Adrian vs Edirin (response to Jim vs James)
“Sorry, what was your name?”
“Edirin”
“Eh…what?”
“Edirin”
“Adrian?”
“Edi…”
“Can we just call you Adrian?”
“Um…okay…”
Adrian. Adrian Ibru. That’s what I was called for a good five years of my life. Not because I particularly liked the name but because that’s what was given to me. And I was honestly too passive to care. It all started when I began attending the American International School in Nigeria during third grade. Up until that point all the people I had come in contact with were either Nigerian or British, and the closest I had ever been to meeting an American was watching Rambo or the Fresh Prince of Bellaire on TV. Perhaps it was the culture shock and shyness that came from suddenly being plopped in an entirely American classroom that made me hesitant to correct my teacher.
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