Ti ǁnaos ǃhanab ge kaise ǂoaǂamsa, sorxam-i, millet-i, tsî kasava hân xa ǀoa hâ. Xawe hoan xa ǂoaǂamsase ge māǂoan ge bananana. Ti ǁnaos ge ǂâuna ǁnuriǀgôana ge ūhâ i, xawe ta ge tita ge ǂan i, tita ǁîs di ǃganǀû ǃkhaisa. ǁÎs ge ǂkhari ǂanǃgâsasirona ge re ǁgamba te. Xawe ǀgui ǂanǃgâsasib ge ge hâ i mîba te tamas ge hâ iba: mapas ge re bananana ǁanǁan ǃkhaisa.
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.
ǀGuitsē ta ge kaiǃgâ ǀharusa sores ǃnâ, ǁîs oms ǃauka ge mûmâ. Dî si ta ge tare-i a sa, o hoarahus ǃereams ǁîsa xu ta ge hōs ge, “Ti ǀō-aisa ǀharus ge.” ǀHarus xōǀkha gu ge ǀnîkhamakō banana ǂnarega, ǁîs xa ge ǁaeba xu ǁaeb ǁga gere dawa-aihe ga, ge ǁgoe-i. ǂHīna kai te ge. “Ti ǁnaose, tare-i di ǂnarega?” Tita ge ge dî. “Ti ǀō-aisa ǂnaregu ge.”
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.”
Kaise i ge ge ǀō-aisa i, ti ǁnaos, bananagu, bananaǂnaregu, tsî kai ǀharus ona kōsa. Xawes ge ǁîsa ti mamas ǁga ge sî te. “Ti ǁnaose, a ta toxoba aiǂhomi du ra ǀgausa kō …” “Tā ǃgaridana, ǀgôaro, mîbahes ra khami dī,” tis ge ge mî,” tsî ta ge ǃnoesase ge ǃkhoe.
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.
Oaǀkhī ta ge o, os ge ti ǁnaosa ǃauga ge ǂnôa i ǀharus tsî bananagu ose. “Ti ǁnaose, ǀharusa mâpa hâ, bananagu hoaga mâpa hâ, tsî mâpa …” Hoarahus ǃereams hîa ta ge hōs ge, “Ti ǀō-aisa ǃkhais ǃnâ.” Kaise i ge ge ǃhaminǃgâ!
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!
ǀGam tsēra ǃkharu tsîs ge ti ǁnaosa ǁîs ǁgâibasenhaiba ge sîte ǁîs ǁgoeǃnâǃnā-oms ǁga. Dao-amsa ta ra ǁkhowa-am khama ta ge ǀgaisa ǁamab ǁan ra bananagu dib xa ge ǁkhoreǁharehe. ǂGanagab ǃnā-oms ǃnâs ge ti ǁnaos ǀō-aisa kai ǀharusa ge mâ i. ǃAmkuse sâusase ǀoro ǂnams ǃnaka. Tita ge ūkhâi tsî ge ǃkhawa nē ǁkhoaxa hamma.
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.
Ti ǁnaos dommi ge ra ǃhurikaite ǂgaites ra ǁaeb ai, “Tare-es ra dī? ǃHaese dī, î haiba mātehā.” Tita ge ǃhaese ǁîs ǁgâibasenhaib ǀkha ge ǂoaxa. “Tare-es ra ǀnomba ǀgausa?” tis ge ti ǁnaosa ra dîte. ǁÎs dîs ge ǁkhoaxa ǀnomma xu ǃnoesase ge oaǀkhī kaite, ǂanǂuis nē ǀō-aisa sâuǃkhais dis xa hâb, disa xu.
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.
Sao ra tsēs ge ti ǁnaosa ti mamasa hā ge sari, tita ge ǁîs omsa ǃoa ge ǃkhoe, î ta bananaga ǁkhawa si kō ga. ǀNîkhamakō gu ge ǀnai ge ǁan hâ i. ǀGuiba ū tsî ta ge ti rokhoes ǃnâ ge sâu. ǀHarusa ǂganamtoa tsî ta ge oms ǃgâbai naba, tsî ǃhaese ge ǂûbi. ǁKhoaxa ǂhōn bananab hîa ta ge tsâtsâ ge īb ge.
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.
Sao ra tsēs ge re ti ǁnaosa ǃhanab ǃnâ ǃhanaǂûna hare, hîa ta ge ǀkhuriǂgâ tsî bananaga ge ǂuiǃnâ. ǁAupexa gu ge hoaga ge ǁan hâ i. Huiǁoa ta ge i xui-ao ta ge hakaga ge ū. Dao-ams ǁga ta ra ǀkhuriǂoa hîa ta ge ti ǁnaos ra ǁui ǀgausa ge ǁnâu. ǃNoesase ta ge rokhoes ǃnāka ra sâugu tsî ǁîs xōǀkhā ge ǃkharu.
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.
Sao ra tsēs ge ge ǁamaxūtsē i. Ti ǁnaos ge kaise ǃnauǁgoa ge khâi. ǁÎs ge hoaǁae ǁan hâ bananagu tsî kasafagu tsîna sī gere ǁamaxū ǁamaxūǃkhaib tawa. Tita ge ǁîsa ǁnātsē ge sari tama hâ i. Xawe ta ge gaxūse ǁîsa xū ge hâbē ǁoa i.
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.
Ega ǁnātsēkam ǃuia ra ge ti îra, tsî ti ǁnaos tsîna ge ǂgaite. ǃAromasa ta ge ge ǂan i. ǁNā ǃoe ta ge ǁgoe o, ta ge ge ǂanǁawo ǁkhawa ta ǃnari tide ǃkhaisa, ti ǁnaosa xū, ti îra xu, tsî ǀnîa khoe-e xū.
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.
Ursula Nafula
Catherine Groenewald
Maureen Merley So-Oabes
Khoekhoegowab
Level 4
