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Sakima kwa tungire navakurona vendi namuunyendi wamukadona wamwaka ne. Vavo kwa tungire ngoli palivango lyamungavo. Ndunda yavo va yambelita mushoni kwa karelire kughuhura wamuyaro wavitondo.
Sakima lived with his parents and his four year old sister.
They lived on a rich man’s land.
Their grass-thatched hut was at the end of a row of trees.
Opo a gwanitire Sakima mwaka ntatu,a vere makura a kombanita mantjo ghendi. Mumati uno Sakima kwa kalire waunkurungu.
When Sakima was three years old, he fell sick and lost his sight.
Sakima was a talented boy.
Sakima kwa rughanine vininke vyavingi ngudu ovyo va dilire kuvhura kurughana vamati vaunyendi vamwaka ntayimwe. Shihonena,ka shungiranga navahameni mumukunda vavakurona mposhi va tompwere vininke vina karo namulyo.
Sakima did many things that other six year old boys did not do.
For example, he could sit with older members of the village and discuss important matters.
The parents of Sakima worked at the rich man’s house.
They left home early in the morning and returned late in the evening.
Sakima was left with his little sister.
Sakima uye kwa holire kuyimba marushumo. Liyuva limwe vawina ava mupura,”Kuni wagha kushongera ghano marushumo, Sakima?”
Sakima loved to sing songs.
One day his mother asked him, “Where do you learn these songs from, Sakima?”
Sakima a limburura,”Kuya tupu ghene,yina. Kugha yuvha mumutwe wande makura kugha yimba.”
Sakima answered, “They just come, mother. I hear them in my head and then I sing.”
Sakima a holire kuyimbira kauni kendi kakadona,unene, po nange kana fu ndjara. Kauni kendi kumu tegherera omo ana kuyimba rushumo rwendi oro a hora po ngudu. Okuno kako kuna kukunyunganga kutu ngovera twa kutendeka mutjima.
Sakima liked to sing for his little sister, especially, if she felt hungry.
His sister would listen to him singing his favourite song.
She would sway to the soothing tune.
“Kuvhura uru yimbe nka,uru yimbe nka,Sakima,” mughunyendi wamukadona ana kumu kushengo. Sakima uye kuvi pura makura kuru yimba aru vyukuruke,aru vyukuruke nka.
“Can you sing it again and again, Sakima,” his sister would beg him.
Sakima would accept and sing it over and over again.
Ngurova yimwe vakurona vendi opo vakavyukire kumundi,vavo vana mwena. Sakima avi nongonwine ashi mpovili vina piro kuwapa.
One evening when his parents returned home, they were very quiet.
Sakima knew that there was something wrong.
“Udito munke una karo po,yina,vava?” a pura Sakima. Sakima avi nongonona nka ashi mona ngavo wamumati ana kombana. Mukafumu unya kwa kalire ana guvu nka uye mukuma una mukwata.
“What is wrong, mother, father?” Sakima asked.
Sakima learned that the rich man’s son was missing.
The man was very sad and lonely.
“Kuni muyimbira po. Kuvhura a hafe nka,” Sakima a tantere vakurona vendi. Ene ngoli vakurona vendi kapi vamu pulitilire. ” Uye mukafumu wamungavo ngudu. Ove mumati tupu wakupira mantjo. Una kughayara ashi rushumo roye kuru muvatera?”
“I can sing for him. He might be happy again,” Sakima told his parents.
But his parents dismissed him.
“He is very rich. You are only a blind boy. Do you think your song will help him?”
Nampiri ndi ngoweyo,Sakima kapi a kutapire. Mughunyendi wamudidi wamukadona a mukwatita ko. A ghamba,”Marushumo ghaSakima kuntendeka monyo wande nange ame ndjara nakuyuvha. Kugha vhura kushengawida mukafumu wangavo.”
However, Sakima did not give up.
His little sister supported him.
She said, “Sakima’s songs soothe me when I am hungry. They will soothe the rich man too.”
The following day, Sakima asked his little sister to lead him to the rich man’s house.
A yimana kuntji yalikende limwe lyalinene makura a vareke kuyimba rushumo rwendi oro a hora po ngudu. Kadidi,mutwe wayinya ngavo aghu vareke kumoneka mulikende linya lyalinene.
He stood below one big window and began to sing his favourite song.
Slowly, the head of the rich man began to show through the big window.
Varughani ava shagheke kurughana ovyo varughanine pashirugho shinya. Ava tegherere kurushumo rwaSakima rwaruwa ngudu. Ene ngoli mukafumu umwe a ghamba, “Kwato ogho a vhuro kushengawida muhona wetu mumayuvapita. Ana kughayara oghu mumati washitwiku ashi uye ndje a vhuro kumushengawida?”
The workers stopped what they were doing. They listened to Sakima’s beautiful song.
But one man said, “Nobody has been able to console the boss. Does this blind boy think he will console him?”
Sakima a mana kuyimba rushumo rwendi makura a piruka va vyuke. Mukafumu wangavo a kwangura a rupuke makura a ghamba, “Nakukanderere yimba nka.”
Sakima finished singing his song and turned to leave.
But the rich man rushed out and said, “Please sing again.”
Pashirugho ntjoshinya, vakafumu vaviri ava ya okuno vavo vana shimbi murwana pashishimbiro. Vavo kwa wanine mona ngavo wamumati uye vana mutoghona ano vana mushuvu kuntere yashitaghura.
At that very moment, two men came carrying someone on a stretcher.
They had found the rich man’s son beaten up and left on the side of the road.
Ngavo kwa hafire shiri ngudu muku mona nka monendi wamumati. Ntungi ayi futu Sakima mukonda yavyo amu shengawidire. Makura ntungi a damuna monendi wamumati kumwe naSakima ava twara kushipangero mposhi Sakima aka vhure kakenga yira momo ka kenganga kare.
The rich man was so happy to see his son again.
He rewarded Sakima for consoling him.
He took his son and Sakima to hospital so Sakima could regain his sight.
