Contemplating the variety of salutations and titles we bestow upon ourselves
One of my late uncles was a surgeon at a teaching hospital. Surprisingly, his official prefix was “Mr” instead of the more common “Dr” prefix. I vividly recall my astonishment upon seeing the nameplate on the door of his office. I couldn’t help but wonder why he chose “Mr” over “Dr”. Considering that medical students eagerly anticipate graduation so that they can be addressed as “Dr This” and “Dr That”, why would an experienced doctor opt for “Mr” instead?
Although I never had the chance to ask him, I eventually discovered the reason many years later. In the United Kingdom, male surgeons distinguish themselves from physicians by maintaining the title of “Mr.” This practice originated in the early 19th century when physicians were more commonly doctors with a university medical degree, while surgeons often lacked formal qualifications. As surgeons underwent formal training and the demand for their skills grew, they felt it was important to differentiate themselves from physicians by preserving the “Mr” title. My uncle, being a member of the Royal College of Surgeons, adhered to this tradition. It became a badge of honour for members of the college, and those unaware of its significance would soon realise that the title did, indeed, matter.
Traditionally, societies have employed titles and salutations such as Sir, Madam, Master, Mr, Miss, and Ms Everyone can select a title from this list to suit their circumstances. Furthermore, professionals who have completed specific training programmes and obtained certifications are bestowed with titles like Professor, Engineer, Pharmacist, Doctor, Surveyor, and so on. Religious leaders are also afforded appropriate titles, including Alhaji, Pastor, Reverend, Bishop, and others. Similarly, the armed forces place great emphasis on the correct titles that reflect ranks. Just imagine addressing a Major-General as Major! In our multicultural society, leaders of diverse cultures bear titles like Chief, Prince, Princess, Oba, Igwe, Sultan, Obong, and more.
Titles hold great appeal for many people, especially Nigerians who, it seems, have a particular affinity for them. We can be quite fastidious about the salutations we identify with. I recall someone telling me once about a “big man” who visited his office and refused to complete a form because his preferred salutation was not listed. If we were to accommodate all the possible salutations in official documentation, we would likely need at least two pages to list them all!
I am often amazed by individuals who adopt more than one title. You may have come across a “High Chief (Engr) Tomi,” “Princess (Prof) Mrs Dike,” “Chief (Prof) Engr. Haruna,” or “Alhaja (Pharm) Dr Mrs Ire.” I once saw a newspaper advert for someone’s birthday celebration, and the celebrant had about five listed titles! I couldn’t help but wonder if that was how she was formally addressed, as it would certainly be quite a mouthful. Is there ever a compelling reason to list more than two titles, at most, in official correspondence?
Titles hold significant meaning for individuals. Newly minted medical doctors are quick to introduce themselves with their new prefixes. PhD students, upon completing their final viva voce and achieving their new status, are eager to remind others that they are now “Drs.” Even some recipients of honorary doctorates are swift to print complimentary cards bearing the Dr prefix, although the legitimacy of some of these awards may require investigation. Lawyers, too, have their preferences, with some opting to be addressed as “Barrister,” although I have been told that it is not an official title. But can we blame them? After all, at least six years of professional training should count for something.
Titles also carry importance within society, and we are keen on upholding the status quo. I recall a time when I hosted a friend’s book reading event and mistakenly addressed the book reviewer, Reuben Abati, with the wrong title. Everyone knew him; he had served as a newspaper editor and was a special adviser to President Goodluck Jonathan on media and publicity. I had done my research beforehand, having gathered all the details about his education and experience. However, I somehow committed a faux pas. I introduced him as “Mr Abati,” but immediately realised my mistake. I attempted to correct myself, but it was too late. The guests began shouting, “he is Dr Abati!!!” I felt embarrassed, especially considering he held a PhD, which he had earned legitimately. Thankfully, he forgave me.
Growing up, I never gave much thought to titles. I guess I became more aware once I entered the workforce. During my time at the university, I attended a campus fellowship that had student leaders. When I first mentioned it to my father and referred to the leaders as “pastors,” he asked if they had been ordained by a church or Bible school. I couldn’t confirm if they had, which further puzzled him as he couldn’t understand why I would call them pastors. I explained that it was a mark of respect for the positions they held, and everyone followed suit. He questioned whether such titles might make them feel superior to others, I can’t recall what my response was.
Our fondness for titles in Nigeria likely stems from our high power distance level. As a society, we treat those in authority and those we deem superior to others as if they were mini-gods. Addressing someone with the wrong title is often considered a direct insult. Titles serve as a means for individuals to establish their perceived superiority over others, reinforcing the connection between education and a sense of superiority.
I believe our love for titles is akin to the expectation of addressing older individuals by titles rather than by their names. This is why we employ buffers such as “senior, brother, sister, aunty, uncle, mummy, daddy, and oga,” as simply using their names wouldn’t suffice.
Ultimately, we should all be mindful of the significance and impact of titles and salutations in our communication. If individuals prefer to be addressed in a particular way, we should respect their wishes. Using appropriate titles demonstrates respect, which is crucial for maintaining harmonious relationships.
If you find yourself in an unfamiliar environment or are unsure about someone’s preferred titles, it is perfectly acceptable to ask them, especially if it is evident that they value being addressed in a specific manner. Hopefully, we can eventually move beyond attaching a sense of superiority to titles. Perhaps when we do, the craze for acquiring excessive and frivolous titles will cease. This is the way I see things today.