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.
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.”
Yanitowarire yokurorera Mama ghomukamadi, mapanana, mahako ghomapanana nothikote thokathipo thishokuru. Ene mama ghanitumine kwanawe. “Mama, nakukanderera nithighe nikurorere edi ghunakurongathana…” “Wakara ndhino, mwanuke, rughane dyodi nakutongwera,” dyoghathinenekire. Ghonayendire ghutjira.
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.
Apa nakahukire, nanamuwanine Mama ne ghanahungumana panunda. Ene mbadi nothikote nomapanana temba. “Mama, kupi thikote, kupi mapanana ghomaheya, nokupi…” Ene aye ghahuthire eshi, “Yoyiheya kudyango dyange dyomafweno yidi.” Yinu ‘yi yanikashithire shemwa!
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!
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.
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.
Diyuwa dyokurandako apa gheyire Mama noghadhingure nawe, nadhondokire kundhugho dhendi nikaghakenge karo mapanana. Nakawanine dindjomboro dyagho dyopyuu. NaNatumburirerimo dyofotji ghonadihorekire mumuthithi wange. Apa namanine kufurumeka thikote, nayendire kumukunduruko nikatambukithe kudivunyavunya. Ghakarire panana ghomutowi thikuma oyu napira kuyereka rumweya.
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.
Diyuwa dyokurandako, apa ghatemine mama rwidhi muthinyamo, nanyomine nikanokere mapanana. Thingi thagho ghakarire mafufuta. Mbadi nakonine kudhidhimeka ghonashimbire dindjomboro dyomapanana manne. Apa nanyom, ineghunyakeka. Apa, nakumine pepi nothero, ghonayuvire Mama ghanakukohora panunda. Nakonine kuhoreka mapanana mumuthithi wange nokumupoghoroka.
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.
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.
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.
Written by: Ursula Nafula
Illustrated by: Catherine Groenewald
Translated by: Maria M. Dikuua, Servasius M. Ndjunga
Ursula Nafula
Catherine Groenewald
Maria M. Dikuua, Servasius M. Ndjunga
Maria Dikuua
Thimbukushu
Level 4
