Unpacking the Hidden Names: Cameroon and Nigeria — Echoes of Colonial Arrogance

When you start digging into the origins of African country names, the results can be as surprising as they are unsettling. Some names weren’t chosen by the people who live there — they were imposed by explorers, colonizers, and outsiders. Two particularly loaded names are Cameroon and Nigeria.

Cameroon: The Land of the Shrimp?
Let’s start with Cameroon. The name comes from “Rio dos Camarões,” meaning “River of Shrimp” in Portuguese. That’s right — a country, rich in culture and diversity, got named after the local seafood. Portuguese explorers in the 1400s found so many prawns in what is now the Wouri River, they thought: Why not name the whole thing after shrimp?

It’s a sharp example of how colonial powers reduced whole regions to a single feature — whether it was wildlife, rivers, or perceived resources. They weren’t interested in the people, the languages, or the histories. Just what they could name, label, and own.

Nigeria: A Name with a Shadow?
Now, Nigeria. On the surface, it seems to come from the Niger River — and it does. But take a closer look, and the waters get murkier.

Coined by Flora Shaw, a British colonialist, “Nigeria” combines “Niger” and the Latin suffix “-ia,” commonly used to name places. But it’s hard to ignore how "Niger" phonetically echoes a slur that enslaved Africans heard for centuries. The similarity between “Nigeria” and “n****r area” may not be etymologically intended, but it has left generations uncomfortable — especially given the racist backdrop of colonialism.

For critics of colonial history, this interpretation isn't about dictionary definitions. It's about how names reflect power — and how Black identity has been shaped and sometimes scarred by names not chosen by Africans themselves.

Words Matter
Why does any of this matter? Because names carry weight. They shape perception. They influence pride, history, and even trauma. When you’re named by outsiders — especially those who saw you as either a food source or a colony to be exploited — that name can feel more like a brand than a birthright.

Some might say this is reading too much into things. Others would say it's not reading enough. Either way, it’s worth asking:

If a name was given to you by someone who didn’t respect you, do you still want to wear it?