As a girl growing up in Monrovia, I knew a thousand people with a thousand different names: Johnson, Yarkpawolo, Ojuku, Fayiah, Benson, Dukuly, Freeman, etc. There were traditional names, names considered to be “Congo,” and just outright strange names that didn’t even “sound Liberian.” It is an immature and inappropriate culture in Liberia to be made fun of if your name was considered “ugly.” So the Flomos, Yarkpawolos and Kollies were amongst those getting laughed at because of their names. Whatever the case was, everybody had a family name. Mine was Sirleaf and yes, like Liberia’s first female President.
I was never made fun of as a kid for my name. I was amongst those “fortunate” to have the “Congo” name so I had it easy throughout high school, where kids are bullied for literally everything. On top of that, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf becoming President only added to the glamor of the name. I was told on so many occasions that the President was my aunty and blah, blah, blah, and I can honestly say I didn’t try to correct people cause I enjoyed the feeling that came with being imaginarily related to a whole President (I know, cringey).
When I started my first year of high school, there was this really shy kid in my grade. He was a new student and he had friends, but most days he would come to school and spend the entire day at his desk not really talking to anyone, and would leave immediately when school was out. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to make friends with him, so that’s what I did. One day, when I heard the bell for lunch hour, I walked up to him, sat down, and started small talk. I was immediately attracted to him. As if God needed a laugh, when I asked him for his name, he said “Marcus Kollie”. Here I was, a “Sirleaf”, attracted to a “Kollie”, flagrantly flouting society’s conventions (in my teenage mind, this was a BIG deal). This seemed like a test of how much I really loved my name (and I really did), because my attraction to him had already started leading me to imagine myself married to him and having to carry his last name. This was a nightmare in my imagination, but I couldn’t do much about it because after a couple of conversations, we started dating. He was literally the nicest, most caring and handsomest guy ever. He respected me so much. I loved him.
For as long as we dated, every once in a while, the thought of being called something other than Sirleaf bothered me. Worst of all, in Liberia, it is expected that a woman carries her husband’s last name and if you do not, you are considered to be unruly or insubordinate. So what would become of a woman like me who loved the name her dad had given her? Would I dare to be different and keep my dad’s name or would I choose to not be pointed at and take my husband’s name?
I hadn’t talked to Marcus about any of these thoughts and we had been together for over 8 years now. Thinking back, I guess I was scared that he would’ve seen me as society would if he knew I didn’t want to take his last name. So I kept it to myself, went through the ups and downs of our relationship, and we finally got to the point of knowing we were ready to settle down. One night, a couple of weeks before we got married, he noticed me deep in thought. As he does, he asked what was on my mind. I don’t know how or why but I finally grew the courage to jokingly say what had worried me for all these years. There were these seconds of dead silence that seemed to have lasted for eternity, but then he started laughing. I don’t know why but he laughed so much that I joined in too. After all the laughs, he held my hand and said these words I still replay to today’s date, “I’ve loved you as Ms. Sirleaf for almost 9 years and I wouldn’t mind loving you for another eternity as just that even if I put a ring on your finger.”
Today my name is Mrs. Tracy Kollie, not because of society or traditions, but because I don’t need a name to give me an identity. Plus, Mrs. Kollie sounds sexy as hell on my husband’s lips.
Authored by: Mosha A. Dukuly
Featured Image by: Zoriana Stakhniv on Unsplash
This is the most beautiful thing I’ve read in ages.??