Ingwi oKhalai. Eye u na ozombura hambombari. Ena re ri heya kutja ’ ingwi omusemba’ meraka ndi Olubukusu.
This is Khalai. She is seven years old. Her name means ‘the good one’ in her language, Lubukusu.
Khalai omuhukomunene tja penduka wa hungirisa omuti woviyaporosine. “Arikana muti woviyaparosine, kura tjinene u tu pe oviyaporosine ovingi mbya hora.”
Khalai wakes up and talks to the orange tree. “Please orange tree, grow big and give us lots of ripe oranges.”
Khalai mondjira okuyenda kosikore wa hungirisa ehozu. “Arikana hozu, hapuka nawa nu ngoo roro okukuta.”
Khalai walks to school. On the way she talks to the grass. “Please grass, grow greener and don’t dry up.”
Khalai wa kapita pozongara zokuti. “Arikana zongara, pwee nawa kutja mbi mu pate kozondjise zandje.”
Khalai passes wild flowers. “Please flowers, keep blooming so I can put you in my hair.”
Posikore, Khalai wa hungirisa omuti imbwi mbu ri mokatikati. “Arikana muti, hapa otutavi otunene kutja eṱe tu resere motjizire tjoye.”
At school, Khalai talks to the tree in the middle of the compound. “Please tree, put out big branches so we can read under your shade.”
Khalai wa hungirisa oumuti mbwa kondoroka osikore. “Arikana u muti potee nawa kutja mu tjaere ovandu ovavi okuhita mwi.”
Khalai talks to the hedge around her school. “Please grow strong and stop bad people from coming in.”
Khalai wa yaruka konganda okuza kosikore, eye wa i komuti woviyaporosine. “Oviyaporosine vyoye ngamba kavi ya hora?” Khalai wa pura.
When Khalai returns home from school, she visits the orange tree. “Are your oranges ripe yet?” asks Khalai.
“Oviyaporosine ngamba omangura,” Khalai wa tjeme. “Matu wana muhuka muti woviyaporosine,” Khalai wa tja. “Ngahino otji mo kara notjiyaporosine tjimwe tji tja horo ku ami!”
“The oranges are still green,” sighs Khalai. “I will see you tomorrow orange tree,” says Khalai. “Perhaps then you will have a ripe orange for me!”
