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Guyyan gara magaala deeme The day I left home for the city Siku niliyoondoka nyumbani kuelekea mjini

Written by Lesley Koyi, Ursula Nafula

Illustrated by Brian Wambi

Translated by Demoze Degefa

Language Oromo

Level Level 3

Narrate full story The audio for this story is currently not available.


Bakki dhabbata atobusaa xinnan ganda kenyaa namafi konkolatootan dhiphatee jira. Kanarra hafee wanti fe’amu qabu bayee tu lafa jira. Namooni tikeeti gurguran konkolatoota iyyan.

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.

Kituo kidogo cha mabasi kijijini mwetu kilijaa shughuli za watu na mabasi. mabasi mengi yalikuwa yamejaa mizigo. Chini, palikuwa na mizigo zaidi ya kupakia. Makondakta walikuwa wanataja majina ya sehemu mabasi yalikokuwa yanaelekea.


“Magaala! Magaala! Gare dhihaa!” jedhe gargaran konkolachisa. Konkolaatan suni kana ani barbaadu ture.

“City! City! Going west!” I heard a tout shouting. That was the bus I needed to catch.

“Mjini! Mjini! Magharibi!” Nilisikia kondakta akiita kwa sauti. Lile ndilo basi nililohitaji kupanda.


Atobisiin magaaladha bayee guutee jiraa namni garu yabbachuuf ifaaja. Namonni tokko tokko meshaa isaani konkolaata jalatti fe’atan. Namonni kuni immo kessa kayaatan.

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.

Basi la kwenda mjini lilikaribia kujaa, lakini watu wengine walikuwa wanasukumana kupanda. Baadhi yao walipakia mizigo chini ya basi. Wengine waliiweka katika sehemu ya juu.


Imaltooni harenyi tiikeetiissani cimsani qabatanii lafa teesuma barbadatan. Dubartoonii da’imaa qabana imala isaanif mijeesan.

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.

Abiria wapya walishika tiketi zao huku wakitafuta mahali pa kukaa. Wanawake waliokuwa na watoto wodogo waliwatayarisha kwa safari hiyo ndefu.


Ani immo dubarti abban mana irradu’ee tokko biran taa’e. Namni nabira taa’e tokko immo borsaa lasticaa hammatee qabateera. Qophee dulomaafi and kootii dulooma uffate waan aare fakkaata.

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.

Nilijipenyeza ndani na kukaa karibu na dirisha. Mtu aliyeketi karibu nami alishika mfuko wa plastiki wa kijani kibichi. Alivaa viatu vilivyochakaa, koti kuukuu na alionekana kuwa na wasiwasi.


Fodddaa konkolatatiin gara alaa yeroon qayee koo ittiguddadhe dhisee gara magaala deemuu koon qayyabadhe. Gara magaala gudda deeman jira.

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.

Niliangalia nje na kutambua kwamba nilikuwa naondoka kijijini kwangu, mahali ambapo nililelewa. Nilikuwa naenda katika mji mkubwa.


Meshaa fe’un xummurame jennan namni hunduu tesso qabatee taa’e. Daldaaltonni karaa gubbaa meshaa isaani gurguruf gara keessati lixan. Namni hunduu waan bituu barbaade gafachaa ture. Wacini sun garuu nadinqisisee.

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.

Upakiaji mizigo ulikamilika na abiria wakawa wameketi. Wachuuzi walizidi kusukumana kutaka kuingia ndani ya basi ili wauze bidhaa zao. Kila mmoja alitaja kwa sauti majina ya bidhaa alizokuwa anauza. Maneno yao yalinifurahisha.


Namooni tokko tokko yeroo wandhugamu bitatan kuuni immo waandhugan bitatan. Namonni akka anaa kan mallaqaa hinqabne, cal jedhanituma ilaalan.

A few passengers bought drinks, others bought small snacks and began to chew. Those who did not have any money, like me, just watched.

Baadhi ya abiria walinunua vinywaji. Wengine wakanunua vitafunwa vidogo na kuanza kutafuna. Wasiokuwa na fedha, kama mimi, walitazama tu.


Sochiin suni garu kalaksii konkolaatatin addan citee. Gargaaran konkolaachisaa daldaltootan bu’aa jedhe itti iyyee.

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.

Shughuli hizi zilikatizwa kwa mlio wa honi ya basi, ishara kwamba tulikuwa tayari kuondoka. Kondakta aliwataka wachuuzi kuondoka ndani ya basi.


Daldaltonni dafan waldhibanii bahan. Tokko tokko deebi namootaf kenan. Kuuni immo daqiqaa isaa dhumaatitis gurguirf yalaan.

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.

Wachuuzi walisukumana huku wakitafuta njia ya kushuka. Wengine waliwarudishia wasafiri chenji zao. Wengine walifanya juhudi za mwisho kuuza bidhaa zao.


Akkuma atobisin bakka dhaabbate ka’ee, gara foddatin allatin ilaale. Akkam godheen gara gandaa kiyyaa deebi’aa jdheen yaadee ture.

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.

Basi lilipoondoka kituoni, nilichungulia dirishani. Nilijiuliza endapo ningerudi na kwenda kijijini kwangu tena.


Akkuma imalli ittifufen, konkolaata kessa bayee o’ee. Ejjaa koo cuffen rafuu barbaade.

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

Safari ilipoendelea, joto lilikuwa jingi ndani ya basi. Niliyafumba macho yangu nikinuia kulala.


Samuu koo garu gara maana yaada. Harmeen koo nangan turtii moo? Hiiletiin kiyya gatii baftui ta’a? Obbolessi koo iyyiba sana yadatee bishan obaasa laata?

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?

Lakini mawazo yangu yalirejea nyumbani. Je, mamangu atakuwa salama? Je, sungura wangu wataleta hela zozote? Je, ndugu yangu atakumbuka kunyunyizia maji miche ya miti yangu?


Osoon deema jiru lafa essumini koo jiru magaala sana kessati yaadadhee. Hiribaa kessatin kufatin deeema.

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.

Njiani, nilikariri jina la mahali mjomba wangu alipoishi kwenye mji mkubwa. Nilikuwa bado nafikiria wakati nilipopatwa na usingizi.


Sa’ati sagal booda, sagalee cimaa gara ganda kessani deebi’a jedhu dhagahe. Borsaa koo qabbadheen konkolaata kessa utalee bahe.

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.

Baada ya saa tisa, niliamshwa kwa kelele za kuita abiria waliokwenda katika kijiji changu. Nilichukuwa mfuko wangu mdogo na kuruka nje ya basi.


Konkolaatan gara ganda deebi’u dafee gutee. Dafee garaa bahaa qajelee. Rakkinnii cimaan kiyyaa akkam godheen mana essuma kiyya akkan itti argadhu yaadu ture.

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.

Basi la kurudi lilikuwa linajaa upesi. Muda mfupi baadaye, lingeanza safari ya kwenda mashariki. Jambo la maana kwangu wakati huo lilikuwa kuanza kutafuta nyumba ya mjomba wangu.


Written by: Lesley Koyi, Ursula Nafula
Illustrated by: Brian Wambi
Translated by: Demoze Degefa
Language: Oromo
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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