participants explained that the name Bétté bé wá úfúng (the Bette people are daring) dignifies the warrior identity of the Bette people, who are always full of anxiety as to the next step/s to take in order to outsmart their enemies. Specifically, the Bette man is always prepared for any eventuality. If a father names his son Bétté bé wá úfúng, he is evoking the name’s owner’s toughness. In most instances, such children grow into their names and become tough. For the people, toughness is a symbol of respect and acceptance, a reputable quality of a ‘man’; it defines how the man is socially accepted by his peers, other men, and even by women. Similarly, toughness is evoked in the name Úshú ú ndé ná bé kàm (It takes courage to manage a home). This name helps to spur the bearer to be resilient and to inform him that it is a manly quality to be in full control of his home. The name is meant to call the attention of the bearer to the difficulty involved in raising a family. A participant explained how difficult it can be to be in charge of a home and bring up responsible children. In line with the cultural values of the people, if a man’s children are not well-behaved, the man is considered to be a failure. Another name that eulogises valour is Ú keé úgáh ú ké lé lizí (It takes a strong man to feed his guests without complaining). This name, apart from amplifying bravery, enacts the people’s food culture and encourages the man to always provide food in abundance to whoever visits. So, to show that one is a ‘man’, he occasionally invites people to a feast where food and drinks are provided in abundance. When a man names his son Ú keé úgáh ú ké lé lizí, not only does he announce his generosity but also his wealth. For the Bette, one’s wealth is measured against the number of people one has, and it is an instinct of masculinity.
Ki shí fé undi kí wéh abwó yé (Life is generally characterised by challenges, so be courageous) is among the names that define the people’s celebration of courage. A name-giver (Unimke, 77 years old) told these researchers that in 1985, when General Mohammadu Buhari was overthrown, his yam barn was gutted by fire, all his pigs and goats died within two weeks, and his youngest wife left him. According to him, it was a difficult year, for he lost almost everything. The name emanates from the people’s disposition to life: they must not give up despite the trials they encounter. This means that one must be courageous because life is generally characterised by daunting challenges. Also, the name embodies the idea that it is only a weak person who gives up when they encounter trials. Importantly, the name eulogises the die-hard spirit of the Bette.
5.1.5. Death-Related BPPNs
Death-related BPPNs also perform archival roles in that they account for the worldview and the sociocultural reality of the name-giver (
Aboh et al. 2023) and also the people’s disposition towards infant mortality. Some death-related names are represented in
Table 5 below.
Like other BPPNs examined in this study, death-related BPPNs are circumstantial; they also function as indirect communication tools. A participant narrated that he named his son Undí ű mór há yé (Death is an inevitable end for all), who was born shortly after the demise of his father, to console himself. The name-giver reported that his father was his best friend, and whenever he thinks of the demise of his father, it ‘leaves a hole in my heart’. Undí ű mór há yé, in this context, performs a consolatory role since death is an unavoidable end for every mortal. Illuminating how the meaning of a name can best be understood in its context of use, another participant reported that he named his son Undí ű mór há yé (Death is an inevitable end for all) to remind his neighbours who were happy that he lost his son that everyone will die. The underlying meaning is that death is not reserved for a particular set of people; everyone, including his neighbours, ‘will go there’ (die). Death is metaphorically constructed as a journey that will be embarked upon by everybody.
Other proverbial death-related names express name-givers’ helplessness before death. Únaá ná liwhű lí gwú (Death is a destroyer of human’s labour/effort) depicts a name-giver’s lament over the death of his children, who die each time they become one year old. This participant (Akpika, 46 years old) lamented how he ‘was working’ only for death to kill. Únaá ná liwhű lí gwú, the name of the child who came after the death of four children, details his displeasure with death. When he had another boy, and out of the strong persuasion that he was merely keeping both children for death, he named him Ákpé kwú lihwű (He keeps it for death). He had a third son, who was about 5 years old, and a girl of about 3 years old at the time this interview was conducted. The participant named the third boy Lihwű lí tianábé (Death, be kind/merciful to us) as his empathetic appeal to death to allow his children to survive. The girl child was named Beshî-Unim (God’s mercy). This name symbolises his appreciation of God’s infinite mercy. Importantly, the man’s narrative coupled with the name Beshî-Unim details the people’s ethnoreligious identity; they believe that all the good things they possess come from Unim (God), just as any evil occurrence is thought to be the handiwork of the devil (Bewútàng). This belief system is articulated in the people’s names.
Apart from foregrounding the people’s perception of death, death-related anthroponyms function as death prevention strategies as well as appeal to death to be kind to the sufferer.
Lihwu li gwube (Death has killed them/us) and
Liwhú li hwó bé (Death overcame/overpowered them/us) show humans’ powerlessness before death and death as a powerful force that acts and directs the sequence of human events. One of the research participants bemoaned, ‘death dealt with me’. He recounted how his son died just a few days after he was offered admission to university. These names demonstrate how Bette naming practices interweave with their understanding of their social universe. Scholars have argued that death-prevention names are assigned to male children for two interwoven reasons. First, to deceive children’s underworld parents that such children were worthless and were not desired by their earthly parents (
Mensah 2015;
Akung and Abang 2019). Second, death-prevention names were given to male children because the mortality rate was higher with male children than female children. Also, the male-child is more valued than the girl child in some African cultural contexts (
Aboh 2018). This naming practice highlights how naming can be orchestrated to construct gender identity (
Mensah 2023a;
Aboh et al. 2024). These conclusions are arrived at by contextualising the ethnocultural meanings embedded in the Bette people’s onomastic capital that constructs the boy child as superior to the girl child.
5.2. Female BPPNs
In the Bette society, as is with some African societies, personal names can be deployed to construct gender identity. Gendering through naming manifests where particular sets of names are assigned to female children while others are preserved for male children. Mensah explains how names can be explored to exercise agency and to express gendered biases (
Mensah 2023b, p. 44). This perspective is further pursued in this section of this study; there is evidence of how BPPNs are deployed to construct gendered subjectivities by name-givers, as illustrated in
Table 6 below.
Bé kóng gim kùhwó (Be mindful of what you say) is a variant of the male name, Bé kòng téng ndór (Be mindful of what you say/how you talk). According to Akpanke, 56 years old, he named his daughter Bé kóng gim kùhwó as a message to his wife, who talks carelessly. Contextually, the name speaks indirectly, though polemically, to Akpanke’s wife, who is thought to be talking without restraint. Beyond its illocutionary act of admonition, Bé kóng gim kùhwó reminds the woman of her powerlessness both in her marriage and in the entire community she exits. The name is embedded with the culture of silence; in the Bette society, women are restrained from expressing themselves. The woman is often told to count her words, and it is an example of structured hegemony. In most instances, women are reminded that their stay in their marriages is predicated upon their ‘good behaviour’. Áténdór, an 86-year-old man, furthered this patriarchal ideology by noting that Bé kóng gim kùhwó can be assigned to a female child whose mother has a history of ‘talking like farting buttocks’, meaning that the woman talks without constraint. This name exemplifies how names can be used to reflect a wife’s negative character traits. According to Áténdór, the woman is expected to be well-behaved and talk less. Not only does Áténdór’s linguistic choices offer insights into how names can be positioned to silence the woman, but it also indicates how names can be calibrated to sustain gender-linked behaviour, where ‘good behaviour’, especially for women, is a precondition for her to enjoy her marriage.
Similarly, Áshi bé bóng yé (I am unappreciated despite all I do) is used to express a husband’s displeasure with his wife’s attitude of unappreciativeness. Akpanke, mentioned earlier, recounted that women are ingrates and are always complaining about everything. Akpanke explained that he named his daughter Áshi bé bóng yé because of his wife’s attitude of thanklessness. In line with Bette cultural practices, Áshi bé bóng yé provides the name-giver with broad cultural spectra for the expression of resistance to and discontent with a wife’s supposedly rude character.
An intriguing angle, perhaps, about these female BPPNs is that they represent the power tussle in marriages. In the Bette onomastic tradition, a woman does not name her child; her husband or a male relative does. However, a woman can name her child either
Bé kóng gim úhwó or
Áshi bé bóng yé to register her resentment of her husband’s negative behaviour. Yet, such names remain ‘home names’. That is, they are not officially recognised; they are only used by the woman, the name-giver. In most polemical homes where the man is aware that the name is directed at him, he does not identify the child by the name. The husband’s refusal to identify the child by the name entrenches male dominance. Thus, the name given by a woman is immaterial. As the girl child enrols in school and engages in other official activities, she is registered by the name given to her by her father. This naming practice defines the polemic nature of onomastic messages (
Batoma 2009, p. 223). In such a context, the child becomes the conveyor of the message emplaced in the name.
Another name that accounts for the interconnectedness between gender(ing) and nam(ing) practice is Bé zá kűnùng úngyé yé. Roughly translated as ‘they do not eat the beauty of a wife’, it means that good character is better than beauty. According to Ukah, an 88-year-old male participant, character is cardinal to humans’ survival and existence, and if a woman does not have good character, her beauty does not make any difference. The name-giver explained how he divorced a beautiful wife ‘whose mother did not train her well’. When he remarried and had a daughter, he named her Bé zá kűnùng úngyé yé to register how his former wife’s bad character was the reason he divorced her. Importantly, the name indirectly advises the girl’s mother to be of good behaviour, for good character is better than beauty. We see how the man’s naming intersects with gender identity construction and how the culture of the people is crystalised in their naming practice. These names underscore existing Bette patriarchal ideologies where men are considered to be different from and superior to women based on gendered roles. The names accentuate the fundamentally unequal power relation between men and women, sustain inequality and highlight the devaluation of women in the Bette ethnolinguistic context.