Naming Practices in the Nigerian and Wider Diasporic Community in Britain

Research piece by Amouraé Bhola-Chin

Importance of Naming in Nigerian Cultures 

  • In the West African context, naming is “an important ideological form of identification ..and reference,” and acts to reflect and uphold the status as well as dignity of a household (Inyabri, Mensah and Nyong 2020: 2). 
  • Thus, the Yoruba proverb, ‘You do not name a child unless you know the condition of the home into which they are born,’ reaffirms the name as a symbol of familial “experiences, conflicts or situations,” and argues that one should be chosen with diligence (Inyabri, Mensah and Nyong 2020: 2; Lyrikline: 2023). 
  • Names then become situated within historical resonances: the weight placed onto them don’t only tend to ground the individual in terms of spirituality, but also in philosophy and worldview (Inyabri, Mensah and Nyong 2020: 3).  

Motivations for British Nigerian Participation in Name-changing 

  • “The system is not accommodating, they’re tolerant.. but ..do[n’t] have a regard for the African background or African culture” (Phrankleen: 2020). Consequently, in school and at the workplace, Nigerians are expected to ‘tone down’ a part of who they are to cater to British societal expectations (Phrankleen: 2020). 
  • This causes internal conflict, something heightened in times when those of the Diaspora only really held particular types of jobs. 
  • As Rosemarie recalls, “when you went out, you literally had to wear a raincoat of another identity” because when you did (and are) this “other person,” you’re more likely to blend in, to get onto the career ladder, for example: as “the classic immigrant template” isn’t so ‘in your face’ (1,000 Londoners: 2016; Phrankleen: 2020).  

Zooming in on Theresa Lola, and how she, as a British Nigerian, uses Poetry to Highlight the Psychological Impact of British Intolerance to West African Names 

  • Theresa Lola wrote Her Name is Her House which becomes a case study exploring the socio-political reasoning behind the adoption of a foreign name. 
  • She critiques the entrenchment of colonialism within the British education system, and society at large, when it’s faced with non-Western cosmologies. This is conveyed in the subsequent shortening and mispronunciation of Theresa’s name — so when recalling encounters she’s had with students and lecturers, we bear witness to her vilified identity (Lyrikline: 2023). 
  • This trauma doesn’t weaken her resolve, neither does she give into vulnerability. Rather, Theresa resolves to protect her prized possession at all costs — with a gate, and guards even, for she cannot be robbed of her Yoruba heritage: her ‘home’ (Lyrikline: 2023). 
  • She places the reader in an uncomfortable position, forcing them to review the politicisation of African traditions; but more specifically, Theresa highlights the pain that the “performance of identity” continues to play within the Diaspora (Lyrikline: 2023; Inyabri, Mensah and Nyong 2020: 5). 

 Comparisons to the Caribbean Inclination to Celebrate Nationhood 

  • This should be looked at beside the British Caribbean model, which was arguably assisted by Obi Egbuna, a Nigerian who pioneered the British Black Panther movement following his time in America in the late 1960s (The New York Public Library Archives and Manuscripts: 2018). 
  • His and others’ work marked a “reverting back to ..African roots, cultural forms” (Inyabri, Mensah and Nyong 2020: 5). It came to the forefront when, in the 1970s, West Indians, as they were called, began responding with resistance to the racialised hostilities they faced (Grenada Archaeology: 2020). 
  • This reached its height when the resurfacing of West African names —Akee and Kamau, for example— began to be grafted back into the community (Grenada Archaeology: 2020). 
  • The Caribbean desire to root themselves in their native identities signified a conscious move to reclaim their heritage. 
  • Via solidarity, this would resemble itself in waves, which, in a cultural space as language, continues to permeate the British Nigerian collective (Inyabri, Mensah and Nyong 2020: 5).

Summary: The renaming process, therefore, depicts a shift in one’s self, as well as the “psychological and spiritual influence” of nationhood (Inyabri, Mensah and Nyong 2020: 2-3).  

Sources: 

  1. Inyabri, I., Mensah, E. and Nyong, B. (2020) ‘Names, Naming and the Code of Cultural Denial in a Contemporary Nigerian Society: An Afrocentric Perspective.’ Journal of Black Studies. pp.1-29. 
  2. ‘Marking an ‘X’: Exploring the History of Grenada’s Surnames,’ Grenada Archaeology, https://blog.grenadaarchaeology.com/2020/08/marking-x-exploring-history-of-grenadas.html, accessed 13 Jun. 2023. 
  3. ‘Obi Egbuna papers: 1960-2014,’ The New York Public Library Archives and Manuscripts, https://archives.nypl.org/scm/29909, accessed 11 Jun. 2023. 
  4. Phrankleen, ‘Why do African Diasporans Change Their Names for Acceptance?’, YouTube (recorded 31. May. 2020, uploaded 31 May. 2020), https://www.youtube.com/live/nN-gMt30McM?feature=share, accessed 15 Jun. 2023. 
  5. Theresa Lola. (2019) ‘Her House is Her Name’ from In Search of Equilibrium anthology. Taken from https://www.lyrikline.org/en/poems/her-name-her-house-16269, accessed 14 Jun. 2023. 
  6. ‘Windrush Generations: 1,000 Londoners,’ British Library, https://www.bl.uk/windrush/articles/windrush-generations-1000-londoners, accessed 5 Jun. 2023. 
  7. ‘Language as a Cultural Device: Comparing First-Generation British Nigerians to their Children’ 30 June 2023.  

“Language Functions determine Language Esteem and Future” (Uzor Eze and Igwenyi 2016: 119) 

  • English has been adopted by Nigerians as “the language of education”—thanks to colonialism and neocolonialism—thus the journey to England for most Nigerian migrants becomes less of a linguistic challenge, but more of a cultural shock (Uzor Eze and Igwenyi 2016: 107; Okpokiri 2017: 38-9). 
  • In 2020, Belo-Osagie, a reporter for The Nation newspaper, stated that despite the hundreds of local languages spoken by Nigerians, “many of them are in danger of extinction”: criticising the rise of globalisation (The Nation: 2020). 
  • This would have widespread implications rippling throughout the Nigerian diaspora, and so recent calls to preserve the languages spoken by its native speakers have raised the question of whether organisations at national and local levels have been doing enough. 

Are Nigerian Home Languages Easily Preserved in Britain? 

  • A 2005 study found that the establishment—schools and the government in particular—should play distinctive roles in ensuring that the home languages of first-generation British Nigerians are respected within institutional settings (McEachron and Bhatti 2005: 178). 
  • Their conclusion assumed the necessity of educational policies; these would act to enhance the prominence of bilingual teaching assistants within the classroom. In doing so, methods of preservation would be taken to savour their native tongue. 
  • McEachron and Bhatti, too, campaign for community leaders and parents to step in as the child’s safety net (essentially becoming the first port of call), because from there, teachers adopting policy would be able to implement tasks to see the welcome and encouragement of the children (McEachron and Bhatti 2005: 176-8). 

 
Second-Generations Speak of a Void between Themselves and Their Homeland 

  • When analysing the British Nigerian population, ’Bode Alakija acknowledges that between grandparents or parents and their children, there exists a barrier since “the first generation is there by conscious choice” while the latter don’t have an input (’Bode Alakija 2016: 238). 
  • As a result, those born in Britain inherit a ‘double consciousness,’ and in their everyday lives have to navigate these conflicting identities. 
  • Their heritage, she claims, is maintained by association, showcased by “social interplay and material symbols which accompany people from womb to tomb and much beyond” (’Bode Alakija 2016: 200, 238). 

Is British Nigerian the Answer? 

  • There is an indirect solution for the second-generationers, and this comes in the form of Nigerian English. This relatively new language, which many British Nigerians use amongst themselves and with wider communities, allows them to voice a long-distance nationalism by transferring “culture, sense or meaning from the native language[s] into English” (’Bode Alakija 2016: 200, 215). 
  • Ugwuanyi conveys that Nigerian English, as a subset of ‘World English,’ like other English varieties, moulds itself as “a living ‘being’ with its own vocabulary” during conversations by borrowing from local languages like Igbo and Yoruba, to create new abbreviations and blends (The Conversation: 2020). 
  • This reflects the histories and identities of the Nigerian diaspora as well as its “visual traditions”—which ’Bode Alakija argues builds on the “mythology, oral literature, storytelling, proverbs” passed down from generation to generation (’Bode Alakija 2016: 200)

Sources: 

  1. ’Bode Alakija, O. (2016) Mediating Home in Diaspora: Identity Construction of First and Second Generation Nigerian Immigrants in Peckham, London. PhD thesis. University of Leicester. pp.237-9. 
  2. ‘Giving back to English: How Nigerian words made it into the Oxford English Dictionary,’ The Conversation, Giving back to English: how Nigerian words made it into the Oxford English Dictionary (theconversation.com), accessed 28 Jun. 2023. 
  3. McEachron, G. and Bhatti, G. (2005) ‘Language Support for Immigrant Children: A Study of State Schools in the UK and US.’ Language, Culture and Curriculum. 18 (2). pp.164-180. 
  4. Okpokiri, C. G. (2017) First-Generation Nigerian Immigrant Parents and Child Welfare Issues in Britain. PhD thesis. University of Sussex. 
  5. ‘Preserving Nigeria’s Language Heritage,’ The Nation Newspaper, Preserving Nigeria’s language heritage | The Nation Newspaper (thenationonlineng.net), accessed 27 Jun. 2023. 
  6. Uzor Eze, K. and Igwenyi, E. E. (2016) ‘The Varieties and Features of Nigerian English Today.’ Awka Journal of Linguistics and Languages. Vol. 10. pp.105-122. 
  7. ‘Pre-Colonial and Living Visual Communication: Written and Ideographic Systems (The Silent Symbols prt.1)’ 
  8. As part of ‘Languages, Proverbs and Names’ By Amouraé Bhola-Chin, 6 July 2023. 

 
Introduction to Nigerian Information systems 

  • “Whether inscribed on ritual or everyday objects, textiles, the human body or in books,” these indigenous West African symbols and scripts become more than technologies of communication (National Museum of African Art: 2007). They begin to formulate themselves as a “rite of passage” to understanding the needs and philosophies of the Nigerian communities that they continue to be embraced by (’Bode Alakija 2016: 200). 
  • Nigerian forms play into this perfectly, as icons and indexes, for example, generally become to associate themselves with words (‘drum’), an image (wood and a shell attached by ropes and goat skin), sounds (the bass) and acts (the slap), and begin to transcend space, time and written forms (Abdullahi-Idiagbon 2009: 118). 

 
The Nsibidi, Nsibiri, Nchibiddi or Nchibiddy script 

  • Despite Eurocentric beliefs, this communication system disproves the notion that in the last millennium, West Africans didn’t have a written script prior to the colonial era. Nsibidi, as it is often called, has documented histories of native populations: making vast appearances, taking varying forms. 
  • From gestures, and on the ground, buildings and brassware, to the skin and on textiles (Effiong 2013: 1). 
  • It is amongst the oldest indigenous written systems of Africa, and is said to have spread amongst the ethnic groups living in what is in contemporary times known as Southeastern Nigeria (Effiong 2013: 1). It is now commonly associated with the Ejagham people and in Southwestern Cameroon, where it was adopted by the Igbo, Ibibios and Efiks, populations who have influenced the Nsibidi artistic depictions (Effiong 2013: 1). 
  • Following the dispersal of certain tribes from West and Central Africa during the Transatlantic slave trade, the Nsibidi system underwent alterations throughout the years, and as a result, travelled overseas to Cuba and Haiti, where it survives in the Anaforuana and Veve forms (Effiong 2013: 2). 
  • The script differs: with articles being used to refer to relationships and health while also acting as a language of trade, warfare and hierarchical structures (National Museum of African Art: 2007; Okpu 2015: 89). 
  • In doing so, in historic and more recent times, Nsibidi has been conveyed in distinctive styles – with some symbols relating to animals and others being numeric in value (Okpu 2015: 89). 
  • It continues to “dismantle linguistic barriers,” though it is not used as a spoken language. But it’s important to note that some researchers have traced some of their meanings to the Ekoid dialects (Effiong 2013: 1). 

 
Yoruba Àrokò system 

  • It’s a coding system (similar to the English morse code) as it can be implemented as a secretive language where no words are necessary to send a signal or sign (Information Parlour: 2021). 
  • This traditional practice utilises a three-way ‘body system’ – connecting the sender, materials and receiver to enable messages to be sent within close proximity, as well as acting to bridge people across longer distances (Information Parlour: 2021). 
  • The materials chosen, which can range from cowrie shells and kolanuts to flute notes and calabashes, hold great significance (Abdullahi-Idiagbon 2009: 126). Its quantity and positioning are left for the intended recipient — it’s up to them to interpret the content (Information Parlour: 2021).  
  • In recent centuries, the growth of modern communication facilities–due to colonialism and globalisation–has seen the dying out of Àrokò (Abdullahi-Idiagbon 2009: 126). This has been widened by the fact that “the art is confined to few, and mostly, old individuals,” so if there’s not a common knowledge of the practice, and its encoding and performance isn’t being practised, the Yoruba may face the extinction of one of their indigenous communicative systems (Abdullahi-Idiagbon 2009: 129). 

 
Uli / Uri artistic practice 

  • To the ancient women in the region of what is now known as Igboland, Uli was their rite of expression, which allowed them to exchange thoughts amongst themselves about everyday issues concerning spirituality, economics and education (Re-Entanglements: 2021). 
  • As an ancient system, “scarification and hairdressing, as well as wood-carving, metalwork, and textiles” all became a “form of communication, or a form of language” which has shifted overtime to fit the value system of the wider world (Re-Entanglements: 2021; Facebook: 2018). 
  • The motifs of the symbols differ depending on the region one’s in, and sets itself apart whilst it’s difficult to understand or implement it as a stand-alone language (Facebook: 2018). 
  • Hence, a woman’s outward appearance would embody itself as a personalised exhibition of her interpretations of that said topic. 
  • Sanders stands to agree that the framework of Uli writing predominates the Igbo peoples’ social, philosophical and political standing (Facebook: 2018). 
  • The practice had been dying out, when in the 1970s it was picked up by a group of Nigerian male artists, who would begin to use it as a visual language (Culture Trip: 2021).  
  • They became known as the Nsukka group, and are renowned for the mixed media portrayals that they’ve come to adopt. Many mimic the traditional materials the original scribes would’ve used, like fabrics; but they also find joy in experimenting with new matters such as bottle caps, metal wire and stones (Culture Trip: 2021). 

Sources: 

  1. Abdullahi-Idiagbon, M. S. (2009) ‘African Traditional Semiotics: The Example of ‘AR’OKO’ in Yoruba Tradition.’ Vol. 3. pp.115-134. 
  2. ’Bode Alakija, O. (2016) Mediating Home in Diaspora: Identity Construction of First and Second Generation Nigerian Immigrants in Peckham, London. PhD thesis. University of Leicester. pp.57, 200-208. 
  3. Effiong, P. (2013) ‘Nsibidi: Indigenous African Inscription.’ pp.1-7. 
  4. ‘Inscribing Meaning: Writing and Graphic Systems in african Art,’ National Museum of African Art, https://africa.si.edu/exhibits/inscribing/index1.html#:~:text=Inscribing%20Meaning%20explores%20the%20relationships,systems%20and%20the%20written%20word, accessed 2 Jul. 2023. 
  5. Okpu, O. (2015) ‘Nsibidi: An Artistic Expression and Communicative System in South Eastern Nigeria.’ arts and Design Studies. Vol. 29. pp.88-94. 
  6. Uli: Art and Archive,’ [Re]-Entanglement, https://re-entanglements.net/uli/, accessed 6 July. 2021. 
  7. Uli is the Igbo name for the Indigo Dye Obtained from Several Species of Plants Grown in the Eastern parts of Nigeria,’ Facebook, https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=1568662993202950, accessed 6 Jul. 2023. 
  8. ‘Bodily and Musical Devices: Non-verbal Dialogues in the Nigerian Community (The Unspoken Language prt.2)’ 

13 July 2023. 

  • Though many African cultures are fuelled by oral traditions, over time ideologies and traditions haven’t just been interpreted through oracy. If we take Abdullahi-Idiagbon’s conclusion as truth – that one’s values and experiences come to define meaning – the unspoken dialogue a British Nigerian and a British Caribbean person could have, should align with their hereditary practices (Abdullahi-Idiagbon 2009: 119). 

The Body: Storytime 

  • And it does, in many cases. Which is why, when meetings happen (especially involving members of older generations), a whole conversation could be had using only eye and lip movement. 
  • It then makes sense why responses (which are defined by cultural thought processes) are generally expressive: because interestingly, they embody the same communicative styles which would assist the griot in their storytelling (’Bode Alakija 2016: 200). 
  • When contextualising this practice via Nigerians, it’s clear that a transference of meaning and performance takes place from generation to generation; both are implied through representation: by using sound, movement or attire (Abdullahi-Idiagbon 2009: 119). 
  • So when we come to understand that language includes our everyday “treatment of time and space and material things,” we begin to recognise that it signals emotion through posture and gestures, for example (Abdullahi-Idiagbon 2009: 115). 
  • I’ll take a few facial expressions to illustrate this point. When one wrinkles their nose, it typically serves to cheapen, by highlighting disgust, but a pushed out upside smile, paired with a slow nod symbolises an older woman or man’s thinking: ‘You’re bright,’ or a precursor to punishment: ‘Hmm. Watch when we get home.’ 
  • The elusive meaning perceived in non-verbal messaging is further enriched by the use of the eyes, head, hands to narrate thoughts, feelings and troubles (Abdullahi-Idiagbon 2009: 125). 

 Clothing 

  • It is common, particularly in West African custom, that the design and material of one’s dress holds a deeper meaning, signifying personality traits or spiritual ties, while also shedding light on qualities held by the family and/or the wider tribe. 
  • With close analysis of the symbols (ie. cassava, a crown, lizards and the moon) used on the cloth, a story unfolds which operates to highlight the state of an individual’s domestic life. 
  • When done on a larger scale (as seen in the photograph below), a “unique cross between art and functionality” acts to document current social, economic and environmental conditions, which is of large importance during foreign encounters (Urbanknit: 2015). 
  • Looking to traditional Yoruba attire, it becomes commonplace for their textiles and prints to signify a person’s ranking within society (Abdullahi-Idiagbon 2009: 125). 
  • Hence, when weaving meaning into batik material using àdìrẹ patterning, Yorubas physically and figuratively “leave a piece of themselves on the fabric” (NBC Philadelphia: 2023). 
  • The manipulation of indigo leaves, for instance, resembles one’s reverence of The Most High, or an emblem of esteem within the community – often taking root from wisdom passed down by the elders (NBC Philadelphia: 2023; Urbanknit: 2015.

Music 

  • The context which British Nigerians began to forge their identity in was a brash one: especially in the decade of independence, of the 1960s. 
  • When you acknowledge the reception they arrived to in England – that they became “to the British… ‘aliens’ and ‘colonials,’ doomed to the hostility and prejudice of citizens,” it’s understandable why they desired to claim their own native voice (Blair 2015: 5; ’Bode Alakija 2016: 208). 
  • Through music, first-generation Nigerians fashioned for themselves, and the generations to come, symbolic identities which would mirror their traditions in Nigeria separate from their African-Caribbean counterparts (’Bode Alakija 2016: 57). 
  • When considering the spiritual and cultural significance of drums in West African countries like Nigeria, it makes sense why they are considered ‘talking drums’ – since the messages they send “follow the interrelation of human [oration]” (IROKO Theatre: 2020). 
  • Changing the pitch and speed of the notes closely echoes the speech tone patterns of the Yoruba language. In traditional settings, this would be heightened by the player’s repetition, whereby his motive communicates news from a long distance: ie. during a wedding or funeral procession (IROKO Theatre: 2020).  

Sources: 

  1. Abdullahi-Idiagbon, M. S. (2009) ‘African Traditional Semiotics: The Example of ‘AR’OKO’ in Yoruba Tradition.’ Vol. 3. pp.115-134. 
  2. ‘Adire Patterns: Storytelling through Adire,’ Urbanknit, Adire Patterns: Story Telling Through Adire – (urbanknit.com), accessed 23 Jul. 2023. 
  3. ’Bode Alakija, O. (2016) Mediating Home in Diaspora: Identity Construction of First and Second Generation Nigerian Immigrants in Peckham, London. PhD thesis. University of Leicester. pp.57, 200-208. 
  4. Blair, Thomas L. (2015) ‘The Been-to’s: Notes on Black Overseas Students in 1960s London.’ e-Black London Monograph Series. British Library. pp.1-12. 
  5. IROKO Theatre, ‘Speaking Without Voice’ IROKO Theatre, ‘Speaking Without Voice’

    , YouTube (uploaded 20 Mar. 2020), Speaking Without Voice – YouTube, accessed 13 Jul. 2023

  6. ‘Shining a Light on Nigerian Culture through Clothing,’ NBC Philadelphia, https://www.nbcphiladelphia.com/entertainment/philly-live/shining-a-light-on-nigerian-culture-through-clothing/3525651/, accessed 12 Jul. 2023.  
  7.  ‘Yoruba Naming Practices: Cultural Reclamation of Traditional Nigerian Names’ 
  8. 28 July 2023. 
  9. The Yorubas have one of the most spiritual naming traditions in the world. 
  10. – Oluwadolapo Olanrewaju Josh Sanya, 2022  
  11. Identity Crisis 
  12. Much of the Diaspora collectively struggle against dual identities, which becomes especially for those born away from the home that their cultural observances were rooted in – a real life testimony being “I am a British-born Nigerian, Yoruba-Christian” (Green Park: 2022). 
  13. When this is combined with the quelling of one’s voice and heritage, many have begun to adopt the English version of their name, ie. Josh, Lola, Mary (Green Park: 2022). 
  14. In recent times, however, many are making the conscious choice to align themselves with their birth names, which, in the mind of a British Nigerian doing the same thing, reflects “a paradigm shift in my mentality from ‘fitting in,’ to reclaiming my power” (Green Park: 2022). 
  15. ‘orúko àmútọ̀runwá’: Yoruba Naming Ceremony 
  16. If one were to observe the naming of a newborn child in Yorubaland, they would recognise that “the child’s [name, being] unique,” is a stamp of their identity (Green Park: 2022). This explains why the custom isn’t performed straight after childbirth, but seven days usually elapses before the dedication of the child (Green Park: 2022). 
  17. This has been in force since pre-colonial times. Yoruba parents would rely upon traditional priests to select a name that honours the child’s individual pathway (Green Park: 2022). After this, a procession would be held to commemorate the arrival of the child into the community (Green Park: 2022). 
  18. To many Africans today, this practice is still notably centred in the western region. 

Personal Names 

Our first name reflects the hopes and dreams of our parents and family, our culture, and our own sense of self.. – Himes, 2016 

A name is more than just a word as it may be in European societies: it’s a conversation-starter which can be the epitome of “a story, an ode, …a blessing” (Green Park: 2022). 

These are chosen to reflect the circumstances surrounding a child’s birth, namely the conception and the birth, ‘Taiwo’ symbolising a first born twin, ‘Tokunbo’ being chosen when a child is born overseas (Green Park: 2022; Your Voice: 2014). 

 

Family Names 

…our surname carries our ancestral history, a branding of both affiliation and transmission. – Himes, 2016 

Family names might indicate the traditional trade, ie. ‘Oniko’ resembles rafia makers; this is similar in relation to a family’s religious alignment – for example, Yoruba Muslims take Arabic names, like Abdul Karim (Your Voice: 2014). 

Some surnames, like ‘Sanya’ and ‘Adesanya,’ challenge the traditional theme of Yoruba names in the sense that it doesn’t have a prefix which correlates itself to Nigerian spiritual heritage via one’s connection to the native deities (Green Park: 2022). 

Surname:  Meaning: 
‘Sanya’  “Paid in suffering” 
‘Adesanya’  “The Crown avenges my suffering” 
‘Olusanya’   “God compensates for my suffering”  

‘A Brief History of Yoruba Names,’ Aug. 2022. 

Our proper name is as much a part of us as our own skin. It travels with us like a passport, testifying to our unique presence on this earth. The articulation of our name rolls off our tongue with ease and familiarity, yet we rarely turn and examine the part our name plays in what makes us who we are. – Himes, 2016 

 

Sources: 

  1. ‘#MyNameIs,’ Race Equality Matters, #MyNameIs – Race Equality Matters, accessed 28 Jul. 2023. 
  2. ‘Reclaiming My Name,’ Green Park, https://www.green-park.co.uk/news/reclaiming-my-name/s252010/, accessed 28 Jun. 2023. 
  3. ‘Yoruba Today by Viv Edwards,’ Your Voice: BBC Home, https://www.bbc.co.uk/voices/multilingual/yoruba.sht, accessed 30 Jun. 2023. 

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