Ina ya Simbegwire tja ṱa, eye wa ri noruhoze tjinene. Ihe ya Simbegwire aa kondjo pu pa yenene okutumba okakazona ke. Kouṱiṱiṱiṱi, ovo va uta okukara nohange rukwao nokuhina ina ya Simbegwire. Omuhukomunene auhe aave haama pamwe nokutwapasana kutja mave ungura tjike meyuva ndo. Omapeta ayehe aave tereke pamwe eriro rongurova. Tji va zu nokukoha ovitjuma, ihe ya Simbegwire ee mu vatere noviungura vyosikore.
When Simbegwire’s mother died,
she was very sad. Simbegwire’s
father did his best to take care of
his daughter. Slowly, they learned
to feel happy again, without
Simbegwire’s mother.
Every morning they sat and talked
about the day ahead. Every evening
they made dinner together. After
they washed the dishes,
Simbegwire’s father helped her with
homework.
Eyuva rimwe, ihe ya Simbegwire wa womba okukotoka konganda. “U ri pi muatje wandje?” eye wa ravaere. Eye wa utuka okuyenda ku ihe. Eye wa handa tja munu kutja ihe wa ṱiza omukazendu keke. “Ami me vanga kutja mu hakaene nomundu wapeke ingwi, muatje wandje. Eye oAnita,” wa hungire ama meṱameṱa.
One day, Simbegwire’s father came
home later than usual. “Where are
you my child?” he called.
Simbegwire ran to her father. She
stopped still when she saw that he
was holding a woman’s hand. “I
want you to meet someone special,
my child. This is Anita,” he said
smiling.
“Halo Simbegwire, iho we ndji raere ovingi ohunga na ove,” Anita wa tja.” Posiya eye ke na pa meṱameṱa poo okuhanda eke ra Simbegwire. Ihe ya Simbegwire wa ri nondjoroka tjinene. Eye aa hungire ohunga na indu ovo aveetatu tji mave ya okukara pamwe, nokutja mave hupu vi. “Muatje wandje, ami me zeri kutja ove mo yakura Anita otja nyoko,” eye wa tja.
“Hello Simbegwire, your father told
me a lot about you,” said Anita. But
she did not smile or take the girl’s
hand.
Simbegwire’s father was happy and
excited. He talked about the three
of them living together, and how
good their life would be. “My child, I
hope you will accept Anita as your
mother,” he said.
Omuinyo wa Simbegwire wa runduruka. Kapa ri noruveze eye na ihe ndwaave haama pamwe rukwao muhukomunene. Anita ee mu ungurisa tjinene ngandu ndi tjaa urwa tjinene na ha kara noruveze okuungura oviungura vye vyosikore. Kombunda yeriro rongurova eye aa kahita okurara. Otjirare tjovivara pekepeke tja perwe i ina otjaatji mu yorokisa atjiyerike uriri. Ihe ya Simbegwire kaa roro okumuna kutja okakazona ke kake na ohange kaparukaze.
Simbegwire’s life changed. She no
longer had time to sit with her
father in the mornings. Anita gave
her so many household chores that
she was too tired to do her school
work in the evenings. She went
straight to bed after dinner.
Her only comfort was the colourful
blanket her mother gave her.
Simbegwire’s father did not seem to
notice that his daughter was
unhappy.
Kombunda yomieze katjondumba, ihe ya Simbegwire we ve raera kutja ma i kwarwe oure wokaruve okasupi. “Ami me piti noviungura kwarwe,” eye wa tja. “Nu me tjiwa kutja eṋe mamu ṱizasana nawa.” Omurungu wa Simbegwire wa tivara posiya ingwi ihe ka mwine. Anita wa mwina kumwi. Eye wina kari nohange.
After a few months, Simbegwire’s
father told them that he would be
away from home for a while. “I have
to travel for my job,” he said. “But I
know you will look after each other.”
Simbegwire’s face fell, but her
father did not notice. Anita did not
say anything. She was not happy
either.
Oviṋa nambano avi rire oviruru ku Simbegwire. Tje ha manene oviungura vye poo tji ma unauna, Anita ee mu tono. Periro rongurova, omukazendu aa ri ovikurya imbi ovingi, Simbegwire a pewa ouṋa mbwa hupisa. Ongurova aihe Simbegwire otjaa riri ngunda e rivaranga motjirare tjaina nga tja rara.
Things got worse for Simbegwire. If
she didn’t finish her chores, or she
complained, Anita hit her. And at
dinner, the woman ate most of the
food, leaving Simbegwire with only
a few scraps.
Each night Simbegwire cried herself
to sleep, hugging her mother’s
blanket.
Omuhukomunene umwe Simbegwire wa womba okupenduka. “Kakazona oove kotjirweyo!” eye wa tjene. Eye wa pukira Simbegwire pehi. Otjirare tje otjihuze tja haka momboha nu atji tauka motumbembera tuvari.
One morning, Simbegwire was late
getting out of bed. “You lazy girl!”
Anita shouted. She pulled
Simbegwire out of bed. The
precious blanket caught on a nail,
and tore in two.
Simbegwire wa hihamwa omutima tjinene. Eye wa tya okuhena okuzapo ponganda. Eye wa toora imbwi oumbembera wokarare ke, a toora oukurya nu arire tja kaenda okuzapo ponganda. Eye wa kaenda mondjira indji ihe ndja twara.
Simbegwire was very upset. She
decided to run away from home.
She took the pieces of her mother’s
blanket, packed some food, and left
the house. She followed the road
her father had taken.
Ongurova tji ye ya, eye wa ronda komuti omure meṋe yoruramba nu e ri ungurire okambete motutavi twomuti. Tji ma utu okurara, wa imbura: “Mamaa, mamaa, mamaa, ove we ndji esa. Ove we ndji esa nu ko kotoka rukwao. Tate ke ndji suverere rukwao. Mama, ove mo kotoka ruṋe? Ove we ndji esa.”
When it came to evening, she
climbed a tall tree near a stream
and made a bed for herself in the
branches.
As she went to sleep, she sang:
“Maama, maama, maama, you left
me.
You left me and never came back.
Father doesn’t love me anymore.
Mother, when are you coming back?
You left me.”
Eyuva ependukirwa, Simbegwire wa imbura eimburiro ndo rukwao. Ovakazendu tji ve ya okukoha ozombanda zavo moruramba, va zuva eimburiro roruhoze okuza komuti omure. Ovo va nangarisi ombepo ndji mai nyinganyingisa oviyao uriri, nu ave kaenda komurungu noviungura vyavo. Posiya umwe wovakazendu wa puratena nawa keimburiro ndo.
The next morning, Simbegwire sang
the song again. When the women
came to wash their clothes at the
stream, they heard the sad song
coming from the tall tree.
They thought it was only the wind
rustling the leaves, and carried on
with their work. But one of the
women listened very carefully to
the song.
Omukazendu ngwi wa tara kombanda yomuti. Eye tja muna okakazona notjirare tjako, tjovivara, wa ravaera, “Simbegwire, kanatje komuṱena kwandje!” Ovakazendu imba ovarwe va isire okukoha nu ave vatere okuherura Simbegwire komuti. Hongaze we rivaranga mu ye nu a roro okumuhuhumiṋa.
This woman looked up into the tree.
When she saw the girl and the
pieces of colourful blanket, she
cried, “Simbegwire, my brother’s
child!”
The other women stopped washing
and helped Simbegwire to climb
down from the tree. Her aunt
hugged the little girl and tried to
comfort her.
Hongaze ya Simbegwire we mu twara konganda ye. Eye wa pa Simbegwire ovikurya ovipyu nawa, e mu hitisa mombete ne mu kutjire nokarare kaina. Ouṱuku mbwo Simbegwire wa rara ama riri. Nungwari owo ya ri omahoze wondjoroka. Eye aa tjiwa kutja hongaze me mu ṱiza nawa.
Simbegwire’s aunt took the child to
her own house. She gave
Simbegwire warm food, and tucked
her in bed with her mother’s
blanket.
That night, Simbegwire cried as she
went to sleep. But they were tears
of relief. She knew her aunt would
look after her.
Ihe ya Simbegwire tja kotoka ponganda, wa muna kutja Simbegwire ke mo metuwo re. “Pa kaenda tjike, Anita?” eye wa pura nomuhihamwatima. Omukazendu wa kahurura kutja Simbegwire wa hena. “Ami ee vanga kutja a kare nondengero na ami,” eye wa tja. “Nu ngahino mba ri omukukutu tjinene.” Ihe ya Simbegwire wa pita na hungama munda woruramba. Eye wa kapita kotjirongo ku kwa tura omuṱena ma kapure kutja naṋi wa rora okumuna Simbegwire.
When Simbegwire’s father returned
home, he found her room empty.
“What happened, Anita?” he asked
with a heavy heart. The woman
explained that Simbegwire had run
away. “I wanted her to respect me,”
she said. “But perhaps I was too
strict.”
Simbegwire’s father left the house
and went in the direction of the
stream. He continued to his sister’s
village to find out if she had seen
Simbegwire.
Simbegwire wa ri ama nyanda pamwe novaramwe tja muna ihe ama ende kokure. Eye wa urumine tjinga aa munu kutja ihe ngahino wa pindika, nu arire tja purukutire mondjuwo okukaṱara. Nungwari ihe wa ya ku ye na tja, “Simbegwire, ove we ripahera nyoko omusemba. Nyoko ngwe ku suvera nu ngu ku zuva nawa. Ami mbi nomutongatima na ove nu mbe ku suvera.” Ovo va zuvasana kutja Simbegwire ma kara pu na hongaze orure otja pu ma vanga.
Simbegwire was playing with her
cousins when she saw her father
from far away. She was scared he
might be angry, so she ran inside
the house to hide.
But her father went to her and said,
“Simbegwire, you have found a
perfect mother for yourself. One
who loves you and understands
you. I am proud of you and I love
you.”
They agreed that Simbegwire would
stay with her aunt as long as she
wanted to.
Ihe ee kemuvarura eyuva arihe. Harukuru eye we keya pu na Anita. Eye wa yandja eke ku Simbegwire. “Ndji isira kandu kandje, ami mba zunḓa tjinene,” eye wa tja. “Mo ndji yandjere kutja mbi rore rukwao?” Simbegwire wa tara momurungu wa ihe mbu na ongendo. Eye wa ryama okapaze nokapaze ne rivaranga mu Anita.
Her father visited her every day.
Eventually, he came with Anita. She
reached out for Simbegwire’s hand.
“I’m so sorry little one, I was
wrong,” she cried. “Will you let me
try again?”
Simbegwire looked at her father
and his worried face. Then she
stepped forward slowly and put her
arms around Anita.
Otjivike ihi otjarwe, Anita wa ṋanga Simbegwire, pu na novaramwe na hongaze kutja ve yekurya pamwe. Ihi otjimukandi! Anita wa terekere ovikurya avihe imbi Simbegwire mbya suvera, nu avehe va rya nga tji ve kuta. Kuzamba imba ovanatje va kauta okunyanda ngunda imba ovanene amave serekarere. Simbegwire ee rimunu ohange nouvanḓe. Eye we ripura kutja, tjimanga nai, ma kotoka konganda okukakara pamwe na ihe na ina.
The next week, Anita invited
Simbegwire, with her cousins and
aunt, to the house for a meal. What
a feast! Anita prepared all of
Simbegwire’s favourite foods, and
everyone ate until they were full.
Then the children played while the
adults talked.
Simbegwire felt happy and brave.
She decided that soon, very soon,
she would return home to live with
her father and her stepmother.
