Nicknames come about in different ways.

Some are obvious like Shorty or Freckles.

Some are ironic like Tiny for a big guy.

Some happen because of an event. Someone might be called Sieve because they let in a lot of goals in their sport, or Slugger because they hit a lot of home runs in baseball.

My mother’s nickname was Matie because she was a head nurse or matron in the hospitals she worked at.

Some nicknames stick. They stick to the point where the person’s real name is unknown by many.

Look at Babe Ruth. Quick, what’s his birth name? It was George Herman Ruth.
How about Caligula? His actual name was Gaius Caesar Augustus Germanicus. “Caligula” refers to the tiny boots he wore as a child when his father’s soldiers dressed him up in a little military uniform.

There’s another nickname that looks like it may continue into perpetuity. And it’s in my family.

Here’s the story:

I have three children: two daughters and a son, Thandi, Mandisa, and Themba respectively. My son is the youngest and as he learned to talk his pronunciation of his sister’s names and his own was cute.

Thandi became Didi.
Mandisa became Dida.
Themba became Vava.

We enjoyed hearing his version of the names and began using them ourselves as long as he kept saying them.

But would any stand up to the test of time or would they die when he eventually could say the names properly?

What happened to Didi

Didi died. It never really took off. The only time we said it was when we referred to Themba’s sister when talking to him. When talking amongst ourselves we didn’t use it. And as far as I can recall, we never referred to Thandi as Didi.

Didi was dead soon after arrival.

What happened to Vava

Vava survived longer. I use it on my phone as my son’s name. I’m probably the only one who does. It was used longer than Didi and because I’m sentimental I still hang on to it.

My wife doesn’t use it. I sometimes do when we’re talking about our son.

So it’s around because I keep it around but it’s on its way out. If I was to die today you can kiss Vava goodbye.

What happened to Dida

For whatever reason Dida has hung around for 25 years and is still going strong. This nickname was embraced by aunts and uncles and used on birthday cards. I think I wrote a poem and used Dida instead of Mandisa.

Now we have Aunty Dida which is what her nephew calls her.

Why? Because that’s what everyone told him her name was, including herself. Yes, Mandisa calls herself Dida sometimes. She has adopted her nickname. I guess there was no point fighting it.

What’s next

So only one nickname has made it to the next generation. Nephews and nieces will be introduced to Aunty Dida. It is only two syllables and easier to say.

The question remains will they switch to Aunty Mandisa once they know her true name? Or will Aunty Dida live on?

I’m betting it will. Only time will tell.

How about you
Do you have any nickname stories you’d like to share? Or are you known by your nickname?