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Ifuku inafumini kumukala nakuya kumbaka The day I left home for the city Ubushiku nafumine pa ŋanda ukuya ku kalaale

Written by Lesley Koyi, Ursula Nafula

Illustrated by Brian Wambi

Translated by Oscar Zangata

Language Lunda

Level Level 3

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Kawimenu wa basi mumukala wami kenzeli nawantu na zhi basi zhaswezha kwenzala nawa. Hamaseki hadin’ga yuma yikwawu yadin’ga Nakuken’geka kulon’gewa. Atuponya adin’ga Nakubidika zhinzhila kwadin’ga nakuya zhina zhi basi.

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.


Mbaka! Mbaka! Kuya kumuzhika! Natiyili kaponya nakubidika. Diyi basi inaken’gelen’ga kukandama.

“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.


Basi yakuya kumbaka yadin’ga kwakamwihi nakwinzala, ilan’ga antu adin’ga achidi nakudishinjizheka kulonda en’gili. Amakwawu alon’geli yiteli yawu mwishina da basi. Amakwawu nawa ashili yawa hayitamba mukachi ka basi.

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.


Amaha akweleli basi adin’ga nakuvun’gulula tuzhi tiketi twawu nakuken’ga hakushakama muna mu basi yakwinzhala. Akamama adin’ga nanyana ayishakamishili chachiwayi mulon’ga wanzhila kuleha.

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.


Nadiswizhili kwakwihi nanjanena. Muntu washakamini kwakwihi nanami wadin’ga na Chola cha mafu amatamba ajinjikiliyi. Wavweli ma sando amwaka na jaketi yatabuzhoka kaha nawa wadin’ga nakumwekana wawoma.

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.


Natalili hanzhi ya basi hinikwiluka Nami hinikushiya kumukala, ilun’ga munakulili. Nadin’ga nakuya kumbaka.

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.


Kulon’ga yitelu kwakumini kaha nawa antu ezhima ashakazheli. Akakulandisha yakuda adiswezhili Kulonda alandishi yakuda kudi antu mu basi. Ezhima wawu adin’ga Nakubidika yakuda yadin’gawu nayu. Mazhina kana wenawa adin’ga akusehesha.

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.


Antu amakwawu mu basi alandili zhakunwa amakwawu twakubokota nakutachika kuda. Ana adin’ga abula madi neyami, adin’ga nakutala hohu.

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.


Kusekashana kweniku akwimikili mulon’ga waku bukuma cha basi hikumwekesha neyi basi yidi kwakwihi nakunyemuka. Kaponya walezheli akakulandisha kufuma mu basi.

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.

Ukushitisha no kushita kwapumfyanishiwe lintu uuta ya saacai yalilile, ukulangisha ukuti yaali mukwima. Kondakita epakupundilila bakashitisha bonse ukuti bekile muli saaca.


Akakulandisha adishinjikili wumu namukwawu kulonda afumi muna mu basi. Amakwawu adin’ga achidi nakuken’ga kulandisha muka mpinji kanyanya.

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.


Chiyadi’ga nakunyemuka basi, natalili hanzhi ya injanena. Nadin’ga nakudihula neyi nikamba chen’gi kufunta kumukala.

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.


Chitwatwalekenihu nanzhila, mukachi ka basi mwadin’ga mwatata. Nabutili menso ami nami hekwawu nikukama.

As the journey progressed, the inside of the bus got very hot. I closed my eyes hoping to sleep.

Cilya tuleya, muli saaca mwakaba. Naisala amenso ukuti ningashipulako.


Ilan’ga yishin’ganyeka yami yadin’ga nakunfuntisha kumukala. Ochu mama wukwikala chiwahi? Ochu manakwami wukwanuka kuhempula imbuti zhami?

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?

Nomba amaano yandi yabwelela ku ŋanda. Bushe bamaayo bakekala umutende? Bushe bakalulu bandi bakashitishiwa? Bushe ndume yandi akulaibukisha ukutapilila utumuti twandi?


Munzhila yezhima nadin’ga nakwanuka izhina dambaka yayineni kwadin’ga nakushakamayi mandumi yami. Nadin’ga nakuyitena nikutulu chinakamini.

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.

Mu nshila naya ndesungila ishina lya ncende ukwaleikala bayaama mu kalaale. Ncili ndeilumbula mu kapoopo naponena mutulo.


Ma aawa atanu nawa yedi, nahindukili namapumba akutambizheka antu anakufunta chen’gi kumukala wami. Nasendeli Chola chami Nakukilukamu mu basi.

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.

Panuma yansa pabula, nabukila mu congo cabalepunda no kupumpusha ukwita abaleebwekelamo ku mushi wesu. Nasompola akacoola no kufuma muli saaca.


Adin’ga nakufunta kumukala adin’ga nakwinzheshamu swayi. Ken’ga yitachiki chen’gi kufunta kumutuntuki. Chuma chedin’ga chalema kudama chedin’ga chakuken’ga kwadin’ga itala da mandumi yami.

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.


Written by: Lesley Koyi, Ursula Nafula
Illustrated by: Brian Wambi
Translated by: Oscar Zangata
Language: Lunda
Level: Level 3
Source: The day I left home for the city from African Storybook
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
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