Detox | Navigating ‘same-name’ confusion

This weekend marks the one year anniversary of our first attempt to detox your week with a guide filled with things to consume during the weekend — a task that sometimes proved more challenging than our abilities. We didn’t give up, however, and to continue to try to help every warrior fighting against life’s burdens to relax before the start of another busy week.

For our 51st edition we present you with a guide to navigating “same-name” situations. What is a name, and what do you do when you share it with someone you don’t even know?

Let us speak with no narcissism, without getting too personal, because really we’re all totally overwhelmed with our own issues and don’t have the bandwidth to listen to someone else blab about themselves. Dealing with our own actions, mistakes and names — with all they entail — is more than enough.

A name is a metaphor. It’s what people see and know of us, the one thing we can’t keep secret. It’s what we put forward to the world, and what people use when they gossip. We are attributed to this name and it is all that is left of our life when we go. But all it represents is a lie that each of us has perfected telling — so much so that we spontaneously turn around to look if someone else calls us by that very lie. When people use your name it’s no longer your own lie, others get entangled as well. That’s how our little public lie goes on for so long it eventually becomes a name.

(Perhaps this is a good opportunity to revisit José Saramago’s novel All the Names)

The most dire example of same-name trouble is when someone is prosecuted for a crime another person committed. And so people struggle with picking a name, a name that is special, in an attempt to prevent such situations from happening. This is perhaps also why, in Egypt, before the introduction of digitized IDs, people were allowed to use alternative names in their identification cards next to their real ones, “nicknames” or names they were known for in certain contexts to distinguish themselves from others.

Writers, even the unknown ones, are the most obsessed with having a unique name and don’t accept being compared to others. They are symbol-creators; they choose telling names for their characters, manipulate them as they see fit, and — from the brief lives of those characters — they draw wisdom and meaning and enjoyment. A writer therefore takes their own name rather seriously, and spends their lives tending to it. 

How do two writers deal with having the same name, then?

In 2011, a poet called Ibrahim al-Sayid was invited to participate in a poetry reading at the Rawabet space. Attendees arrived to a commotion at the entrance. It wasn’t part of the performance — this poetry slam that was taking place in no way resembled the classic matches between old Arabic poets like Gareer and al-Farazdaq, for instance. Another poet called Ibrahim al-Sayid was there — not to read, but as a member of the audience — and he found it necessary for both poets to settle the issue of their similar name once and for all, right there and then. One Ibrahim al-Sayid accused the other of not being the “real” Ibrahim al-Sayid, in response the accused Ibrahim took out his ID and dared the other one to do the same. After a few wise people intervened, one Ibrahim left and the other ascended onto the stage, unsettled. When your name is questioned, as a writer, your very artistic identity is at stake. 

[wonderplugin_video iframe="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=eJO5HU_7_1w" lightbox=0 lightboxsize=1 lightboxwidth=960 lightboxheight=540 autoopen=0 autoopendelay=0 autoclose=0 lightboxtitle="" lightboxgroup="" lightboxshownavigation=0 showimage="" lightboxoptions="" videowidth=600 videoheight=400 keepaspectratio=1 autoplay=0 loop=0 videocss="position:relative;display:block;background-color:#000;overflow:hidden;max-width:100%;margin:0 auto;" playbutton="https://thefuturebegins.today/wp-content/plugins/wonderplugin-video-embed/engine/playvideo-64-64-0.png"]

When I first started working in journalism back in 2005, I found that taking my father’s name, Wael — a name that is not so common — would imbue my very ubiquitous first name, Ahmed, with a touch of uniqueness. Then, upon publishing my novella in 2008, I found out that Ahmed Wael was also the name of a Jordanian writer with a popular blog. It wasn’t long before I realized there were in fact many Ahmed Waels, several of whom were authors. 

I looked at the situation as a game, and decided to revel in the confusion created by the fact that I shared my name with others in my field of work. It’s come to a point where I no longer give a straight answer to anyone asking if I wrote this post or that series on TV — I am intentionally ambiguous, and leave it up to them to figure it out.

But what will set apart each of the Ahmed Waels or the Ibrahim al-Sayids or any two who share a name?

It is indeed a strange situation to find oneself in, but whatever you do, do not use a picture to distinguish yourself on the back of your book. At the end of the day, the self’s presence in writing has a much bigger impact than a picture. It really is an adolescent act and as the years go by we learn that what we look like might change, whereas our core remains the same. 

In all cases, dear reader, you are not in need of advice, for none of us is Llosa and you are probably no longer that young. But here’s the gist: Humility is key, and narcissism is the end of talent. Let your writing alone speak for your uniqueness among others who share your letters.

And if you find yourself in a “same-name” situation, it’s not the end of the world. A little self-doubt could be useful, and a bit of confusion is sometimes refreshing.

*This guide was written by one of several other Ahmed Waels who write, inspired by recurring confusion surrounding his name.