ǁ’Aea Simbegwire ǁ’a ha taqe ǃai, ha ǃka koh nǃobe ta’am ǀkau. Simbegwire ǁ’a ha ba koh nǁuri ha ko ha gǀaohsi ǁ’a ha ǃ’uin ha ǂxae. Koqesi si nǃaroh ǃka nǀa’ng ko xabe ka Simbegwire ǁ’a ha taqe koara. Nǃoma nǀui woaqnke siǃa gǃho ka nǂoahn gǀa’anǃang tciasi. Gǃoah nǀui waqnke siǃa du ǀ’a siǃa waqnsi ko gǃoah ‘ma. Ka siǃa ǁka toan tansi, Simbegwire ǁ’a ha ba ku huia ha ko tjuǀho ǁkoasi.
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.
ǀAm nǀui, Simbegwire ǁ’a ha ba tsi ǂaeh ǂoan tca ǁxoasi ha oo tsi ǂaeha. “Mi da’ama kore a o?” ha koe ǃ’au. Simbegwire ǃaah gǀaea ha ba. Ha nǃomtsau ko ka ha se he ha ǁae dshau gǃau. “Mi kare ka a ho ju gǀaoha he, mi da’ama. Anita hin he,” ha zoma te koe nǁae.
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.
“Ehee Simbegwire, a ba nǂoahn mi ko tcisa ǂ’hai ko a tci oa,” Anita koe nǁae. Te ha tia ǀoa zoma nǀang gu dshauma gǃau. Simbegwire ǁ’a ha ba zoquin te ha ǃka tsau. Ha nǂoahn tca siǃa nǃani ku oo ǃxoana ǁkaea, kosin tca ǀxoah ku oo jan ǀ’an siǃa. “Mi ǂxae mi ǂum tca a te zaihan Anita ko tca ha te o a taqe, “ha koe nǁae.
“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.
Simbegwire ǁ’a ha ǀxoah mani. Ha ǁa’ike koara ǁ’aea o ha ba ku nǀang ǀxoa ko nǃoma. Anita ku ǀ’an ha ko ǁkoa sa ǂhai ko ǃaoh, ka nǂai ǁ’huin ha ka ha ǀoa du ha skore ǁkoasi ko gǃoahsi. Ka ha ‘m toan gǃoa ‘ma ha sin to ka ua ha gǃahm. Ka nǀaea nǂai nǀa’nga ha ǃka o nǂahma kxae ǂ’usi he ha taqe ǀ’an ha. Simbegwire ǁ’a ha ba ko ǀoa ho tca ha ǂxae ǃka te ta’am ǀkau.
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.
Ka nǃui sa ǀkoromh ǂaun, Simbegwire ǁ’a ba ǃoa sa te ko ha te kxaice nǁah tjuǀho ka u ko ǁ’aema ǃoma. “Mi u ǁkoasi tcioa,” ha koe nǁae. “Mi ǃ’han tca itsa te ǁau ǃ’uian khoe.” Simbegwire ǀ’hotzana, ha ba ǀoa ǃ’han. Anita sin ǀoa nǁa tci nǀui. Ha ǃka xabe koh ǀoa nǀa’ng.
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.
Tcisi ǀoa ǁau jan ǀ’an Simbegwire. Ka ha ǀoa du toan ǃaoh ǁkoasi, he nǁan gǃxa ha tih, Anita nǂam ha. Te gǃoa ‘ma, ha dshau ku ‘m ‘ma nǃa’an. Ka nǁah ǀ’an ha ko ‘ma tzema. Ko gǀu gǃoah waqnsi Simbegwire gǀae tjin tjin ka ǁahǁah ha ǀ’ae ko ha taqe nǂahm ka cu.
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.
ǀAm nǀui, Simbegwire ǀoa ǂxai ko ha gǃahm ǃ’o. “A o dshauma ǀkanǀkana!” Anita koe ǃ’au. Te ǁhai khaurua Simbegwire ko gǃahm ǃ’o. Te nǂahm ǂam ha ǀkai ǃ’uru te ǁaq’in nǃang tsaqn.
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 ǃka koh ho te ta’am ǀkau. Ha ǁ’ae te ko ha te ku gǀaia ǃaoh. Ha nǀhui ha taqe nǂahm ǃabisi, te nǀhui ‘m mh gesin te u. Ha nǃuan nǃama ha ba koh nǂau ǁkoasi he nǃuan.
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.
Te ka ha tsia gǃoah, ha ǂxuru ǃaihan gǂa’in ko gǃu tzi, te dua gǃahm ko ǃaihn ǁ’hausi. Te ka du ǀ’an tza, ha ge’e: “Aiia, Aiia, Aiia, a nǁah mi. A nǁah me te sin ǀoa ce nǀm ǀam. Mba ǁa’ike ǀoa are me. Aia, ǁ’aea nere a ce tsi? A nǁah mi.”
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.”
Te nǃoma, Simbegwire cete ge’e ǁ’a ge’ea. Te ǁ’ae dshausi tsi ǂaeha dohm, ǁ’a si ǁka ǃxaisi si ku tsa’a ǃka ta’am ǀkau ge’ea ǁama ǃaihan gǂa’in nǀai ǃka. Si koh ǂ’ang te ko ka te ǃaihn nǃu’ubusi sa ǃaihn te tia ge te du tca si ǁkoa. Te ǁau te ǂaeǂae ǁ’a ge’ea.
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.
Dshaua he se ǃ’an ǃaihn ǃ’o. Te ka ha se dshauma kota nǂahm ǃabia kxae ǂ’usi, ha tjin, “Simbegwire mi ǃo ǁ’a ǂxae!” Dshau gesin nǃom tuih ǀxoa tcisi ǁka te siǃa hui ha ko ǃaihn khaurua. Ha ǁaq nǃama ha te kare ha ǃka nǂai nǀa’anga.
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.
Simbegwire ǁ’a ha gǁaq gu ha te tani ua ha ko ha ǃaoh. Ha ǀ’an ha ko ‘msa ǁ’un, te ǁahǁah gǁxuan ha ko gǃahm ko ha taqe nǂahm. Gǀu to’a Simbegwire sin tjin nǂai tza ha ǀ’ae. Ka koh gǀa’a ǃusa ku ǁae khauru ha. Te ha hin ǃ’han tca ha gǁaq te ku ǁau ka ǃ’uin ha.
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.
ǁ’Aea Simbegwire ǁ’a ha ba ce tsia tjuǀho, ha gǀae h te da’ama tju nǃang sin ǀ’hoan. “Hatce re ǃan, Anita?” Ha tsisa’a ǀxoa ǃka khui. Dshau ǃoa sara ha ko tca da’ama te ǃaah u. “Mi kare ka ha ǂum mi,” ha koe nǁae. “Xabe mi hin koh kare ka ha sin to.” Simbegwire ǁ’a ha ba ǁama ǃaoh te tsin ǁxam ǁ’a dohma khoea. Te sin ǂaun ua ha tshin tjuǀho ǁ’a ha gǀae tsisa’a ha he ko ha re ca ho 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 koh ge te kui ǀxoa ha tsoma sin. ǁ’Aea ha hoha ba ko koa ǂxan. Ha koh koqa tca ha te taun, te kahin ha ǃaah gǃa’ama tju nǃang ǁ’a ha gǀae djxoma. Te ka ha ba gǀae ha ko, “Simbegwire, a ho ǀ’ae a ǀ’ae ko a taqe jan. He o ha nǀe’ea are he ku ǁau ǂae ǂae a. Mi ǃka kaice nǀa’ng ǀxoa a te mi are a.” Siǃa tsa’a khoe tca Simbegwire te ku sin ǃxoana ǀxoa ha gǁaq ko tca ha ku oo karea.
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.
Ha ǁa’ike ǀ’hoo ha ko ǀam wece. Xabe ǁoeh sa Anita ku ǁkae. Ha gu Simbegwire gǃau te gǂara ǁae ǀ’an. “ǁae na tcima ǃo mi koh nǃobe du,” ha koe tjin. “A ku kxoe ka mi cea du se?” Simbegwire se ha ba ǀho te ho tca ha ba ǀho te mani. Te kahin ha ǂ’auce te nǃun tsi ǃ’an te nǃama 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.
Te bekea gǀae, Anita ǀ’ho Simbegwire, ǁae ǀxoa ha tsuma sin kota ha gǁaq sin, ko ǃaoh ‘m ǁkaea. Hatce re jan ǀ’an ‘m ǁkae! Anita toto Simbegwire ǁ’a ha ǃka nǃang ‘masi, ju nǀui waqn to’a ‘m te ǁka. Te ǁama da’abi ge te kui te nǃausi ge te nǂoahn. Simbegwire kxae ǃka nǀ’ang te nǃun gǀaoha. Ha ǁ’ae te ǁ’ae to’om he nǃobe to’om te ha ce ua tjuǀho ka gǀae ǃxoana ǀxoa ha ba sa taqe gǁaq.
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.
