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My Name Was Never the Problem: Reclaiming Native Names and the Power of Remembering

  • Osemobor
  • Oct 29
  • 4 min read

Updated: Oct 31


The Hook: My Name Was Never the Problem


My name was never the problem — it’s how social conditioning made my environment react to it. The people around me just didn’t know how to honor it.


Hi, and welcome. If you’re new here, this space exists with one core mission: to minister the gospel of remembering.


In its truest sense, that means remembering who we are — and re-membering: to rejoin, reclaim, and realign with our ancestry and original way of being.


Because that’s where our real strength and our true freedom lives.




Silhouette of a person standing in radiant golden light surrounded by faint ancestral symbols, representing remembrance, ancestry, and the reclamation of native identity.

Owning My Indigenous Name


We’re still celebrating Native languages.


And if, like me, your first name comes from a native tongue — in my case, a native African language — but you grew up far from the continent, then what I’m about to share might feel all too familiar.


It wasn’t until my mid-twenties that I fully began to wear my Indigenous name with pride.It took years of unlearning, relearning, and realizing just how sacred and central to my identity it is.


Before that, it was just a name I tried to make easier for others; shortened, softened, or hidden behind nicknames.


My name is Osemobor

in English, it translates loosely to “It has reached my hand.”


It’s from the Esan language, a branch of the Edoid language family spoken in Nigeria, West Africa.


As with many words in native tongues, the English translation doesn’t capture its deeper meaning.


Osemobor means “What I waited for is here.”

It means I am desired. I am received with gratitude. I am manifestation.


It signifies arrival. The idea that what’s meant for me will find its way.

It’s a reminder that everything I am, everything I’m becoming, is already within reach.


My name gives me power and courage to move through the world. It roots me in authenticity. I am proud — and lucky — to carry a name with such deep meaning.


Why We Shorten Our Native Names


Many of us with Indigenous or African names have, at some point, felt pressure to make them “easier” for others. But why?


Here are a few of the deeper reasons:

1. Colonial Legacy & Cultural Conditioning

For generations, colonization and missionary influence taught that native names were “uncivilized,” “too hard,” or “unprofessional.”


That’s why many of our grandparents have English first names, even while being custodians of tradition. Their parents often believed these names would help them fit into Western norms.


Some were even forced to abandon their native names entirely.


That conditioning didn’t disappear; it was inherited. Passed down quietly through generations. Over time, we learned to pre-edit ourselves to avoid rejection in social and professional spaces.


2. Social Pressure & Assimilation

In classrooms or workplaces, we often hear:

“Can I call you something easier?”

“That’s too hard to pronounce.”


To avoid discomfort or othering, we conform — choosing nicknames, middle names, or Westernized versions.


It’s not always self-rejection; often, it’s self-protection.


3. Professional Bias

Research shows that resumes with “ethnic-sounding” names get fewer callbacks in Western job markets.


So people adapt, not because they dislike their culture, but because they want equal access to opportunity in systems coded with bias.


I’ve lived this myself. During university, I submitted identical resumes — one with my native name, one with a more 'Western' sounding nickname. The English-sounding version always got the callback. The difference wasn’t the skill, it was the name.




A key sitting in radiant golden light surrounded by faint ancestral symbols, representing remembrance, ancestry, and the reclamation of native identity.


Reclaiming Our Names: Why It Matters


Reclaiming your native name is not a small act. It’s powerful. It’s healing. It’s an act of resistance and remembrance.


Here’s why we must do it; boldly, fully, and without apology.


1. Your Name Is a Living Archive

Your name carries the memory of your people, their language, geography, spirituality, and worldview.


It’s not just a label; it’s a declaration.

To reclaim your name is to speak the wisdom your ancestors carried in sound.


2. Names Shape Self-Perception

Your native name connects you to the story you come from. When you understand its meaning, you begin to see yourself through that sacred lens.


You start walking differently when you know your name means “my wealth is imminent” or “my prayers have been answered.”


Your name becomes a mirror, a daily reminder that identity is sacred, not negotiable.


3. It Challenges Colonial Narratives

Reclaiming your name pushes back against centuries of systems that renamed Indigenous peoples.


It’s quiet but radical resistance; reclaiming your right to define yourself, in your own language.


What colonizers renamed, you get to rename back.


4. It Re-Educates the World

Each time you correct someone or pronounce your name with pride —you invite the world to expand its tongue and its empathy.


You remind others that diversity is not inconvenience; it’s enrichment.


5. It Heals and Honors

Many of our elders had to hide or alter their names to survive.When we reclaim ours, we honor the journey they couldn’t take.


We finish the cycle they began.


The Final Word: Your Name Was Never the Problem


Reclaiming your name isn’t nostalgia — it’s reclamation.


It’s declaring that your identity, language, and heritage deserve full respect and full space in this world.


Your name was never the problem.The world just needed to learn how to say it.


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