In a cultural exposition, Etinyin Holyns Hogan has detailed the sophisticated naming traditions of the Efik people of southeastern Nigeria, unpacking a centuries-old system that encodes time, spirituality, ancestry, and social values into personal names NEGROIDHAVEN can report.
The Efik, historically centered in Calabar and across Cross River and Akwa Ibom states, operate on what Hogan describes as a “tetrad naming system”—a structured four-part framework comprising Ata Enyịñ (proper name), Enyịñ Emana (birth name), Udori Enyịñ (honorary alias), and Ndịtịk Enyịñ (nickname). Each component serves a distinct purpose in situating an individual within family, time, and community.
“Efik proper names reflect the child’s paternal or maternal origin and lineage,” Hogan explains. “The birth name tells you when the child arrived—day, night, or season—while the honorary name connects the child to a respected elder. It is a complete system of identity.”
Among the names analyzed in his 2024 cultural note are Nkoyo, Asandia, and Abasi—each carrying deep etymological and symbolic weight.
Nkoyo, a common female name, derives from the fusion of Nko and Okoneyo (the Efik word for night). It specifically denotes a girl born at night. Hogan notes that Nko itself carries spiritual connotations, often perceived in Efik cosmology as “a transcendental being, a wanderer, or something that supernaturally rises in value.”
Asandia, though less common today, is described as a “special adorable name” given to a female child born during a season of bountiful harvest. It combines Asa—a name linked to the Efik water deity Anansa—and Ndia, meaning “sufficient food or feast.” Figuratively, Asandia translates to “a basket full of blessings.”
Abasi, often simplified to mean “God,” holds nuanced layers. In everyday use, Abasi can refer to any venerated entity—an idol, ancestor, or natural force. Only when extended as Abasi Ibom Enyọñ or Ata Abasi does it exclusively denote the Supreme God. As a personal name, Abasi is traditionally given to a male child dedicated to the divine on sacred Efik worship days.
Hogan’s breakdown comes at a time of growing concern over the erosion of indigenous cultural knowledge among younger generations. By sharing his analysis on digital platforms, he joins a cadre of tradition-bearers using technology to preserve linguistic and anthropological heritage.
“When you hear an Efik name, you are hearing a story—of birth, of blessing, of belonging,” Hogan writes. “These names are not just labels. They are living records.”
The post has sparked engagement online, with many Nigerians of Efik descent expressing gratitude for the detailed clarification, noting that such systematic knowledge is rarely taught outside familial oral traditions.
