Ouno ne Khalai. Mwaka dendi ntambiri. Lidina lyendi kutantashi ’ wa muwa’ muliraka lyendi, Lubukusu.
This is Khalai. She is seven years old. Her name means ‘the good one’ in her language, Lubukusu.
Pakurambuka Khalai kughambaura navitondo vyamaguni. “Na kanderere shitondo shauguni, kura unene ngau tu pe maguni ghakupya ghamayingi.”
Khalai wakes up and talks to the orange tree. “Please orange tree, grow big and give us lots of ripe oranges.”
Khalai kuyenda kushure. Mundjira yendi kughambaura namushoni. ” Na kandere mushoni, kura ngoli mushinamahako washa kukuta.”
Khalai walks to school. On the way she talks to the grass. “Please grass, grow greener and don’t dry up.”
Khalai pakupita dimucuko damuwiya. ” Na kanderere mucuko, yungumuka nakumpayima vene ngoweyo mposhi ngani kuture kuhuki dande.’
Khalai passes wild flowers. “Please flowers, keep blooming so I can put you in my hair.”
Kushure, Khalai kughambaura nashitondo shapakatji kalivango. “Na kanderere shitondo, kulita divutavi dadinene mposhi tu varwirange mumundulye ghoye.”
At school, Khalai talks to the tree in the middle of the compound. “Please tree, put out big branches so we can read under your shade.”
Khalai kughamana na navishwa vyakundurukido shure yendi. “Na kanderere vishwa kurenu nankondo mposhi papire yakupira vantu vavadona.”
Khalai talks to the hedge around her school. “Please grow strong and stop bad people from coming in.”
Khalai pakavyuka kumundi, kudingura shitondo shauguni. ” Maguni ghoye ana pi ndi?” Ana kupura Khalai.
When Khalai returns home from school, she visits the orange tree. “Are your oranges ripe yet?” asks Khalai.
“Maguni shimpe ghashinamahako,” Ana kuyiyira Khalai. ” Nganiya kukenga nka yona shitondo shauguni,” ana kughamba Khalai. “Walye ngau karako naliguni lyande lyakupya.
“The oranges are still green,” sighs Khalai. “I will see you tomorrow orange tree,” says Khalai. “Perhaps then you will have a ripe orange for me!”
