I was at a party and it was loud and I was tired of having stunted conversations about my name, so I wrote it on my forearm in Sharpie and that was one of the smartest things I've ever done. I don't know what it's like to introduce yourself in a loud room when your name is Emily or Rachel, but when your name is Malaika it is an absolute shitshow and after repeating myself five times it gets exhausting. So instead I'd just hold out my arm and they'd read my name and all my problems were solved, and I didn't have to say "No, Malaika, with an m" or "No, the middle part rhymes with bike" I'd just point and we'd move on to more interesting things.
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The story of my name, my mother likes to tell me, is that when they had no children, my parents decided to be polite and give their first-born child an easy-to-pronounce, but still interesting name, so they went with Maya. And everyone mispronounced it anyways (saying the first part to rhyme with bay) and so they threw caution to the wind and said, "We're naming the second kid whatever we want." I don't know what percent of that story is true, but let me tell you if they were trying to demonstrate how contrary they were by giving me a name that is tough to pronounce, they sure as hell succeeded.
These look like exactly the type of people who would think it would be a good idea to name their kid Malaika and then move to the United States.
Teachers, in particular, would read off my name as Michaela, which is pretty ironic considering that like 90 percent of their job is teaching us to sound out things that we don't know. There was the added struggle of growing up in the South, where I could never be sure if people were saying Ma-lake-a because of their accent, or because that's what they thought my name was.
Jewish people don't believe that I'm Jewish (I am), and Indian people think that my parents can't spell and meant to name me Mallika (a perfectly respectable Indian name, but not mine) and non-Latino people think that I'm Latina, while actual Latino people know that Hispanic names don't really have K's in them.
My parents named me after a really popular East African folk song, which was made really, reallypopular by Miriam Makeba, who had such reach and influence that she was nicknamed Mama Africa. One of my favorite games is telling people that I was named after a song because they get all excited and ask what song, and then I tell them that it's named Malaika and they nod slowly and awkwardly as they remember that that is how naming someone after things works.
Sometimes I wonder how many opportunities in life I've missed because someone couldn't remember my name, and it is frustrating to hear a professorstill stumble through it as they take roll on the last day of the semester. Also, let's not talk about those monogrammed keychains that every Ashley and Tom and Peter got to put on their backpacks. My name is annoying and cumbersome, and when I go to those restaurants where they call out your name when the food is ready, I say that my name is Lisa because I just can't be bothered. But there are also times when I'm not annoyed with my parents for calling me this.
Me, knitting mournfully after my parents told me that I would NEVER find a keychain with my name on it.
(I'm pretty sure I'm not knitting but I also have no idea what I am actually doing.)
My name is the Swahili word for angel and when I meet someone from East Africa they light up. I was in the bank a few weeks ago and the teller asked me my name to input some information. I just handed my ID to her because I did not feel like spelling it out, and she glanced at it and then dropped it in surprise. "Your name is Malaika?" she whispered, and I was a little startled that she pronounced it correctly.
"Yes...?"
"I am from Tanzania!!!" she half yelled. She asked me if I spoke Swahili and I had to say no, which disappointed her a little bit, but she processed my check with an enormous grin on her face, and as I was leaving she shook my hand vigorously and said "I am going to call my sister and tell her I met a Malaika at work today!!" with such earnestness that I knew she totally would.
I like when I introduce myself and the other person responds "Oh... I'm from Kenya," with a kind of knowing look, and we nod at each other like spies who share a secret. I like when I'm listening to my song and people narrow their eyes like they're trying to figure out... "Is she singing... 'Malaika?' Does Malaika know that she's singing 'Malaika?' " And also, not going to lie, I like that I have my very own brand of wine.
Angelically elegant.
