What's in a Name?
If It's 'Mba,' a Degree of Confusion
By JOEL MILLMAN ,
Wall Street Journal
June 13, 2008; Page A1
PHILADELPHIA -- Every time Nkechi Mba, a pediatric oncologist at St. Christopher's Hospital for Children, fills in her name on a form somewhere, she gets the same response.
"They say, 'No, not your degree, Madame. Your name, please,'" the Nigerian-born immigrant says.
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| WSJ's Joel Millman visits Ifeoma Mba, a Nigerian immigrant in Pennsylvania who while working toward her master's in business administration, caused a bit of confusion. |
Ibrahim Mba, a college student in Dallas, says he, too, gets the raised-eyebrow treatment when filling out job applications at, say, Jack In The Box, the burger joint where he once worked the night shift. "They're flabbergasted," he says. "They ask, 'You have an M.B.A., and you'd work here?'"
Every immigrant wave brings its own tongue-twisting surnames -- Krzyzewskis from Krakow, Ngs from Singapore, Balasubramanyams from Thiruvananthapuram. Mba (pronounced hymn-BAH) is relatively common in West Africa, but rare in the U.S., although immigration patterns are making it a bit less unusual. The number of immigrants in the U.S. from sub-Sahara Africa is surging, passing the one-million mark about two years ago from 500,000 or so in the early 1990s.
From Manhattan's 116th street, also known as Little Senegal, to the Ghanaian enclaves around Newark, N.J., to Somalis in San Diego, enough Africans have arrived that they have carved out distinct districts, usually within traditional African-American neighborhoods in large U.S. cities. No group is more numerous than the Nigerians, close to 150,000 strong. Southwest Houston's Little Lagos neighborhood, which runs east-west along Bissonnet Street, features the usual mix of Nigerian groceries and restaurants, and also Nigerian-owned insurance agencies, Realtors, attorneys and accountants.
Nigerian Influx
The Nigerian influx is putting its stamp on U.S. professional ranks across the country. Vivian Mba works for Fidelity Investments in Boston, Frank Mba practices law in Houston, and Gabriel Mba, a Cameroonian immigrant in Minnesota, is trying to build a cable channel, the African Broadcasting Network. Bart Mba works as a pharmacist in Richmond, Texas. "I will own a pharmacy as soon as I am able," he says.
And last month, the University of Pennsylvania's Wharton School here conferred a Master of Business Administration degree to Ifeoma "Iffy" Mba, a Nigerian economist who worked in corporate finance before coming to Philadelphia from Lagos, Nigeria's financial hub. (Watch a video interview with Ms. Mba about her studies.)
The 28-year-old isn't the only Mba with an M.B.A.: Lawrence Mba, a financial consultant in Canada, already had his when he emigrated from Nigeria. And then there was Robinson O. Mba, who earned one from Columbia University back in the 1970s, the school's records show.
Most Mbas hail from Nigeria, sub-Saharan Africa's biggest country by population, and one of its richest, thanks to rising oil prices. Mbas are usually from the Ibo tribe, Christians in an overwhelmingly Muslim country.
Ibos, once known as Biafrans, attempted secession in the 1960s, which brought on a brutal civil war, whose refugees spawned a world-wide diaspora. Hundreds of Nigerians named Mba are living in the U.S., including second- and third-generation U.S. citizens. ![[Ifeoma Mba]](http://s.wsj.net/public/resources/images/HC-GM084_Mba_20080612174215.gif)
Iffy Mba is an Ibo, one of four Ibos at Penn's Wharton School. It's apt that she is Penn's first M.B.A. named Mba, she explains: A popular Nigerian compliment, "Iba go mba" -- which means "you shall be wealthy" -- ends with the word that now is both her family name and her degree.
Ms. Mba recently spent her last day on the Penn campus. She seemed wistful, visiting African merchants in nearby West Philadelphia who became friends during her two years here. She stopped for lunch at the African Bukateria (a Nigerian word for "food shop") on Lancaster Avenue, and had a tearful encounter with the owner, whom she calls "Mom."
The owner, Olu Funké, says her name in Nigeria's Yoruba language means "God gave this child to me to take care of." That's a lot to tell her American customers, the proprietor explains, so she kept it simple. "I came to Philadelphia and said, 'Call me Funké.' So, naturally, everyone instead calls me 'Funky.'"
On nearby Baltimore Avenue, Ms. Mba is delighted to find that another Nigerian friend has moved his corner grocery to a bigger space down the block. "Orji" is the Ibo merchant's name, "But here they just call me O.J.," he says, smiling.
How many Mbas have gone into business in the U.S. is unknown. According to the U.S. Census Bureau's Survey of Business Owners, the number of "black owned" companies (operated or controlled either by U.S.-born or immigrant entrepreneurs) has exploded in the past 10 years, to over 1.2 million in 2002, the last year the Census has figures for. That represented a 45% rise from 1997, and was the third straight five-year period since 1987 in which the number of black-owned businesses jumped by at least 20%.
People named Mba face unique problems thanks in part to the computer age. Ngozi Mba, a marketing executive in Hollywood, is besieged by unsolicited offers to attend business conferences, subscribe to finance journals and be a mentor to students. Why? Because she is a Harvard graduate, which makes her a prime target for anyone mining databases for terms like "Harvard MBA."
'Born With an M.B.A'
"I hear all the jokes: 'You were born with an M.B.A.' Recruiters call saying 'You are such a great fit for this company, especially with your M.B.A.,'" says the California native, who doesn't have an M.B.A.
Another pet peeve of Mbas: Their surname is routinely stripped from mailing lists on the mistaken assumption that "Mba" is the title tacked on to their name, as opposed to being their actual name. So magazines, catalogs and junk mail routinely arrive addressed to people's first names instead -- Mr. or Mrs. "Ngozi," "Chidume" or "Ijeoma."
Airports are another irritant. Ifeoma Mba, the newly minted Wharton MBA, has become accustomed to airline staffers looking past her surname when she presents her ID at ticket counters. Like many Ibo, Ms. Mba has a religious word, "Grace," as her middle name. As a result, ticketing agents instinctively look for the name "Grace Ifeoma" as they scan a passenger list, and never find a match.
"It happens every time," Ms. Mba says, sighing.
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Posted by Robot| 13.06.2008 17:49