What's in a Name? Ask the "Mother of Cows"

My name is Noonkishu. In the Kimasai language, I am “mother of cows.”

The name was conferred in November 2025, by a large man with a booming voice who was wearing a plaid kilt and pounding on a church podium, leaving no option but to accept even for someone once chased by a bull and from then on terrified of bovines.

And so I pretend it's as cool as being a mother of dragons, and truly realize there's something far beyond cool about being named after cows in the Maasai Mara of Kenya.

On even one visit, you quickly see how cows are king—and queen. Maasai bomas or traditional

villages are built in a circle of protection. There's a thorny fence on the outer ring, then the huts in which extended members of the same family live. In the center—most protected—are the cows.

The men and boys take the cows into pasture land by day, but the women are in charge of milking. And that milk is critical, in many cases the only part of a Maasai diet—in afternoons mixed with their Chai—other than the ubiquitous ugali (a mush made of cornmeal).

But cows are more than a source of milk. As one Maasai friend puts it, this pastoral community regards cows as wealth straight from God. “They're so essential to the Maasai, they're the source of money, dowry and prestige.”

A man with many cows is permitted to marry as many wives as he wants because cows are the main currency for a dowry paid by a man to the family of the would-be bride (or brides). But cows are key to marriage, even as the Maasai increasingly opt for monogamy. In another friend's clan, the dowry price paid from a man's family to a woman's consists always of three cows and one sheep, each animal symbolizing one of the parents in the newly-forming family.

With many cows, someone also is conferred community status, respect and leadership positions. Perhaps even more interesting is the deep emotional bond the Maasai have with their cattle, recognizing them by their voice and body language, even singing them songs not unlike a lullaby during milking. And there's my favorite role as grantor of a clean slate. When two people quarrel then forgive one another, they often gift a cow to “wash off the bad things they did to one another.”

In the legend that inspired my name, Noonkishu brings unexpected blessings to a village. My name-granter at the podium shared a bit of that while talking about the water system my husband and I had gifted to the church as a way to provide cleaner water (through rainwater flowed into barrels) for the surrounding village. We hadn't thought much of it until his speech.

That (and through the dozen similar speeches that followed) was the first time we learned that prior to the system, everyone in the village had typhoid, many dying from it. Now, he and the other speakers shared, they are all well. Not one villager has the disease.

Through misty eyes, we realized what a life-saving difference even a small donation can make. It's this and similar stories that inspired what is now the Uplift Travel foundation.

What's in a name?

You can name a person after a cow; but you can't name a cow after a person.

According to my friend Dickson Lepapa, a Maasai principal, pastor and community activist, there are cow naming conventions you aren't to stray from. You don't name a cow until it gives birth (because the name is a way to keep track of it when milking). Then, you name a cow after one of three things: The way it looks (spotty; brownie; etc); the way it acts (for the cow I “attempted” to milk, I suggested “kicky,” and for the season in which you bought or received that cow.

To learn about the Maasai's trademark generosity, read the book 14 Cows for America.

This book is the story of the way Kimeli, a Maasai student from a remote part of the Mara, was so moved by the attacks on the World Trade Center on 9-11 (which he witnessed while visiting New York City), he returned home to his village to ask, “What can we do for these poor people?” In response, the tribe came together to offer a total of 14 cows – their most sacred symbol – to the people of America, gifting them to a visiting ambassador in a special ceremony.

To return some of that generosity and help some of the most needy Maasai women in a very real way, ask about our Cows for Women project. We help to support the abused women and widows living in the Kileleoni Cultural Village as they cooperatively purchase cows. Women historically have not been allowed to purchase or own them individually, but these women pool $3 a month toward buying cows and sharing the milk. To join the cooperative, click here!