the story of a name
The Day You Got Your Name
It starts with a question at breakfast: “Why did you call me that?” The answer takes your child somewhere they didn't expect — into the room where the whole family argued, laughed and prayed over what to call them. By the last page they say their own name differently. Louder. Like it belongs to them. Because it does.
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the glow is grandma ↺
after this book, they…
✶ says their name like a title
✶ answers the register sitting taller
✶ asks for the story again
scroll — the book turns its own pages
“Ayo!” called Dad from the kitchen.
Ayo didn't look up.
She was busy watching the spoon make tracks in the milk.
Clink, clink.
“Ayo!”
This time she looked up. “Yeah?”
Her name was just a sound. A normal sound.
A word people said when they needed her. Nothing more than that.
page one
Then — something happened.
The kitchen went fuzzy at the edges.
And Ayo was there. In the room from the story.
Everyone was choosing a name.
One uncle offered three names nobody would say out loud.
“Too long!” “Too fancy!” “Too hard to spell on a form!”
Names flew round the room. None of them landed.
It wasn't a story any more. It was happening.
the world between
The next morning, at school.
The teacher read the register, same as every morning.
All the names in a row.
“Ayo?”
Ayo sat up. Not taller. Not louder. Just — sure.
“Here.”
Not just a sound any more.
The teacher didn't notice.
But Ayo did.
the register
Every page after this one has your child in it.
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drawn from your photo →
made theirs, page by page
The hero looks like your child — because it is your child
their name
on the cover, in the story, said out loud
their face & hair
skin tone, hairstyle, the lot — from your photo
their people
who walks beside them: Dad, Mum, Grandma…
their heritage
the food, the fabric, the world between