Gaxu, gaxu ǁae-en ge khoena xū-e ge ǀū-i. ǁÎn ge ge ǀū i mâtin nî ǃhanaǂgā, tamas ka io sarana ǂom, tamas ka io ǀurin ǀkha sîsenūxūna kuru ǀgausa. ǁNā elob Nyameb ǀhommi ǃnâ hâb, ge hoa gā-aisib ǃhūbaib diba ge ūhâ i. ǁÎb ge nē gā-aisiba ǂgoasū i ǃnâ ge sâu hâ i.
Long long ago people didn’t
know anything. They didn’t
know how to plant crops, or
how to weave cloth, or how to
make iron tools.
The god Nyame up in the sky
had all the wisdom of the world.
He kept it safe in a clay pot.
ǀGui tsēb ge Nyameba ge mîllgui ǁîb nē gā-aisib sūsa, Anansiba nî mā ǃkhaisa. Mâǁaeb hoab hîab Anansiba nē sūs ǃnâ ra kōbab ge ǀasa xū-e ra ǁkhāǁkhāsen. Kaise i ge ge ǁkhoaxa i!
One day, Nyame decided that
he would give the pot of
wisdom to Anansi.
Every time Anansi looked in the
clay pot, he learned something
new. It was so exciting!
Xūǃgunuxa Anansib ge gere ǂâi, “Sūsa ta ge ti xa ǀgapi hais ǂamǃnâ ǃnorasase nî ūhâ. O ta ge ti ams ai hoana nî ūhâ” ti. ǁÎb ge gaxu tsuriba ǂgoasūs ǂnamipeba xū ǁîb ǁkhoms ai ge ǃgae. ǁÎb ge hais ai ge ǂoa tsoatoa. Xawe i ge kaise ge ǃgom i hais ai ǂgoasūs ǀkha ǂoasa, ǁîs ge ǁîb ǁgoadi ai hoaǁae gere ǂgâusen xui-ao.
Greedy Anansi thought, “I’ll
keep the pot safe at the top of a
tall tree. Then I can have it all
to myself!”
He spun a long thread, wound it
round the clay pot, and tied it to
his stomach.
He began to climb the tree. But
it was hard climbing the tree
with the pot bumping him in the
knees all the time.
Nēǁaeb hoabab ge Anansib ǀgôaba hais ǃnaka ge mâ i, ǁîba ra ǃharase. ǁÎb ge ge mî, “Supu i tide ǂharosa, sūsab ga Dadaba ǁâb ai a apa o?” Anansib ge ge dītsâ ǂgoasūs gā-aisib xa ǀoa hâsa, ǁîb ǁâb ai ǃgaesa, tsî i ge kaise ge supuba bi.
All the time Anansi’s young son
had been standing at the
bottom of the tree watching. He
said, “Wouldn’t it be easier to
climb if you tied the pot to your
back instead?”
Anansi tried tying the clay pot
full of wisdom to his back, and it
really was a lot easier.
Supuseb ge ǀgapikhab kōse ge ǂharo, xaweb ge sâ tsî ra ǂâiǃgâ, “Tita gom hoa gā-aisisa ūhâ o, ob mâti ti ôaba tita xa ra gā-ai?” ǁÎb ge kaise nēs xa ǁaixakaihe, tsî ǂgoasūsa haisa xū ge aoǁnâ.
In no time he reached the top of
the tree.
But then he stopped and
thought, “I’m supposed to be
the one with all the wisdom,
and here my son was cleverer
than me!”
Anansi was so angry about this
that he threw the clay pot down
out of the tree.
ǁÎs ge ǃhūb ai, ǃârodi ǃnâ ge khôaǃā. Gā-aisib ge hoan xa ǀgoraguhe ǁkhāse, ge ǃnoraǃnorahe. ǁNāpaxun ge khoena ge ǁkhāǁkhāsen ǃgaro sîsengu, ǃom sîsengu, sarana kurus, ǀuri sisenūxūna kurus, tsî ǁkhāti hoaraga xūn khoen dī ǁkhāna.
It smashed into pieces on the
ground. The wisdom was free
for everyone to share.
And that is how people learned
to farm, to weave cloth, to
make iron tools, and all the
other things that people know
how to do.
Ghanaian folktale
Wiehan de Jager
Maureen Merley So-Oabes
Khoekhoegowab
Level 3
