Lighten up, black compatriots, it’s a shame what you name
DEAR Black South Africans, I read with interest your tweets on #TheYearWeMispronounceBack – how you plan to tell the Daniellas of this world “I’ll just call you Dalindyebo” when they introduce themselves to you.
While the tweets were hilarious, with some of you vowing to dismiss Carly as Kgati and Annamarie as Awunamali, I remembered that some of you black South Africans are as guilty of misspelling and mispronouncing your fellow blacks’ names as whites do – shamelessly so.
So, before you jump on #TheYearWeMispronounceBack bandwagon, ask yourself if you can pronounce Kgololosego without breaking out in a sweat and looking like you’re about to choke from a mouthful of hot baked potatoes.
How about a simple name like Lerato? How many of you replace the R with L? The ANC Lekgotla. How many of you say Ligutla?
You can’t be throwing daggers at white people for changing Lerato’s name to Leeraaaay-tooou when you yourself call her Lelato without batting an eye. And how many of you replace the Q in Xolani with Kh, completely changing the meaning of an isiXhosa name by turning it into an isiZulu word?
Don’t get me wrong, I understand you are tired of being called En-cour-bella when your parents named you Ngcobile.
But it really is hypocritical of you to be joining the #TheYearWeMispronounce- Back movement when you hide behind the “I grew up in KwaZulu-Natal and was not exposed to other languages until I relocated to Johannesburg 15 years ago” when called out on your own tendency to botch fellow black people’s names.
Before you throw daggers at white South Africans with the hashtag #TheYearWeMispronounceBack, think back to when you waved a fellow South African off, dismissing their names as difficult.
Think back to the time Qhonqholotsane, Azwimmbavhi, N ungufhadzeni, Vuthlari and Matlhogonolo introduced themselves to you? What did you do? Waved them away and dismissed their names as difficult, didn’t you?
Or like some white people, you probably asked: What’s the shorter version of your name, or do they call you Omphitlhetse at home?
Yes, black South Africans have asked me that and like white people, they have pronounced my name as Uumpitsitse, Oumpheeethets or Oompitlets. No, I’m not making this up. My name is not only butchered in verbal conversations.
You see, dear South African, your fellow black brothers, just like our white brothers and sisters, have a tendency to write my name on e-mail as Omphithretse, Oompihtlts, Ompiltsethse, or Omphiytsetse… or whatever letters they can scramble together.
This despite the fact that my name is spelt out as Omphitlhetse on my e-mail address, the e-mail address they did not have to write out since they would be responding to my e-mail.
Before you say “well… your name is too long” or “your name is a mouthful”, how about my surname? Mooki – five letters.
White people have long butchered this simple surname, changing it to Mookie in both verbal and written communication.
But then my black brothers and sisters who declare their Africanness on social media have called me Moiki, Moeki or Muoki with no care in the world or even some courtesy to ask how best to pronounce my surname.
You make great efforts to pronounce Italian, French and English names so why can’t you do the same with African names.
Remember the time when rhino-poaching kingpin Chumlong Lemthongthai was convicted and sentenced? Yes, that man with a real tongue-twister for a name? News readers read the name with ease, having taken time to practice and master the pronunciation.
Some social media users even spelled out the name on your time-lines. But why can’t we do the same for Motshekga and stop calling her Mochega? Are you aware that you’re insulting her? No, because you don’t know what Mochega means.
So, until you can pronounce Azwimmbavhi properly and stop dropping the K in Kgotla, I think the best thing to do right now would be to grab a chair, load data on your phone and just be a spectator to the #TheYearWeMispronounceBack movement.