Onhele ya finana yomafikameno oubesa vanini momukunda wetu oya li i yadi ovanhu neebesa da londeka sha pitilila. Pedu opa li eendongelwa da ndubalala da telela okulondekwa. Ovalondeki okwa li tava ingida omadina eenhele oko okwa yuka eebesa davo.
The small bus stop in my village was busy with people and overloaded buses. On the ground were even more things to load. Touts were shouting the names where their buses were going.
“Koshilando! Koshilando! Otwa yuka koutokelo!” Onda uda omulondeki ta ingida. Obesa ei oyo nda pumbwa okulefa.
“City! City! Going west!” I heard a tout shouting. That was the bus I needed to catch.
Obesa ya yuka koshilando konyala oi yadi, ashike natango ovanhu vahapu okwa li tave lifininike va hala okulonda. Vamwe ova li va longela eendongelwa davo koshi yobesa. Vamwe okwa li va longela eendongelwa davo momakololo omeni lobesa.
The city bus was almost full, but more people were still pushing to get on. Some packed their luggage under the bus. Others put theirs on the racks inside.
Ovatwaalelwa vape ova li va kumatela outekete vavo pefimbo tava kongo apa tava kala omutumba mobesa i yadi ngofenya. Ovakulukadi ava va li nounona ova li tave va ningi nawa noku va longekidila olweendo.
New passengers clutched their tickets as they looked for somewhere to sit in the crowded bus. Women with young children made them comfortable for the long journey.
Ame nde lifininika lwopekende. Omunhu ou twa shaama naye okwa li e kwate onailona yaye ingeline e i diinina. Okwa li a djala eenghaku deesandala da kulupa, nondjafa ya pomboka, ye okwa li ta monika a mbadapala.
I squeezed in next to a window. The person sitting next to me was holding tightly to a green plastic bag. He wore old sandals, a worn out coat, and he looked nervous.
Onda tala pondje yobesa nonda koneka nhumbi handi fii po omukunda wetu, onhele omo nda kulila. Okwa li nda yuka koshilando shinene.
I looked outside the bus and realised that I was leaving my village, the place where I had grown up. I was going to the big city.
Okulondeka eendongelwa okwa pwa, novatwaalelwa aveshe ova li omutumba. Ovalandifi natango ova li tave lifininike va hala okuya meni lobesa va ka landife oilandifomwa yavo kovatwaalelwa. Keshe umwe okwa li ta ingida edina laasho a li ta landifa. Oitya oya li iyolifa kwaame.
The loading was completed and all passengers were seated. Hawkers still pushed their way into the bus to sell their goods to the passengers. Everyone was shouting the names of what was available for sale. The words sounded funny to me.
Ovatwaalelwa vomuvalu munini ova landa oikunwa, vo vamwe tava lande oukokotomwa ndele tava tameke tava taafina. Ava vali vehe na oimaliwa ngaashi ame otwa kala ashike hatu ondola omesho.
A few passengers bought drinks, others bought small snacks and began to chew. Those who did not have any money, like me, just watched.
Elipyakidilo eli okwa li la piyaanekwa keshiko lombeda yobesa, okuulika kutya obesa otai katuka. Ovalondeki ova ingida opo ovalandifi va dje mo va ye pondje.
These activities were interrupted by the hooting of the bus, a sign that we were ready to leave. The tout yelled at the hawkers to get out.
Ovalandifi ova li tava undulafana va yuka pondje tava d mo mobesa. Vamwe ova yandja eeshendja koonakuya mondjila. Omanga vamwe natango ova li tava kendabala nokulandifa shihapu.
Hawkers pushed each other to make their way out of the bus. Some gave back change to the travellers. Others made last minute attempts to sell more items.
Obesa oya katuka okudja pokapale, onda li handi tale mekende. Okwa li nda limbililwa ngeenge onandi ka alukile ko ngaho komukunda wetu.
As the bus left the bus stop, I stared out of the window. I wondered if I would ever go back to my village again.
Molweendo, meni lobesa okwa li mwa pupyala neenghono. Onda fifikina nelineekelo ngeno ndi kofe po.
As the journey progressed, the inside of the bus got very hot. I closed my eyes hoping to sleep.
Omadilaadilo ange okwe lishuna keumbo. Meme ota kala ngaho meameno? Oundiba vange otava eta ngaho oimaliwa? Omumwamememati ota dimbulukwa tuu a tekele oumuti vange?
But my mind drifted back home. Will my mother be safe? Will my rabbits fetch any money? Will my brother remember to water my tree seedlings?
Mondjila yokuya, onda kala handi lidimbulukifa edina lonhele oko tatekulu ha kala moshilando shinene. Onda li natango handi li tumbula nokweendulula omadina aa pefimbo olo handi lendenga keemhofi.
On the way, I memorised the name of the place where my uncle lived in the big city. I was still mumbling it when I fell asleep.
Konima yeevili omuowoi, onda penduka keingido nengwadjaulo laavo tava kongo ovo va hala ovatwaalelwa ava tava tava i komukunda tava di moshilando. Onda vakula po okandjato kange ndele handi heluka mo mobesa.
Nine hours later, I woke up with loud banging and calling for passengers going back to my village. I grabbed my small bag and jumped out of the bus.
Mepakumo leisho obesa yokushuna ovanhu komikunda oya hada meendelelo. Otai ninngi i katuke nokuli ya yuka koushilo oko ya dile. Osho shi na oshilonga kwaame paife okutameka okukonga opo pa ama eumbo latatekulu.
The return bus was filling up quickly. Soon it would make its way back east. The most important thing for me now, was to start looking for my uncle’s house.
