Of Chronicles of living life with a wrongly spelt name (I)

Guest post by Godess

I have always known that my name was wrongly spelt. Did it bother me? Umm, not much. We were growing up in Murombedzi, Zvimba Growth Point, a semi-rural area. The people who were likely to know that Godess was supposed to be Goddess were likely to be my teachers. Only. There were good teachers those days even in a rural school like ours.

These days some of the people you find standing in front of crowded classrooms, calling themselves teachers…. (I cannot resist being a little prickly when I write, forgive me)… I bet a number of them would have missed the wrong spelling all together. Not that it would entirely be their fault.

Godess, whether correctly spelt or not wasn’t a common name then and still isn’t. By a very long shot. In fact I am the only person who I have ever known who is called Godess. The closest name to mine  has been Goodness. And I have been called Goodness by some unfunny people. Eye roll. But I have been called worse things if I am to be honest.

On the way to Kawondera Primary School from our police camp home, just close to the little path which we walked every day to and from school was Mai Monica’s homestead. She used to call me Godardi!  Come on, even my late Sekuru who couldn’t say Cynthia, my sister’s name, and called her Senzia instead, even he could say Godesi.

That’s me and my sister Cynthia and our mother. It is in these uniforms that we we would pass by Mai Monica’s house on our way to and from school.
That’s me and my sister Cynthia and our mother. It is in these uniforms that we we would pass by Mai Monica’s house on our way to and from school.

But Mai Monica, who our mother used to call when it was time to ‘harvest’ the broilers, so she could help in killing of the chickens, dressing them for sale and then get paid in matumbu, chicken feet and heads, couldn’t be bothered. Mai Monica also insisted on my mother calling her whenever a chicken died of natural causes because she ate these dead chickens. Apparently. Alarmingly.

One of the many problems that came with Mai Monica calling me Godardi was that other children with whom we walked to school, would call me Godardi as and when they felt like it. But maybe the worst of them all is Godness. What the heck does it mean? I know not all names have meanings but…Godness!  I cannot handle it. But it does sound very Zimbabwean doesn’t it. Taking after it’s sister names like Loveness etcetera.

Upper Six Godess. Freeze Gel was a must have for us back then and I mostly used it to manipulate my eyebrows into those crazy thin lines
Upper Six Godess. Freeze Gel was a must have for us back then and I mostly used it to manipulate my eyebrows into those crazy thin lines

About the Author

Godess Bvukutwa Chawatama is a Feminist Thinker. Writer. Fierce Mom.

Also Read: Of Salon Conversations: You Too Mainini Can Be First Lady by Godess

WinterABC2023

Responses to “Of Chronicles of living life with a wrongly spelt name (I)”

  1. Winnie Naigaga avatar

    Mine would be, “of Chronicles of having your name wrongly pronounced”

    1. Beaton avatar

      I can totally relate to that one… one of the reasons why I just tell people to call me B
      ~B

  2. […] This is a two part post also check out Chronicles of Living Life With a Wrongly Spelt Name (I) […]

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