Oshikunino shakuku osha li oshikumithi, omwa li omahangu, iilyawala nomidhika. Ihe shoka sha li mo oshihokithi kwaayihe osho omambanana. Nonando kuku okwa li e na aatekulu oyendji, ngame onda li ndi shi shi kutya ongame nda li ndi holike unene kuye. Okwa hiya ndje olwindji ndi ye kegumbo lye. Okwa li wo ha lombwele ndje iiholekwanima. Opwa li owala oshiholekwa shimwe inee shi lombwela ndje sho osho: pehala mpoka ha pithile omambanana.
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.
Esiku limwe onda mono oshimbamba oshinene sha tungwa nomanenge sha anekwa pomutenya pondje yegumbo lyakuku. Sho nde mu pula kutya osha shike okwa yamukula ta ti: “Shoka osho oshimbamba shandje shuumpulile.” Pooha dhoshimbamba opwa li omafo gomambanana ngoka kuku a li ta pilula ethimbo nethimbo. Onda li nda kwatwa kokatalekonawa. “Omafo ogashike ngono kuku?” Osho nda pula. Neyamukulo ndyoka nda pewa: “Ogo omafo gandje guumpulile.”
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.”
Osha li oshihokithi okutala kuku, omambanana, omafo gomambanana noshimbamba oshinene sha ningwa momanenge. Ashike kuku okwa tumu ndje ndi ye kumeme ndi ka ninge sha. “Kuku kwatha ndje alikana ndi tale nkene to longekidha…” “Ino kala omunamanganga ngaaka kanona ngoye, ninga shoka to lombwelwa,” kuku osho a popi nomuthindo. Onda tondoka nonda yi.
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.
Sho nda galuka onda adha kuku a kuutumba pondje, kapwa li oshimbamba nomambanana kaga li po. “Kuku oshimbamba osha yi peni, omambanana oge li peni no…” Ashike eyamukulo olya li owala: “Oge li mehala lyandje lyuumpulile.” Osha li tashi shololitha!
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!
Konima yomasiku gaali, kuku okwa tumu ndje ndi ka tale olwoondje lwe mondunda ye yokulala. Sho nda egulula omweelo, onda kundwa kezimba ewanawa lyomambanana ga pya. Meni lyondunda omwa li oshimbamba shakuku shuumpulile shoka sha ningwa momanenge. Osha li sha siikilwa nawa nekumbatha ekulu. Onda suukulula ko e tandi fenya ezimba ndyoka lya nika nawa.
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.
Onda haluka sho ndu uvu ewi lyakuku ta igidha ndje, “Ano oto ningi shike? Endelela mbala wu ete olwoondje lwandje.” Onda zi mo neendelelo nolwoondje lwe. “Oto imemeha shike ano?” kuku osho a pula. Epulo lye olya dhimbulutha ndje kutya ngiika onda li tandi imemeha sho nda mono oshiholekwa shuumpulile we.
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.
Esiku lya landula kuku sho e ya a talele po meme, onda matukile kegumbo lye ndi ka tale natango omambanana. Omwa li ehila lyomambanana ga pya nawa. Onda tona ko limwe e tandi li holeke mohema yandje. Sho nda siikile ko nawa koshimbamba, onda yi konima yegumbo e tandi li li po meendelelo. Olya li etoye, inandi lya nando onale embanana etoye lye li fa.
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.
Esiku lya landula manga kuku a li moshikunino ta fulu mo iikwamboga, ondi iyakele mondunda ye e tandi tala omambanana. Onda kwatwa kemakelo nonda kutha okapandi komambanana ge li gane. Manga tuu tandi nyoweke ndu uka komweelo, ondu uvu kuku ta kolola pondje. Onde shi pondola okuholeka omambanana mohema yandje e tandi piti po puye nda fa ndaa na sha.
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.
Esiku lya landula olya li esiku lyomalandithilo. Kuku okwa meneka ongula onene. Oha faalele aluhe omambanana nomudhika a ka landithe komalandithilo. Esiku ndyoka inandi ya nande mbala kuye ndi ke mu popithe. Ashike kanda li tandi vulu oku mu idhimbika ethimbo ele.
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.
Kongulohi ondi ithanwa kumeme natate nakuku. Onda li nda tseya nale kutya shoka tashi ithanitha ndje oshike. Uusiku mboka sho nda ka lala, onda li ndi shi shi kutya itandi yaka we tuu nande, itandi yaka iinima yakuku, itandi yaka iinima yaakuluntu yandje itandi yaka wo nando iinima yomuntu gulwe i ili.
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.
