Ehala lya thinana lyomathikameno goombesa olya li lyu udha aantu noombesa ndhoka dha li dhu udha dha fa ofenya. Pevi opwa li natango oondongelwa ndhoka dha li dha tegelelwa okulondekwa. Aalondeki oya li taa igidha nokutseyitha omahala hoka oombesa dhawo dha li dhu uka.
The small bus stop in my village was busy with people and overloaded buses. On the ground were even more things to load. Touts were shouting the names where their buses were going.
“Koshilando! Koshilando! Tse otu uka kuuninginino!” Osho nda uvu omulondeki ta igidha. Nandjoka oyo ya li ombesa ndjoka ndi na okulonda.
“City! City! Going west!” I heard a tout shouting. That was the bus I needed to catch.
Ombesa oya li konyala yu udha, ihe aantu oyendji oya li natango taa iyundula opo ya mone mo omahala. Aantu yamwe oya tula iinima yawo kohi yombesa omanga yamwe ye yi tula moolaka meni lyombesa.
The city bus was almost full, but more people were still pushing to get on. Some packed their luggage under the bus. Others put theirs on the racks inside.
Aafaalelwa oya li ye na uutekete wawo pomake omanga taa kongo natango omahala mothina yaantu mpoka taa kuutumba. Aakulukadhi mboka ya li ye na uuhanona oya kambadhala oku wu kaleka nawa noku wu longekidhila olweendo olule.
New passengers clutched their tickets as they looked for somewhere to sit in the crowded bus. Women with young children made them comfortable for the long journey.
Ngame onda hitikwa pokahala okashona pooha dhekende. Omuntu ngoka nda li nda tegama naye okwa li a kwata onayilona ndjoka ya li meke lye e yi dhiginina. Okwa li a zala oongaku dhoosandala dha kulupa nombaikitha ya nyayika. Okwa li ta monika a timpililwa.
I squeezed in next to a window. The person sitting next to me was holding tightly to a green plastic bag. He wore old sandals, a worn out coat, and he looked nervous.
Onda tala pondje, onda dhimbulula kutya otandi thigi po omukunda gwaandjetu, ehala mpoka nda putukila. Otandi yi koshilando oshinene.
I looked outside the bus and realised that I was leaving my village, the place where I had grown up. I was going to the big city.
Okulondeka okwa pu, naafaalelwa ayehe oya li ya kuutumba. Aalandithi oya li taa ithininike natango okuya mombesa opo ya landithe iipindi yawo. Kehe gumwe okwa li ta igidha shoka a li ta landitha. Iitya oya li iiyolithi momakutsi gandje.
The loading was completed and all passengers were seated. Hawkers still pushed their way into the bus to sell their goods to the passengers. Everyone was shouting the names of what was available for sale. The words sounded funny to me.
A few passengers bought drinks, others bought small snacks and began to chew. Those who did not have any money, like me, just watched.
Omainyengo ngaka oga ka hulithwa po kombenda yombesa ndjoka ya hiki, okuulika kutya ombesa otayi katuka. Omulondeki okwa igidha naalandithi oya zi mo mombesa.
These activities were interrupted by the hooting of the bus, a sign that we were ready to leave. The tout yelled at the hawkers to get out.
Aalandithi oya li taa undulathana sho taa zi mo mombesa. Yamwe oya li natango yi ipyakidhila okugandja ooshendja dhaamboka ya landa. Omanga yamwe ya li ngaa natango taa heke aantu ya lande.
Hawkers pushed each other to make their way out of the bus. Some gave back change to the travellers. Others made last minute attempts to sell more items.
Ombesa sho ya tameke okweenda onda kala nda tala mekende. Onda li nda kumwa ngele otandi ka mona we tuu ompito okugalukila komukunda gwetu ishewe.
As the bus left the bus stop, I stared out of the window. I wondered if I would ever go back to my village again.
Molweendo, mombesha omwa tameke okupupyala noonkondo. Onda thithikile opo andola ndi kothe po.
As the journey progressed, the inside of the bus got very hot. I closed my eyes hoping to sleep.
Omadhiladhilo gandje ogi ishuna konima kegumbo. Meme ota ka kala tuu e li megameno? Uulimba wandje otawu eta tuu okamaliwa kasha? Okamwamememati ota ka ka dhimbulukwa tuu okutekela iimeno yandje?
But my mind drifted back home. Will my mother be safe? Will my rabbits fetch any money? Will my brother remember to water my tree seedlings?
Molweendo ondi idhimbulutha edhina lyehala mpoka kuku a li a kala moshilando. Onda li natango tandi li tumbula sho nda gu omulendu koomposi.
On the way, I memorised the name of the place where my uncle lived in the big city. I was still mumbling it when I fell asleep.
Konima yoowili omugoyi, onda pendulwa kekonkolo nokeigidho lyaamboka ya li ya hala okufaalelwa komukunda okuza koshilando. Onda kwata okandjato kandje nda dhiginina, e tandi nuka mo mombesa.
Nine hours later, I woke up with loud banging and calling for passengers going back to my village. I grabbed my small bag and jumped out of the bus.
Mbala ombesa oya udha ishewe aafaalelwa. Mbala mbala otayi ka shuna ishewe kuuzilo hoka ya zile. Shoka sha li shi na oshilonga kungame osho oku ka konga egumbo lyakuku mpoka lya li lya gama.
The return bus was filling up quickly. Soon it would make its way back east. The most important thing for me now, was to start looking for my uncle’s house.
Lesley Koyi, Ursula Nafula
Brian Wambi
Rachel Nandjembo
Rachel Nandjembo
Oshindonga
Level 3
