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Washington, D.C., Monday, May 17, 1971
Name a Daughter
By HARVEY KABAKER
All the kids came to celebrate.
Nike came, and so did Yewande.
So did Mary and Eleanor and Senora, as did Olusa, Jiba, Yemi and Ademola. And his
brothers, Ola, 3, and Ose, 2.
But the day didn't belong entirely to Olufolade, or Ofu for short.
It was the day of the official naming ceremony for his sister. But we'll get to that later.
Ogunfiditimi, 31, studied biology at Howard University, where he met Sharon Yates, 26,
from Detroit. He is now doing graduate work in microbiology at George Washington
University while his wife gets her degree in chemistry. He also works at the Library of
Congress.
They live at 743 Gallatin St. NE and, like many of their countrymen, attend the Church of
Our Savior where the naming ceremony-birthday party was held.
The ceremony was an amalgam of Christianity, with hymns and prayer in English and a
dialect of the Yoruba group, and the symobls of life, health, wealth and happiness pressed to the
lips of the newborn. It was led by Dr. Caleb I. Akinele, an assistant professor of economics at
Howard and a grade school friend of Ogunfiditimi in their native Ondo, Nigeria.
In the "native" part of this ceremony, Dr. Akinyele cradled the 6-month-old girl in his left arm as
he chanted her name and dabbed various things to her face and lips, so she could taste them.
First there was water, which, he later explained, represents the cleansing forces of life.
Then oil, preferably palm oil, for the coming of calm in periods of travail. Then salt and sugar to
improve taste and therefore to bring pleasantness in life.
A more complete ceremony, Dr. Akinyele said, would have included the cola nut, for
longevity (it does not fall from the tree until fully ripe), and ginger, for good health (it is often
used in native medicines).
The infant also tasted a bit of meat, standing for the providence of nature. She eagerly
grasped a small wad of American and Nigerian money, bringing delight to the guests. And she
watched warily while a kitchen knife was held close, but carefully pointed away.
The knife, it was explained, might have been larger "back home." Made of iron, it was
used because her family name begins with "Ogun," the god of Iron. The whole name, the father
explained, means, "the god of iron is behind me, supporting me wherever I go."
Oluwole Oduba, honored with the position of "chairman" of the event, explained that
parents never think of children's names in advance, but select them on the basis of a significant
event or circumstance at the time of birth. With that in mind, these are the names the
Ogunfiditimis chose, as they were explained after the ceremony:
Monisola, the mother's designation, meaning "I have my own share." After three
sons, now she has a daughter, "her share in the family."
Morounmbo, "I have something precious to take back home"--the father's designation.
Olatubokun, "It is time for my honor to come back home," from her grandmother in
Nigeria. Murmurs of appreciation and applause came from the guests, including other Nigerians
and Ghanaians who left families to study and work in the United States.
Finally, Vivian, after the baby's other grandmother, in Detroit.
So all in all, yesterday was a good day for Monisola Morounmbo Olatubokun Vivian
Ogunfiditimi.
Just call her "Moni."
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18 April 1996