In Burundi, names tell story of tragedy and strife

The history of this battered nation can be told through names like these, given to reflect the world as parents see it at the time. Some hail historical moments or a child’s most conspicuous trait. But they can also deliver terse commentaries in an unsafe world.

“Names here are individual and have individual meanings,” says Philippe Ntahombaye, a university professor and linguistics expert in Bujumbura, the capital. “They can reflect a situation of conflict, but they can also serve as a means of dialogue — a means of resolving conflict.”

Like its neighbour, Rwanda, Burundi is a tiny country haunted by devastating bloodshed between two ethnic groups, majority Hutus and minority Tutsis. This land of breathtaking hills in the heart of Africa is recovering from a 1993-2005 civil war that killed many.

Every name has a story to tell.

Coffee dealer Charles Ntezahorigwa, an ethnic Tutsi, grew up in the 1950s in a rural area dominated by Hutus who wanted them to leave. “They used witchcraft against us and danced nude so our crops wouldn’t grow,” he said.

The hostile environment was borne out in his name — Nteza (“I’m expecting”), Kugwa (“To fall”), Ibara (“Something bad”), or, joined together, “I’m expecting something bad to happen.”

Tensions were also recorded in the names of his brothers and sisters: Nkinahamira (“I’m playing on quicksand”), Nicayenzi (I’m quiet, but aware I’m in danger”) and Bakanibona (“They’re planning bad things, but God will protect me”).

In Burundi’s fatalistic nomenclature, and in a language that can say much in a few syllables, there’s Barayampiema (“They’re not telling the truth”), Bangurambona (“They’re plotting against me”), Barandagiye (“They’re following me”), Nzobatinya (“I fear them”), Ndikumagenge (“I’m in danger”), Ntamahungiro (“There is no place to hide”).

“It’s a way to say to your neighbours, you know their intentions, their bad intentions,” he said.

A judge, who declined to be identified because of the sensitivity of the subject, said his Tutsi uncle had killed “many” Hutus in 1972, when a spasm of bloodletting shook the nation. His children carried the family name and were easily identifiable because of it. “People always said, ‘you’re the son of that guy, you did this and that to our family,’” the judge said. “So they all changed their names.”