Grandma’s garden was wonderful, full of sorghum, millet, and cassava.
But best of all were the bananas.
Although Grandma had many grandchildren, I secretly knew that I was her favourite. She invited me often to her house. She also told me little secrets.
But there was one secret she did not share with me: where she ripened bananas.
O’dú àlʉ, ánè ógóyɨ ́á àmbónɨ ètúá
Dèdé vɨ ́lé jó àgeyíá. Mánɨ ́ èrɨ zízʉ́
‘bá ógóyɨ ́á ‘dà sɨ ̀ à’dɨ ‘ye yàrɨ ̀á, omvi
lʉ́ kɨ ̀nɨ ̀, “èrɨ ógóyíá má vɨ ́lé tálɨ ́ rʉ rɨ ̀
‘ɨ”
Ógóyɨ ́á ‘dà mà àgeyíá, ò‘bà à’bʉ́à bí
kàràkàrà rʉ́, èrɨnɨ ́ kàlà ojá sâ were
were vútiá nɨ ̀ yɨ.
E’yó ‘dɨ ̀ ca má ásíá kʉ. Àzi èrɨ díká,
“à’bʉ́à bí ‘dɨ ̀yɨ à’dɨ àfa ‘yezʉ́ yǎ?”
Omvi ma kɨ ́nɨ ̀, “yɨ à’bʉ́à bí mânɨ ́
tálɨ ́rʉ̌ ‘dɨ ̀yɨ.”
One day I saw a big straw basket placed in the sun outside Grandma’s house. When I asked what it was for, the only answer I got was, “It’s my magic basket.”
Next to the basket, there were several banana leaves that Grandma turned from time to time. I was curious. “What are the leaves for, Grandma?” I asked. The only answer I got was, “They are my magic leaves.”
Má nɨ ́ Dèdé nɨ nèzʉ́ à’bʉ́à àzɨ ́nɨ
à’bʉ́à bí ‘dàyɨ ò’bàrɨá ógóyíá tálɨ ́rʉ̌
‘dà mà alɨ ́á ria. Te Dèdé asi mâ ti pě
mâ ándrî vʉ́.
“Dèdé, kɨ ́rɨ ́kɨ ̀rɨ ̀ ‘ɨ ́fè mâ nè má nɨ ́ àfa
mɨ ́nɨ ́ edé ‘dɨ ̀yɨ…”
“Álè nɨ ́ drì ònzɨ ́ kʉ, mvá ‘dɨ ̀. Mɨ ́ mà
‘ye e’yó ‘bánɨ ́ ‘yǒ mɨ ́nɨ ́ rɨ ̀,” ‘yo má nɨ ́.
Ánga nzʉ́ ongú sɨ ̀.
It was so interesting watching Grandma, the bananas, the banana leaves and the big straw basket. But Grandma sent me off to my mother on an errand.
“Grandma, please, let me watch as you prepare…”
“Don’t be stubborn, child, do as you are told,” she insisted. I took off running.
Má nɨ ́ drì èdàzʉ́ ‘bo rɨ ̀ sɨ ̌, má esʉ́
Dèdé rɨ àmvé, te ógóyɨ ́á pɨ à’bʉ́à bí
be yo.
“Dèdé, ógóyɨ ́á tá rɨ ̀ ngólé, à’bʉ́à bí
yɨ ngólé, àfa…”
Omvitá mánɨ ́ esʉ́ rɨ ̀ kɨ ́nɨ ̀, “yɨ pàrí
mânɨ ́ tálɨ ́ rʉ̌ rɨ ̀ mà alɨ ́á.”
Omvitá ‘dà fà mánɨ ́ àyɨ ̀kò kʉ!
When I returned, Grandma was sitting outside but with neither the basket nor the bananas.
“Grandma, where is the basket, where are all the bananas, and where…”
But the only answer I got was, “They are in my magic place.” It was so disappointing!
O’dú ìrì mà vʉ́tiá, Dèdé pè mâ ti jóá
‘ɨ ́ vɨ ́lé lòtè acɨ ́zʉ́ rɨ ̀ ejí.
Ákà mú jótilé zǐ ‘bo, à’bʉ́à nizà mà
àjí ngǔpɨ rɨ ̀ a’ɨ ́ ma òkò. Jó alé
alɨ ́álêrʉ́rɨ ̀á, ándrè Dèdé vɨ ́lé ógóyɨ ́á
àmbó tálɨ ́rʉ́ rɨ ̀. ‘Bá akú drìnɨ
bàlàngítì oku nɨ sɨ ̀.
Ázì ti nɨ òlɨ ́ ndrɨ ̀zà èfʉ̌pɨ alénɨá rɨ ̀
ngùzʉ́.
Two days later, Grandma sent me to fetch her walking stick from her bedroom.
As soon as I opened the door, I was welcomed by the strong smell of ripening bananas. In the inner room was grandma’s big magic straw basket. It was well hidden by an old blanket. I lifted it and sniffed that glorious smell.
Mâ ruá yà Dèdé mà ó’dúkó ma
omvezʉ́ rɨ ̀ sɨ ̀ cɨ ̀rɨ ̀, “Mɨ ‘dí lé à’dʉ́ àfa
‘ye yǎ? Mɨ ́ ejí́ mánɨ ́ lòtè mbèlè.”
Má ari ma èfʉ̀zʉ́ èrɨ vɨ ́lé lòtè be
mbèlè. “Mɨ ̀ cɨ cɨ ̀nyà ‘dɨ ̀á a’dʉ sɨ ̀ yâ?”
Dèdé zi ma.
Èrɨ mà zitá ‘dà fè ávà kɨ ̀nɨ ̀ ma ngà
kírí gǔ mánɨ ́ èrɨ vɨ ́lé ógóyɨ ́á tálɨ ́ be rɨ ̀
esúzʉ́ rɨ ̀ sɨ ̀ gu rɨ ̀ rá.
Grandma’s voice startled me when she called, “What are you doing? Hurry up and bring me the stick.”
I hurried out with her walking stick. “What are you smiling about?” Grandma asked.
Her question made me realise that I was still smiling at the discovery of her magic place.
Drùsɨ ̀ ‘dɨ ́nɨ, Dèdé emú mâ ándríi nɨ
ně. Ánzʉ èrɨ vɨ ́léle jóá ‘dálé mbèlè
à’bʉ́à ‘dàyɨ nèzʉ́ dɨ ́ká.
à’bʉ́á mà áyɨ nípɨ tékètékè nɨ dè àlʉ
cɨ ́. Má ètɨ ̀ àlʉ ázì má vɨ ́lé bòngó alɨ ́á.
Má nɨ ́ ógóyɨ ́á mà ti òpìzʉ́ ‘bo rɨ ̀ sɨ ̌,
ámu jó ngʉ́kʉ́á rá ánya mbèlè.
à’bʉ́à ‘dà alu ndè ngà òku mánɨ ́ nyǎ
drɨ ̀ò ‘dɨ ̀yɨ drɨ ́á rá.
The following day when grandma came to visit my mother, I rushed to her house to check the bananas once more.
There was a bunch of very ripe ones. I picked one and hid it in my dress. After covering the basket again, I went behind the house and quickly ate it. It was the sweetest banana I had ever tasted.
O’dú ‘dà mà vútiá rɨ ̀ sɨ ̀, Dèdé nɨ ́
ovʉrɨá ámvúá tíbí ini òtɨ ̀rɨá, ánze ma
è’yere jóá mu à’bʉ́à ‘dɨ ̀ àlʉ. Yɨ mà
pàrɨ ́ ni dè dɨ ́ rá. ásíkòló sì, má e’dú
áyɨ à’bʉ́á be su nɨ.
Má nɨ ́ ma òmbàrɨá àmvé, má erɨ
Dèdé mà òkélè gazà àmvé ‘dálé. ázì
à’bʉ́à bòngó alɨ ́á mbèlè rá má aga
èrɨ mà àgeyíá sɨ ̀ trʉa trʉa.
The following day, when grandma was in the garden picking vegetables, I sneaked in and peered at the bananas.
Nearly all were ripe. I couldn’t help taking a bunch of four.
As I tiptoed towards the door, I heard grandma coughing outside. I just managed to hide the bananas under my dress and walked past her.
The following day was market day. Grandma woke up early. She always took ripe bananas and cassava to sell at the market.
I did not hurry to visit her that day. But I could not avoid her for long.
Òndré ‘dà sɨ ̀, mâ átî pɨ omve kɨ ́ ma
mâ ándrî pie Dèdè pie. Ánɨ ̀ ‘bá
omve ma à’dʉ́ e’yó sɨ ̀ yà rɨ ̀ rá.
Íní ‘dà sɨ ̀, má nɨ ́ ma larɨá ó’dú ko’rɨá,
ánì má ásíá rá kɨ ́nɨ ̀ ánga nɨ ́ ògù ògǔ
díká kʉ, kà tró ovʉ àfa Dèdé nɨ ́
kànɨ ̀kʉ mâ típika yɨ nɨ ́, átà ‘bá cɨ ́ rɨ ̀
nɨ ́.
Later that evening I was called by my mother and father, and Grandma. I knew why.
That night as I lay down to sleep, I knew I could never steal again, not from grandma, not from my parents, and certainly not from anyone else.
Ursula Nafula
Catherine Groenewald
Dorothy Fetaru
Lugbarati (official orthography)
Level 4
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