Pa kitesheni paimenanga masakya ku muzhi pavujile bantu ne ma sakya ayula nabipe ne bantu. Kabiji ne panshi pajinga ne bintu bikwabo byavula bya kulonga. Banyamata ba bijikelenga kubena kuya masakya.
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.
Pa citesheni ca saaca mu mushi wandi pali abantu abengi na basaaca abaiswilemo abantu. Panshi napo ninshi pali ifipe na fimbi ifyakulonga. Abalumendo ninshi baleependilila ukuleya basaaca.
“Kutaunyi! Kutaunyi! Babena kuya ku muzhika!” Naumvwine munyamata wabijika. Yo sakaya yo nakebelwenga ku kanjila.
“City! City! Going west!” I heard a tout shouting. That was the bus I needed to catch.
“Ku kalale! Ku kalale! Abaleya ku masamba!” Naumfwile baleepunda. Eesaaca nalingile ukuniina.
Uno sakya wakutauni washajile pacheche kuyula kabiji ne bantu bavula beshinjikilenga amba batwele. Bamo balongele bipe byabo munshi wa sakaya. Bakwabo nabo batujile bipe byabo mukachi pakulamina bipe.
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.
Saaca yaaleeya ku kalaale ninshi ili mukwisula, nomba abantu beena ninshi bacili balelwisha ukuniina. Bambi baalongele ifipe munshi ya saaca. Bambi baalongele pa tushimbi twa mukati ka saaca.
Ba kang’enda baishilenga pa nyuma bakwachile ma tikechi abo kumaboko saka bakeba pa kwikala musakya wayula. Bainetu baji nabana bebekajile bulongo pa lweendo lwa lepa.
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.
Abaaleniina baikatiliile utumatikiti lintu baalefwaya apakwikala muli saaca iyaiswile abantu. Banamaayo abaali na baana baafwaile abaana babo apakwikala bwino pa bulendo ubutali.
Nechichimikele kwipi na windo. Muntu waikele kwipi ne amiwa wakwachijile bingi kyola kya pepala wa pulasitiki wa mazha matamba. Wavwajile nkwabilo yakala, ne jakete wapwa kabiji wamwekene kumvwa moyo.
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.
Naifyantike mupeepi ne windo. Abo naikeele nabo mupeepi baikete akacola ka pulashitiki akakatapakatapa. Baafwele indyato ishakale ne jaketi ilyapwa kabili baaleemoneka mwenso-mwenso.
Natajile panje ya sakya ne kulanguluka amba mbena kusha muzhi wami, mpunzha kona komejile. Nailenga ku taunyi mukatampe.
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.
Naloleshe panse ya saaca elyo caisa mu maano ukuti ciine-ciine naaleefuma mu mushi wandi, incende nakuliilemo. Naleeya ku musumba ukulu.
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.
Bapwisha ukulonga na bantu bonse baikala. Abakushitisha ninshi bacili balepitana muli saaca mu kushitisha utwamakwebo yabo ku bantu. Cila muntu alepunda amashina yafyo aaleeshitisha. Aya mashiwi baaleelanda yaaleesekesha.
Bakangenda bacheche bapotele byakutoma, bakwabo nabo bapotele byakujisha ne kutendeka kunyeuna. Aba bujile maali nobe amuwa, batajilengatu.
A few passengers bought drinks, others bought small snacks and began to chew. Those who did not have any money, like me, just watched.
Abalendo abanoono baashitile ifyakunwa, bambi bashita utwakulya batampa no kulya. Abashakwete indalama nga ine baletambakofye.
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.
Bakashitisha balasunkana pa kufuma muli bashi. Bambi baleebwesesha cenji ku baali pa bulendo. Bambi nabo balelwisha ukushitishako ifyakulekelesha.
Sakya byo yafuminga pa kitesheni, natajile pangye ya windo. Nalungulikele inge nkabwelako jibiji ku muzhi.
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.
Cilya saaca yafuma mu citesheni, nalaalolesha pa windo. Nalaatontokanya nga cakuti nkatala nkabwelelemo ku mushi na kabili.
Byotwaendeleko paluno lwendo, mukachi kasakya mwaishile mwapyana kya kine kine. Nazhinzhibele mukumona kuuba amba ndaleko.
As the journey progressed, the inside of the bus got very hot. I closed my eyes hoping to sleep.
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.
Bwangu-bwangu saaca yakubwelelamo yayaileisula. Nombalinefye yalaima ukubwekelamo kukabanga. Icaali icikalamba kuli ine pali ii nshita kwamba ukufwaya iŋanda ya bayaama.
