For WNBA players of African descent, deciding what name to go by is a choice born of pride, preservation. It's a way to honor their heritage, assert their identity, and navigate the challenges of being recognized in a world that often struggles with pronunciation and respect. This article delves into the personal journeys of four such players, each with a unique story and perspective on their names.
Nneka Ogwumike: A Name of Affirmation
Nneka Ogwumike, a forward for the Los Angeles Sparks, shares her name's rich history. "Nnemkadi" means "mother supreme," "Chinwe" means "God gives," and "Ogwumike" means "warrior." This full name, she explains, is an affirmation, a declaration of her identity. However, she opted to go by "Nneka" during her professional career, a decision influenced by the desire to make others feel comfortable.
"I think what I loved about my name was that I’m not sure if there’s anyone else who has my name," she says. "My parents gave me something that’s incredibly unique." But this change also had underlying reasons. "I do feel, though, that we were groomed to be in a society where if you are different, you are to assimilate." Ogwumike's decision to use "Nneka" reflects a broader societal pressure to conform, even among those with strong cultural roots.
Tèmítọ́pẹ́ Fágbénlé: Navigating Pronunciation
Tèmítọ́pẹ́ Fágbénlé, a player for the Toronto Tempo, grew up in London but is of Yoruba origin in Nigeria. She chose to go by "Tèmi" instead of her full name, recognizing the challenges of pronunciation. "I think from the get-go, especially growing up in England, nobody could pronounce Tèmítọ́pẹ́ properly," she says. "In Nigeria, a lot of people just shorten their names anyway, so it’s not out of the norm." Tèmi is a more accessible version, easier for people to say and less likely to be butchered.
"I’ve considered using my full name for basketball rosters," she explains, "but I’m not having them butcher my name when they call it out in front of thousands of people in the stadiums." This decision is a practical one, aimed at preserving her identity while navigating a world that often struggles with cultural nuances.
Okikiola Iriafen: A Name of Wealth and Respect
Okikiola Iriafen, a player for the Washington Mystics, has a name that means "famous wealth" in Yoruba. Her parents chose this name with a vision of her future success. "My parents were very intentional with naming myself and my siblings things that will come to fruition," she says. Despite the name's male connotation, her father wanted her to bear it.
"Growing up, it’s always like you hate when there’s a sub coming in class because it always gets to your name and you’re like, oh, gosh, it’s me," she recalls. But she has always loved her name and never felt ashamed. "I’ve always had a healthy relationship with my name," she says, "but growing up it was harder for people to say it."
Eziyoda Magbegor: Carrying a Legacy
Eziyoda Magbegor, a player for the Seattle Storm, was named after her grandmother, who passed away at 103 years old. "It’s very important to me to carry her name on," she says. "When she passed away that was something that I told my dad. I know how much she meant to him."
"Ezi" is a concise version of her full name, which not many people could pronounce. "I think growing up in Australia, not a lot of people could pronounce my full name," she explains. "And so it was just concise."
Ndjakalenga Mwenentanda: A Name of Luck and Respect
Ndjakalenga Mwenentanda, a free agent, has a name that means "a gift of luck" in the Luba tribe of the Democratic Republic of Congo. Her mother chose this name with a belief in its blessings. "When somebody’s calling your name, they’re sort of blessing you in a sense," she says.
Growing up in the Midwest, she faced challenges with her name's unfamiliarity. "Having to deal with some kids not really respecting the fact that my name is Ndjakalenga, not Jackie or such, it wasn’t like I was bullied or anything," she says. "But sometimes there were just some people who would either just not call me anything or they would shorten my name."
Despite these challenges, she remains proud of her name. "I want people to be able to respect who they are and be able to have that self-confidence and not feel like they have to minimize themselves for the comfortability of others," she says. "I know, especially in the job realm, you may have some people who may pass up on you because of your name, but those opportunities aren’t meant to be."
These stories illustrate the complex relationship African-descended WNBA players have with their names. It's a balance between pride, preservation, and the practical considerations of a world that often struggles to pronounce and respect them. Ultimately, these players are choosing to embrace their names, not just for themselves but for the broader community they represent.
