The audio for this story is currently not available.
Kokuyemelanga li mbasi mwa hae yaka ne kupatehile ni batu ni limbasi zenelitezi. Fafasi nekutezi ni lika zene lisalonwa. Bahuwi neba huwa mabizo ya libaka konokuya ma mbasi.
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.
Kwa bukuwa! Kwa bukuwa! Kuliba kwa malikelelo! nautwa bauwi bapunda. Kona mbasi yene nitokwa to kwela.
“City! City! Going west!” I heard a tout shouting. That was the bus I needed to catch.
Mbasi ya kwa bukuwa ni asehitala, kono batu baban’ata nebasa kasha kukwela mwa mbasi. Baban’wi neba beile mikotani yabona mwatasi ya mbasi. Babamu nebabehile mwahali ya mbasi.
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.
Ba zamai babanca nebaswalelezi ma tickets yabona anze babata fa kuina mwa mbasi yeneitezi. Basali ni limbututu zabona baina ka kuiketa mwa musipili womutelele.
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.
Seni ititinyaza kwa tuko ni window. Mutu yana inzi kwatuko nina naswalelezi papa ya mubala wa butala. Natinile ma patata ya kale, natinile ni koti mi nabonahala ku saba.
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.
Seni talimela fande ya mbasi mi seni hupula kuli neni siya munzi waka, sibaka kuno nihulezi. Neniya kwa bukuwa.
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.
Kulonga nekufelile mi nibatu kaufela sebaina. Balekisi nebaifumanezi nzila ya mwa mbasi kulekisa lika ku mutu ni mutu. Mutu ni mutu na huwa lika zamabata zeneliteni zakuleka. Manzwi neya utwahala inge lisheha kuna.
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.
Babamu nebalekile za kunwa, babamu tuco totuinyani ni kukala kutafuna. Benebasina masheleni, inge na, nebabuha feela.
A few passengers bought drinks, others bought small snacks and began to chew. Those who did not have any money, like me, just watched.
Zakuhezahala nezipumezwi ka milumo zali mbasi, sisupo ka kufunduka. Ba huwi babulelela ba lekisi ba mbasi ku zwela fande.
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.
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.
Mbasi aseifunduka, senitalimela fande ya window. Seninahana iba nitakuta kwa hae hape.
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.
Musipili anze ukalile, nekukalile kucisa mwa mbasi. Senitima meto kunahana mwendi nitalobala.
As the journey progressed, the inside of the bus got very hot. I closed my eyes hoping to sleep.
Kono ngana yaka neinzi kwa ndu. Kuli boma bakasiyala hande? Tu shakame twaka tukatisa mashelenyi? Mu nyenaka wa mushimani ukahupula kuselaela tu kota twaka?
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?
Mwanzila, nenipeta libizo la sibaka kono baina bo malume kwa bukukuwa. Nenisapeta ni mwabuloko.
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.
Anze kufitile nako yetelele, nenizusizwe ki lilata ni bene babiza ba zamai bene bakuta kwa hae. Seni shimba ka kotani kaka ni kutuluka mwa mbasi.
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.
Mbasi yeneikuta neitala kamaubebe. Onafa itwa yaliba kwa lipazulelo. Sesibutokwa ahulo kuna, neli kukala kubabalela ndu ya bo malume.
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.
Lesley Koyi, Ursula Nafula
Brian Wambi
Christabel Songiso
SiLozi (Zambia)
Level 3
The audio for this story is currently not available.
