Can You still Name him "Bangurambona?"

Every name tells a story.

Coffee dealer Charles Ntezahorigwa, an ethnic Tutsi, grew up in the 1950s in a rural area dominated by Hutus who wanted the Tutsis to leave. "They used witchcraft against us and danced nude so our crops wouldn't grow," he said.

The hostile environment was borne out in his name -- Nteza ("I'm expecting"), Kugwa ("To fall"), Ibara ("Something bad"), or "I'm expecting something bad to happen."

Tensions were also recorded in the names of his siblings: Nkinahamira ("I'm playing on quicksand"), Nicayenzi (I'm quiet, but aware I'm in danger") and Bakanibona ("They're planning bad things, but God will protect me").

In Burundi's fatalistic nomenclature, and in a language that can say much in a few syllables, there's Barayampiema ("They're not telling the truth"), Bangurambona ("They're plotting against me"), Barandagiye ("They're following me"), Nzobatinya ("I fear them"), Ntamahungiro ("There is no place to hide").

There is even Hicuburundi ("Burundians kill"), a name linguists say could memorialize tragedy, or warn the child who bears it to be careful -- some countrymen can pose a threat.

Ntahombaye (meaning "I live nowhere") says such appellations aren't meant to express hatred, but to encourage social cohesion.

"It's a way to say to your neighbors, you know their intentions, their bad intentions," he said. "But it's also a way of telling them, 'We're aware of these sentiments you have, and we invite you to change.' " Read on HERE