BRA VINCI'S CODESA WILL GET US SCURRYING TO CHANGE OUR NAMES
Tessa Dowling

The Sunday Independent
May 21 2006 Edition 1

It was a Friday night kwaMzoli, and there was one helluva fight going on among the amagents at the bar. Sis' Busi was so disturbed by it all she had to have some snuff, which she dragged out from the depths of her ample cleavage along with a sock and a cellphone.

But Bra V, who was in a state of great happiness brought upon by a lottery payout of R133.46, had a theory. "Jonga, those guys, they are just living up to their surnames!"

"Then why is my surname Sibhityile (we are skinny) when I am so bloody tyebile (fat)?" interjected Sis' Nongendi, who had once tried to become a nun because her first name means "unmarried".

It didn't work out, but she still bakes amaqebengwane (scones) for the Carmelite nuns, who were not surprised to learn that her mother's surname was Nomlomo - someone with a big mouth.

"Owukeyi wena, you are an exemption," says Bra V. "But I am telling you, nine times out of ten, a person will live up to his or her surname."

He used his bottle of lager to point to a brother at the bar.

"That one who has now thrown a stick at Bra Witbooi, his surname is Mkhonto (assegai), and the other one there, hiding away in the corner, shaking like a Moir's jelly, his surname is Xhalabile (anxious). And as for the big nantsika (thingummybob) with the dreadlocks - yes, that one who has just made a big, scary noise - he is Mr Ngonyama (lion)."

Bra V told us he was doing plenty researches on the subject of surnames and was going to write a book that was going to become a best-seller, like the Bra Vinci Codesa.

"After all," he winked, "what is my surname if not Mali (money)?" At the mention of money, the brawl suddenly died down. There were not many injuries, except that a certain young guy - Hluphuyise (bothers his father) - had been knocked out from a blow on the jaw. "Well, what did I tell you? His surname is Mlonyeni (in the mouth)." pointed out Bra V.

Bra V's repertoire was by now attracting a crowd. "Look at him," whispered Sis' Busi. "He thinks he is a professor, or something speshal, like he is now the total centre of detention."

"Money talks," offered the sexy Ms Thandi Mzimba (body), moving her curves just that bit closer to Bra V's seat.

At that point, Thomas, the German tourist, entered the pub and was informed about Bra V's special expertise. ("AmaGermans, they like information," hissed Sis' Nongendi.)

"Oh, zat is sehr faszinierend. So you please tell me now, in zis political climate zat ve all are experiencing here in zis beautiful city of Cape Town, vot does Mgoqi mean?"

"AmaGermans, they like to be controversial," added Sis' Busi, swiftly ordering two steaks and umngqusho (samp and beans) for him.

"You know that one ... eish, I am still working it out," stalled Bra V, "but my dictionaries and sources tell me that ukugoqa means 'to bar the door or gate of a hut or kraal' or 'to plant the heels against the ground' or 'to grip the saddle with the knees'. Hence, an umgoqi is just such a person."

"Ah, zat is excellent and absorbing information," Bra Thomas beamed happily. "You are so good, could you please put my mind at rest, zen: vot does Zuma mean?"

A terrible hush descended upon the gathered crowd - the silence of a shameful, shared family secret. To add to the creepy atmosphere, there was a power outage and all the lights went out, and Sis' Busi swore she felt someone else's hands go down her décolletage, snaffling her snuff.

"Ag fok, no man!" cursed Bra February (February), who had been playing cards with Bra Xego (Old man) and was about to beat him lekker.

"They must now get the fokken bergie out of Koeberg!"

But even his lighthearted banter in the dark didn't conceal the fact that a serious question had been asked, by a German, the makers of BMWs, the most wanted stolen cars in the Cape Flats. "Ahem, for this name, I need money," said Bra V. "It's hot stuff." In fact, all the Xhosa- and Zulu-speaking clientele knew exactly what Zuma meant but they tacitly agreed they would leave the revelation to the expert.

Bra Thomas said ach jawohl, he would give R12.50 for the information, and he also had a euro or two for good measure. But Bra V was feeling magnanimous and he pulled out, from under his cap, a piece of cardboard, on which he had transcribed, direct from The Greater Dictionary of Xhosa: "izuma, noun, class 5/6: 1 indoda ezithathela isondo kumntu ubhinqileyo elele ubuthongo, ukureyipha: a man who rapes a sleeping woman; man wat 'n slapende vrou verkrag". (edited by HW Pahl, 1989. The Greater Dictionary of Xhosa, Vol 3, Q to Z. Alice: University of Fort Hare, p677.)

"My bru, that's mos incendiary!" Bra February had found a torch and was checking the piece of cardboard with great concentration.

"Hayi bo! It's not an incendiary, it's a dictionary." answered Bra V, ordering another round of drinks for us all.

As we all quaffed the by now slightly warm lagers, Bra V hiccuped and told us that next weekend we could all pay R2 to hear his lecture on the meaning of first names, including those not African, like Jacob. He said he had a premonition it had something to do with being held by balls ... or was it the heels? Something like that.

Tessa Dowling (black calf) is a director of African Voices. She was helped by Vuyokazi Nomlomo (with a mouth).