Thikwinino thaMama tha karire thothitetu, mwayarire tumbi, mahangu, nomwandja. Ene yoyiwa kupiterera ne mapanana. Ngambi kenge eshi Mama gha karire no hekuru hohengi, ame na yi dimukire mughudhindo eshi yame wendi ghopa mutjima. Kehe pano nga ni thanga kundhugho dhendi. Aye gho gha ni thonyeneko ghudhindo. Ene poghudi ghudhindo oghu ghondekire oghu gha pirire kuni thonyena : oku nga turanga mapanana ghokupya.
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.
Diyuwa dimweya namomine thikote thokathipo thothikuru hana thi tura pa mutenya panunda dhondhugho dhamama ghomukamadi. Apa ne pure eshi yonye keho yo, gha hutha eshi, ” ethi ne thikote thange thomafweno.” Kumbadi dhothikote kwa karire mahako ghopanana agha gha piraghurire. Ame nakarire nodirura dyo kudimuka. “Mama gho ngepi gha mahako?” nepurire. Gha huthire eshi, ” ogho ne mahako ghange ghomafweno.”
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.”
Yani towarire yo kurorera Mama ghomukamadi, mapanana, mahako ghomapanana nothikote thokathipo thishokuru. Ene mama ghani tumine kwa nawe. ” Mama nakukanderera ni thiye ni kurorere edi ghuna kurongathana…” ” Wakara dhino, mwanuke, rughane dyodi na kutongwera, ” gha thinenekire”. Ghona yendire ghutjira.
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.
Apa na kahukire , nana mu wanine Mama ne ghana hungumana panunda. Ene mbadi nothikote no mapanana temba. ” Mama, kupi thikote, kupi mapanana ghomaheya, no kupi…” Ene aye gha huthire eshi, ” Yoyiheya kudyango dyange dyomafweno yi di.” Ya mu kashithire!
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!
Munyima dhomayuwa mawadi Mama ghani tumine ni ka mu shimbere kamburo kendi mundhugho dhendi dhokurara. Apa vene na yandhure kuyuvako ne munuko ghomapanana ghokupya. Mungonda dhimwe mwa karire thikote thaMama thokathipo thothikuru thomafweno. Gha thundeka mungugho ghokukurupara. Ghona mu yeyure ngugho no kufumbwera munuko ghu ghoghuwa.
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.
Diywi dyaMama dyani yapithire apa gha ni thire, ” yinye ghuna kutenda? Tambuke ghuni retere mburo.” Na tambukire wangu ni shwaye no kamburo kendi. ” Yinye ghuna kumenyamenyena?” Ghepurire Mama. Dipwero dyendi dyani nongonithire eshi shime na menyamenyine koyi naka nongononine dyango dyendi dyomafweno.
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.
Diyuwa dyo kurandako apa gheyire Mama no gha dhingure nawe. Ame na tjirire mundhugho dhendi ni ka gha kenge karo mapanana. Na ka wanine dindjomboro dyagho ghopyu. Ghona tumburemo dyofotji ghona di horekire mumuthithi wange. Apa na manine kufika thikote ghona yendire kumukunduruko ghondhugho no ka di tambukitha kudidya. Gha karire panana ghomutowi thikuma oyu na pira kuyereka rumweya.
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.
Diyuwa dyo kuranda ko , apa gha temine mama rwidhi muthikwinino , ame na nyomine no kunokera mapanana. Thingi thagho gha karire mafufuta. Mbadi na konine kudhidhimeka ghona shimbire dindjomboro dyomapanana manne. Na yendire ghunyoma no ghu nyakeka apa na kumine pepi nothero, na yuvire mama ghana kukohora panunda. Na konine kuhoreka mapanana mumuthithi wange no kamupita.
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.
Diyuwa dyo kurandako dya karire diyuwa dyomughuro. Mama gha pindukire murughura. Gha tumburire mapanana ghendi gho pyu nomwandja gha kaghurithe kudyango dyo kughurithera. Mbadi na tambukere ka mu dhingura. Ene mbadi na dhidhimikire rure.
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.
Munyima roro runguro ha ni thire hanawe, tate naMama. Na yi dimukire eyi ha ni there. Ogho ghuthiku apa na ka rarire na yi dimukire eshi mbadi mbo nidha karo, yi kare eshi kwamama, kwawa kuru wange endi ko hanu maghana.
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
Maria M Dikuua
Thimbukushu
Level 4
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