Ozosewa wina ze hepa orusuvero Orphans need love too
Kandume Ruusa, Sennobia-Charon Katjiuongua, Eliaser Nghitewa
Jamanovandu Urike
Angelika Tjouṱuku, Asnath Mundjindjiri
Otjiherero
Level 5
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Eyuva arihe Hilifa aa penduka rukuru okuṱunina ina eriro romuhuka. Ina nambano wa rira omuverandu nu okutja Hilifa otje rihonga okutjevera ina na ye omuini. Ouvere wa ina tji wa rira oukoto nga tje he tji sekama, eye otjaa yakisa omuriro, a sumisa omeva ne mu hangere otee. Eye aa kayandja otee noruhere ku ina otjeriro romuhuka. Omayuva tjiva ina kaa kara nomasa wokurya. Hilifa ee rikende na ina. Ingwi ihe wa ṱa ozombura mbari nḓa kapita, nambano ina wina wa vera. Eye wa ramburuka tjinene, tjimuna ingwi ihe tja rambukire.
Every morning Hilifa woke up early to prepare breakfast for his mother. She had been sick a lot recently and Hilifa was learning how to look after his mother and himself. When his mother was too ill to get up he would make a fire to boil water to make tea. He would take tea to his mother and prepare porridge for breakfast. Sometimes his mother was too weak to eat it. Hilifa worried about his mother. His father had died two years ago, and now his mother was ill too. She was very thin, just like his father had been.
Omuhuka umwe eye wa pura ina, “Hapo mama u na pu tjike? Mo veruka ruṋe? Ove ko tji tereke rukwao. Ove ko tji ungura motjikunino nokukohorora ondjuwo. Ove ko tji ndji ṱunine ovikurya vyokapause nokundjikohera ozombanda zosikore.” “Hilifa muzandu wandje, ove u na ozombura muvyu uriri nu u ndji hunga.” Eye wa tara mu ingwi omuzandona, a temwa kutja nge mu raere ye. Mape ya eye a zuu? “Ami mba vera tjinene. Ove mo ratiyo wa rora okuzuva ohunga nomutjise wehinga. Ami mbi nomutjise mbwo,” eye we mu raere. Hilifa we tji mwina kumwi oure wokaruveze okasupi. “Okutja ove mo ṱu tjimuna Tate?” “Kape nomuti omupange wehinga.”
One morning he asked his mother, “What is wrong Mum? When will you be better? You don’t cook anymore. You can’t work in the field or clean the house. You don’t prepare my lunchbox, or wash my uniform…” “Hilifa my son, you are only nine years old and you take good care of me.” She looked at the young boy, wondering what she should tell him. Would he understand? “I am very ill. You have heard on the radio about the disease called AIDS. I have that disease,” she told him. Hilifa was quiet for a few minutes. “Does that mean you will die like Daddy?” “There is no cure for AIDS.”
Hilifa wa kaenda ame ripura tja ya kosikore. Kaa sora okuhingira nokunyanda ku na ovakwao mondjira. “Wa hapavi?” ovo va pura. Nungwari ingwi Hilifa kaa nyamukura, omambo waina aaye tono ongo momatwi we. “Kape nomuti omupange. Kape nomuti omupange.” Hapo ma yenene okuritumba vi ingwi ina tja zu po. Eye ma kakara pi? Ovimariva vyokuritumba na vyo ma isa pi?
Hilifa walked to school thoughtfully. He couldn’t join in the chatter and games of his friends as they walked along. “What’s wrong?” they asked him. But Hilifa couldn’t answer, his mother’s words were ringing in his ears, “No cure. No cure.” How could he look after himself if his mother died, he worried. Where would he live? Where would he get money for food?
Hilifa wa kahaama mokambaanga ke. Eye ma tjanga mozondjira zotjipirangi otjikuru nomunwe we, “Kape nomuti omupange. Kape nomuti omupange.” Hilifa? Hilifa, u ri pu na eṱe?” Hilifa wa yerurura otjiuru. Omuyozikwa Nelao wa kurama pu ye. “Hilifa sekama. Ami mba pura kutja vi?” Hilifa wa tara pehi pozombaze ze. “Eziriro kamoo rimunu pehi mbo!” eye wa ziri neraka ekukutu. Magano, raera Hilifa eziriro.” Hilifa wa ṱire ohoṋi tjinene. Aruhe Omuyozikwa Nelao ke na indu pa rorere okumutjenena.
Hilifa sat at his desk. He traced the worn wood markings with his finger, “No cure. No cure.” “Hilifa? Hilifa, are you with us?” Hilifa looked up. Ms. Nelao was standing over him. “Stand up Hilifa! What was my question?” Hilifa looked down at his feet. “You won’t find the answer down there!” she retorted. “Magano, tell Hilifa the answer.” Hilifa felt so ashamed, Ms. Nelao had never shouted at him before.
Hilifa wa kondja nao omuhuka auhe. Mokapause eye wa haama metuwo romahongero. “Ami me hihamwa pehuri,” eye wa wovisa omapanga we. Otjo katja ri otjizeze otjinene, eye ee rimunu okuvera tjinga imbwi ouripura wongendo tjaa u pose motjiuru tje otjozonyutji nḓa handja. Omuyozikwa Nelao ee mu tarere kumwi. Kombunda we mu pura kutja wa hapa vi. “Katjiṋa,” eye wa ziri. Nungwari inga omamtwi ya zuu ingwi okuurwa nongendo ndja ri meraka re. Omeho ya munu indji omburuma eye ndjaa kondjo okuhoreka.
Hilifa struggled through the morning. At break time he sat in the classroom. “I have a stomach ache,” he lied to his friends. It wasn’t a big lie, he did feel sick, and his worried thoughts buzzed inside his head like angry bees. Ms. Nelao watched him quietly. She asked him what was wrong. “Nothing,” he replied. Her ears heard the tiredness and worry in his voice. Her eyes saw the fear he was trying so hard to hide.
Hilifa tjaa kondjo okuungura ovivarero, imbi ovivaro aavi tukatuka motjiuru tje. Eye kaa yenene okuvihirimanisa kutja ma yenene okuvirekena. Eye wa ṱokuzako. Nu wa uta okuripura na ina moruveze rwanao. Ominwe vye vya uta okuperenda imbwi ouripura we. Wa perenda ina ngu ri mombete. We riperenda tja kurama peyendo raina. “Vawonge vomambo wovivarero, wongee omambo arikana,” Omuyozikwa Nelao wa ravaere. Tjimanga Hilifa wa muna imbi mbya perende membo re na hara okutaura inḓa ozombapira, nungwari tjandje pa kapitwa. Omuwonge wa twara embo re kOmuyozikwa Nelao.
When Hilifa tried to do his maths the numbers jumped around in his head. He couldn’t keep them still long enough to count them. He soon gave up. He thought of his mother instead. His fingers began to draw his thoughts. He drew his mother in her bed. He drew himself standing beside his mother’s grave. “Maths monitors, collect all the books please,” called Ms. Nelao. Hilifa suddenly saw the drawings in his book and tried to tear out the page, but it was too late. The monitor took his book to Ms. Nelao.
Nelao wa tara imbi HIlifa mbya perende. Ovanatje avehe tji va sekama okuyaruka kozonganda eye wa isana, “Indjo Hilifa. Ami me vanga okuhungira na ove.” “Ove wa hapa vi?” eye wa pura noupore. “Mama wa vera. Eye we ndji raere kutja unehinga. Okutja eye ma koka?” “Ami hi nakutjiwa Hilifa, nungwari eye wa vera tjinene tje nehinga. Kape nomuti omupange.” Omambo ngo rukwao. Kape nomuti omupange. Kape nomuti omupange.” Hilifa wa utu okurira. “Twende konganda, Hilifa,” eye wa tja. “Ami me ya okutara mamaa woye.”
Ms. Nelao looked at Hilifa’s drawings. When the children were leaving to go home she called, “Come here Hilifa. I want to talk to you.” “What’s wrong?” she asked him gently. “My mother is ill. She told me she has AIDS. Will she die?” “I don’t know, Hilifa, but she is very ill if she has AIDS. There is no cure.” Those words again, “No cure. No cure.” Hilifa began to cry. “Go home, Hilifa,” she said. “I will come and visit your mother.”
Hilifa wa yaruka konganda na kavaza ina ama tereke eriro rometaha. Ami mbe ku terekere Hilifa, nungwari nambano mba urwa. Katare inga okakunino kovihape nu twara ovitamate kostora. Ovo mave keturandisira.” Kombunda yeriro rometaha, Hilifa wa ya kokahi kovihape. Eye wa tara imbi ovivara vyovihape mbi mavi yere nawa, ovitamate oviserandu oviyere, ozondungu, omakunde omare omangirine nombowa ongirine onḓumbe, oviyao ovingirine vyovimbatata nozomiriva ozongara ozonde. Eye wa tjatja ihi otjikunino na toora ekutu nde ura ovitamate oviserandu mbya hora ne vi twara kostora. “Otjikunino tjavo matji sana pi indu ina tja zu po?” eye wa himwa.
Hilifa went home and found his mother preparing lunch. “I’ve cooked for you today, Hilifa, but now I am very tired. Look after the vegetable garden and take some tomatoes to the shop. They will sell them for us.” After lunch Hilifa went to the vegetable plot. He looked at the bright colours of the vegetables, bright red tomatoes and chillies, long green beans and dark green spinach, the green leaves of the sweet potato and tall golden maize. He watered the garden and picked a bag full of ripe red tomatoes to take to the shop. “What would happen to their garden if his mother died?” he wondered.
Omuyozikwa Nelao wa vaza kombunda ya Hilifa tja za po. Eye wa kara mbo orure ama hungire ku na ina. Eye wa pura ina ya Hilifa, “Meme Ndapanda, ove u nwa omiti vye hinga?” “Omurumendu wandje tja za nokuṱa ee ṱohoṋi okuyenda konganga,” eye wa raere Omuyozikwa Nelao. “Ami e ndaasi hi mba ri amba hwangwa. Tji mba uta okuvera, otji mba ya konganga noyo ye ndji raera kutja pa kapitwa. Omiti kamaavi ndji vatere.” Omuyozikwa Nelao wa raera ina ya Hilifa kutja nga yenene okumuvatera vi.
Ms. Nelao arrived soon after Hilifa left. She spent a long time talking to his mother. She asked Hilifa’s mother, “Meme Ndapanda, are you taking the medicine for AIDS?” “After my husband died I was too ashamed to go to the doctor,” she told Ms. Nelao. “I kept hoping I wasn’t infected. When I became ill and went to the doctor she told me it was too late. The medicine would not help me.” Ms. Nelao told Meme Ndapanda what to do to help Hilifa.
Hilifa tja kotoka ponganda ina we mu ningira, “Hilifa, muzandu wandje, ami me vanga okukaryanga kaṱiṱi pamwe na ove. Mo ndji vatere?” Hilifa wa kambura ina pokuwoko neye a yama ku ye. Ovo va honahona nga imba pu pa hapa omiti vyomakwiya. Ina wa pura, “Hapo mo zemburuka indu tjaamu nyandere otjimbere mba nomuramwee Kunuu? Ove wa veta otjimbere nu otjo atjii kakakatera momakwiya. Iho wa paraurirwe indu tjaa kondjo okutjiherura.”
When Hilifa came home his mother asked him, “Hilifa, my son, I want to take a walk with you. Will you help me?” Hilifa took his mother’s arm and she leaned on him. They walked to where the tall thorn trees grew. She asked him, “Do you remember playing football here with your cousin Kunuu? You kicked the ball into the tree and it got stuck on the thorns. Your father got scratched getting it down for you.”
“Tara, pe na omuti womandjembere. Kanikore tjiva u twaerere konganda.” Hilifa ngunda ama nikora omandjembere wa tja, “Mo zemburuka tji wa ri okaṱiṱi kutja oo ri omandjembere nomaṱupa wawo. Ove oo sindwa nu koo yenene okuyenda kokaruwo oure wotjivike!” “Ii, pehuri pandje aape hihamwa tjinene,” Hilifa wa zemburuka, na yoro.
“Look, there’s an omandjembere bush. Go and pick some to take home.” When Hilifa was picking the sweet berries, she said, “Do you remember when you were small you ate the berries and the seed inside. You didn’t go to the toilet for a week!” “Yes, my stomach was sooo sore,” remembered Hilifa, laughing.
Tji va vaza ponganda ina ya Hilifa wa urirwe tjinene. Hilifa we mu hangera otee. Meme Ndapanda wa toora okambakete okaṱiṱi kehi yombete. Hilifa, inga okoye. Mombakete inga mu na oviṋa mbi mavi ku zemburukisa kutja ove wa za pi.”
When they got home Hilifa’s mother was very tired. Hilifa made some tea. Meme Ndapanda took a small box from under her bed. “Hilifa, this is for you. In this box are things that will help you remember where you come from.”
Eye wa toora oviṋa ovizemburukise mbya ri mokambakete kotjimwetjimwe. “Ihi otjiperendero tja iho ngwa ṱiza ove. Ove wa ri omuatje omuzandu otjiveri tje. Ihi otjiperendero tja indu tji mbe ku twara koo nyoko omukurukaze na iho omukururume. Ove va ri nondjoroka tjinene. Imba orondu tji we kuka eyo roye etenga. Mo zemburuka tjoo riri nu ami tji mbe kwizika kutja omayo warwe omengi maye hapa. Ihi otjiyandjewa tji mba pewa i iho tji twa za nokukupasana ombura imwe.”
She took the mementos out of the box one by one. “This is a photo of your father holding you. You were his firstborn son. This photo is when I took you to see your grandparents, they were so happy. This is the first tooth you lost. Do you remember how you cried and I had to promise you that more would grow. This is the brooch your father gave me when we were married for one year.”
Hilifa wa ṱiza inga okambakete na utu okurira. Ina we mu nanena popezu na ye na kumbu, “Muhona nge ku tjevere nu nge ku ṱize nawa.” Eye we mu yeta popezu na ye nu a tja. “Hilifa, muzandu wandje. Ove mo tjiwa kutja mba vera tjinene, nu tjimanga me kakara pu na iho. Ami hi nokuvanga kutja ove u kare noruhoze. Zemburuka kutja ami mbe ku suvera. Zemburuka kutja iho we ku suverere tjinene.”
Hilifa held the box and began to cry. His mother held him close by her side and said a prayer, “May the Lord protect you and keep you safe.” She held him as she spoke. “Hilifa, my son. You know that I am very ill, and soon I will be with your father. I don’t want you to be sad. Remember how much I love you. Remember how much your father loved you.”
Ina wa kaenda komurungu, “Ongundwee Kave ngu kara kOshakati u tu hindira ovimariva otja pu ma yenene. Eye we ndji raera kutja me ku tjevere. Ami mba hungira ku na ye ohunga notjiṋa ihi. Ove mo i kosikore pu na Kunuu, omuzandona we. Kunuu u ri mondondo 4 tjimuna ove. Ovo mave ku tjevere nawa tjinene.” “Ami mba suvera Omo Kave na Tandaa Muzaa,” Hilifa wa tja. Nu ami mba suvera okunyanda pu na Kunuu. “Ove mo yenene okuveruka tji wa katjeverwa i vo?” “Kako, muzandu wandje. Ami himee kaveruka. Ove u ndji tjevera nawa tjinene. Ami mbi na omutongatima okukara nomuzandu omusemba nao tjimuna ove.”
His mother continued, “Uncle Kave from Oshakati sends us money when he can. He told me that he will care for you. I have talked to him about it. You’ll go to school with Kunuu, his son. Kunuu is in Grade 4 like you. They will take good care of you.” “I like Uncle Kave and Aunt Muzaa,” said Hilifa. “And I like playing with Kunuu. Would you become well if they look after you?” “No, my son. I won’t become well. You look after me very well. I am proud to have such a good son.”
Eyuva ependukirwa posikore Omuyozikwa Nelao we ve honga ohunga NEHINGA NONDWI yaro. Ovahongwa va uruma. Ovo va zuva ohunga nomutjise mbwi moratiyo, nungwari pozoyavo kape na omundu ngu hungirira ko. “Owo hapo u za pi? “Magano wa pura.” “Omundu u yenena okuumuna vi?” Hidipo wa pura. Omuyozikwa Nelao wa seturura kutja EHINGA ena rondwi. Omundu tje na ondwi yehiga mombinḓu ye u munika ouveruke. “Tu tja omundu u na EHINGA indu tja utu okuvera.
The next morning at school Ms. Nelao taught them about HIV and AIDS. The learners looked afraid. They heard about this illness on the radio, but no-one spoke about it at home. “Where does it come from?” asked Magano. “How do we catch it?” asked Hidipo. Ms. Nelao explained that HIV is the name of a virus. When a person has the HIV virus in their blood they still look healthy. “We say they have AIDS when they become ill.”
Omuyozikwa Nelao wa seturura omiano tjiva omundu me yenena okumuna ondwi yehinga. “Tji pe na omundu ngu na ondwi yehinga poo ehinga matu yenene okumuna ondwi ndji okuza kombinḓu ye. Eṱe katu sere okuungurisa otukurure poo oukombo womayo kumwe. Tji matu toporisa omatwi wetu tu sokuungurisa ozonane notukurure mbya kohororwa.” Eye wa handjaura kutja ozonanene notukurure vi kohororwa vi. Tji pe na ngwe ri hihamisa nu mape ziza ombinḓu, tu sokuningira ovandu ovanene vetu vatere okukoha otjirwaro ho. Tu sokumanga otjirwaro kutja tu tji tjevere.” eye we ve raere.
Ms. Nelao explained some of the ways we can be infected with HIV. “If someone has HIV or AIDS we can catch the virus from their blood. We should never share razors or toothbrushes. If we get our ears pierced we must use sterilised blades and needles.” She explained how needles and blades should be sterilised. “If we hurt ourselves and there is blood we must ask an adult to clean the wound. We must cover the wound to protect it,” she told them.
Kuzambo eye we ve raisire otjipape. “Imbi omiano mu u hi na okuyenena okumuna ondwi yehinga,” eye we ve raere. “Ove komoo munu ondwi yehinga tji mamu ungurisa okaruwo kemwe, poo okurikoha mombata imwe. Okurivaranga momukweṋu, okuhupitasana poo okuyandja oruwano komundu ngu na ehinga nondwi yaro poo ngwa vera ehinga kape noumba kaparukaze. Mamu yenene uriri okuungurisa pamwe omakopi poo oviyaha nomundu ngu na ehinga nondwi yaro poo ngwa vera ehinga orini. Nu kamaamu munu ro okuza komundu ngu ma korora poo ngu ma tye ozombato. Nu noho, kamaamu ri munu indu tji mwa rumatwa i orumwe poo ozombombo poo ozona.”
Then she showed them a chart. “These are all the ways you can’t catch HIV,” she told them. “You won’t get HIV from using the toilet, or sharing a bath. Hugging, kissing or shaking hands with someone with HIV or AIDS is also safe. It’s OK to share cups and plates with someone who has HIV or AIDS. And you can’t catch it from someone who is coughing or sneezing. Also, you can’t get it from mosquitoes or other biting insects like lice or bedbugs.”
U sokutjita vi tji we ri munu?” Magano wa pura. “Ove u sokuritjevera nawa tjinene nokurya ovikurya oviveruke ovingi. Taree kotjikarata tjetu tjovikurya,” eye wa tja. “Ouṋe ngu ma zemburuka ovikurya mbi ri oviveruke kove?” eye wa pura.
“What do you do if you’ve got it?” asked Magano. “Well, you must take care of yourself and eat lots of healthy food. Look at our food chart,” she said. “Who can remember what food is good for you?” she asked.
Hilifa tja kotoka ponganda wa serekarera ku ina mbya hongwa kosikore. “Omuyozikwa Nelao we tu hongo ohunga nehinga nondwi yaro na indi ehinga orini nokutja tu sokutjevera vi omundu tja vere. Magano na Hidipo mave yenene okundjivatera noviungura ponganda nu matu ungura oviungura vyetu vyosikore pamwe.” eye we mu raere.
When Hilifa got home he told his mother what he had learned at school that day. “Ms. Nelao told us about HIV and AIDS and how to look after someone who’s ill. Magano and Hidipo are going to help me with my chores and we will do our homework together,” he told her.
Omapeta weyuva ndo Magano na Hidipo ve ya nu ave mu vatere okukateka omeva. Hidipo we mu vatera okukatyora ozonguṋe. Kuzambo ave haama okuungura oviungura vyavo vyosikore kehi yomuti mbwi omurunga.
That afternoon Magano came and helped Hilifa to fetch water. Hidipo helped him to gather firewood. Then they sat and did their homework in the shade of the marula tree.
Omuyozikwa Nelao wina wa raera ovararanganda va Hilifa kutja eye u tjevera ina. Ovo va yandja oruyano kutja mave utu okumuvatera. Ongurova aihe aape kara omundu warwe ngu me ve etere ovikurya ovipyu okurya. Hilifa aruhe ee ve pe ovihape okuza mokakunino.
Ms. Nelao had also told Hilifa’s neighbours that he was looking after his mother. They had promised to help him. Every night a different neighbour came with hot food for them to eat. Hilifa always gave them some vegetables from the garden.
Eyuva esenina rosikore okupata Hilifa wa ri nondjoroka tjinene. Eye wa tupuka konganda ma kayarisire ina orapota ye. Eye wa enda kotjikara na hiti moyata ama isana ina, ‘Mama. Mama. Tara orapota yandje “Ami mba munu ‘oA ‘, ‘noA ’ ‘nozoA ’ “Hilifa wa vaza ina a rara mombete. “Mama!” eye wa isana. “Mama! Penduka!” Nungwari eye ka pendukire ko.
On the last day of the school term Hilifa was very happy. He ran home to show his mother his report card. He ran into the yard calling, “Mum. Mum. Look at my report card. I have got ‘A’, ‘A’, and more ‘A’s’.” Hilifa found his mother lying in bed. “Mum!” he called. “Mum! Wake up!” She didn’t wake up.
Hilifa wa tupuka kovararanganda. “Mama. Mama. Ke na okupenduka,” eye ma riri. Ovararanganda va ya konganda pu na Hilifa nu ave kavaza Meme Ndapanda e ri mombete ye. “Eye wa ṱu, Hilifa, “owo va hepura noruhoze.
Hilifa ran to the neighbours. “My Mum. My Mum. She won’t wake up,” he cried. The neighbours went home with Hilifa and found Meme Ndapanda in her bed. “She is dead, Hilifa,” they said sadly.
Tjimanga ombuze ya ingana kutja Meme Ndapanda wa ṱu. Ondjuwo tjimanga ye ura novazamumwe, ovararanganda nomapanga. Ovo va kumbira ina ya Hilifa nokumuimburira. Ovo va serekarera oviṋa oviwa mbi mave tjiwa ohunga na ye.
Very quickly the news spread that Meme Ndapanda was dead. The house was full of family, neighbours and friends. They prayed for Hilifa’s mother and sang hymns. They talked about all the good things they knew about her.
Tandaa Muzaa wa zikira ovaenda avehe. Omo Kave wa raera Hilifa kutja mave mu twaerere kOshakati kombunda yombakero. Ihe omunene we mu serekarera omahungi ohunga na ina tja ri okakazona okaṱiṱi.
Aunt Muzaa cooked for all the visitors. Uncle Kave told Hilifa that they would take him back to Oshakati after the funeral. His Grandfather told him stories about his mother when she was a little girl.
Pombakero Hilifa wa ya komurungu mokereka na karaera ovandu avehe ohunga na ina. “Mama we ndji suverere nu ee ndji ṱiza nawa tjinene. Eye ee ndji raere kutja hi rihonge nawa kutja mbi kamune oviungura oviwa. Eye aa vanga kutja aruhe mbi kare nondjoroka. Ami me rihongo nokuungura tjinene kutja eye ma kare nomutongatima na ami.
At the funeral Hilifa went to the front of the church and told everyone about his mother. “My mother loved me and looked after me very well. She told me to study hard so that I could get a good job. She wanted me to be happy. I will study hard and work hard so that she can be proud of me.”
Kombunda yombakero Omo Kave na Tandaa Muzaa va vatera Hilifa okupaka oviṋa vye mbi ma twaerere kOshakati. “Kunuu u na ondjoroka kutja mamu yekurira omapanga,” ovo ve mu raere. “Eṱe matu ke ku ṱiza nawa tjimuna okanatje ketu oveni.” Hilifa wa virikiza ondjuwo yavo na karonda mokasaru pu na vo.
After the funeral Uncle Kave and Aunt Muzaa helped Hilifa to pack his things to take to Oshakati. “Kunuu is looking forward to having a new friend,” they told him. “We will care for you like our own son.” Hilifa said goodbye to the house and got into the taxi with them.
Written by: Kandume Ruusa, Sennobia-Charon Katjiuongua, Eliaser Nghitewa
Illustrated by: Jamanovandu Urike
Translated by: Angelika Tjouṱuku, Asnath Mundjindjiri
Language: Otjiherero
Level: Level 5
Source: Orphans need love too from African Storybook
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.