About me

A Name Woven in Legacy

Names carry weight. They echo lineage, whisper stories, and root us in place and identity. A name can speak of our parents, hint at ancestral cities, or even evoke moments in history that shaped our arrival into the world.

I was named Dianne Novanita Dunchie, a name layered with memory, heritage, and intention.

The name Dianne was a gift, albeit a bureaucratic accident. My Aunt Princess had originally chosen Dionne after the singer, Dionne Warwick, but as often happens in the quiet chaos of birth registrations, the official record bore the name Dianne instead. We embraced it, as many families did during the 1970s and 80s, when names like Dianne and Diana were favoured in Jamaica, inspired by British naming trends and the regal allure of Princess Diana.

My mother, in her blend of pragmatism and poetry, gave me the name Novanita. Around the time I was born, a racehorse in Jamaica who was swift, strong, and triumphant had captured the nation’s attention. Her name was Novanita, and my mother, seeing a winner in her newborn child, declared me destined for victory. So the name stayed, etched into my identity as both blessing and prophecy.

My surname is a story of two continents, two histories entwined.

Dunchie, my father’s name, is rich with ancestral resonance. It is found in Ghana as the name of a populated area, hinting at West African roots, while also appearing in Scottish lineage reflecting an echo of colonial intersections and diasporic complexity.

Coley, my husband’s name, joined mine through marriage to form Dunchie-Coley. It is a name with layered meaning as well, often interpreted to mean “swarthy,” “dark-skinned,” or “charcoal place.” A reminder of both the literal and symbolic weight carried by Blackness, ancestry, and presence.

Together, my names carry continents, family ties, and the unapologetic declaration that I belong to histories, to victories, and to a lineage far deeper than paper can record. 

I carry the name Dianne Novanita Dunchie-Coley with deep pride and unwavering reverence. Each part of it tells a story of family, of legacy, of cultural intersections that stretch across oceans and generations. It is more than a name; it is a declaration of where I come from, who I belong to, and the strength of the lineage I represent. Worn not merely as identification, but as inheritance, it grounds me in purpose and honours those whose journeys made mine possible.

My father, Rennie Dunchie, never fathered a son, and so I wear his name with fierce devotion as both daughter and legacy bearer. I will carry it to the end, not only as a symbol of who I am, but as a tribute to the man whose name, features and values shaped the very foundation of my being.