Yo ki Khalai. Unani lilimo ze ketalizoho kazepeli. Libizo la hae litalusa “yomunde” mwapuo ya Lubukusu.
This is Khalai. She is seven years old. Her name means ‘the good one’ in her language, Lubukusu.
Kakusasana Khalai hazuha ubulelisa kota ya olenji. “Kota tuwe nikupa kuli uhule mi ulufe maolenji abuzwize amañata.”
Khalai wakes up and talks to the orange tree. “Please orange tree, grow big and give us lots of ripe oranges.”
Khalai uya kwa sikolo. Mwa nzila abulela kwa bucwañi. “Bucwañi nikupa kuli uhule ka butala luli mi usike waoma.”
Khalai walks to school. On the way she talks to the grass. “Please grass, grow greener and don’t dry up.”
Khalai hafita mwahala lipalisa zamwa mushitu. “Mina lipalisa, muzwele pili kubenya kuli nange nimibeye mwa milili yaka.”
Khalai passes wild flowers. “Please flowers, keep blooming so I can put you in my hair.”
Hali kwasikolo, Khalai abulela kwa kota ye fahala patelo ali, “Kota tuwe uhule ni mitai yemituna kuli lubalelange mwa muluti wahao.”
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.”
Hali kwa sikolo Khalai abulela kwa lukwakwa lwa sikolo. “Uhule utiye hahulu kuli upaleliswe batu babamaswe kutaha mwahali.”
Khalai talks to the hedge around her school. “Please grow strong and stop bad people from coming in.”
Khalai akutela kwa hae, apotela kota ya olenji. “Maolenji ahao abuzwize cwale?” Khalai abuza.
When Khalai returns home from school, she visits the orange tree. “Are your oranges ripe yet?” asks Khalai.
“Maolenji asali butala,” Khalai aishumusa. “Nikakubona kamuso wena kota ya olenji,” Khalai abulela. “Mwendi nikatofumana olenji yebuzwize!”
“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!”
