The Winter cold had passed.
Spring was coming to Nkanyezi’s village.
Soon the villagers would gather to celebrate the new season. Nkanyezi looked forward to the Spring festival more than any other day in the year.
Een warm oggend het Nkanyezi twee ou mense van die dorpie oor die fees hoor praat. “Die mense van Ndlovu het hul geesdrif vir die feesviering verloor,” het een gesug.
One warm morning, Nkanyezi overheard two village elders talking about the festival.”The people of Ndlovu have lost their spirit of celebration,” one sighed.”How can we have a Spring festival in a village that has forgotten how to celebrate?” asked another.
Nkanyezi was bekommerd. “Hoe sal die son skyn as ons nie sing om hom uit sy winterslaap wakker te maak nie?” het sy haarself gevra.
Nkanyezi was worried.”How will the sun shine again unless we sing to wake it from its winter slumber?” she asked herself.
Nkanyezi thought for a long time.”I must find what we have lost,” she decided.”I must go in search of things that will bring back the spirit of celebration to my village.”
Die oumense het Nkanyezi toestemming gegee om op reis te gaan. Hulle het vir haar ’n sak gegee vir al die goed wat sy op reis sal kry.
The elders gave Nkanyezi their blessing for the journey. They gave her a bag to carry the things she would find.
Nkanyezi was afraid, but she believed she would succeed.
Nkanyezi het heeldag geloop. Sy het ’n heuwel opgeklim, en in ’n vallei afgeklim. Sy het oor ’n rivier gevaar, en tussen skerp rotse opgeklouter. Sy het oor ’n vlakte geloop totdat sy by die skadu van die rooi berge gekom het.
Nkanyezi walked all day. She hiked up a hill, and down into a valley. She sailed across the great river, and climbed between sharp rocks. She marched across the plains until she reached the shadow of the red mountains.
Teen die aand het Nkanyezi ’n dorpie bereik. Dit was geverf met kleure en patrone wat sy nog nooit tevore gesien het nie. Sy het die dorpie se oumense vertel van haar reis om die geesdrif na haar mense toe terug te bring.
As night was closing in, Nkanyezi arrived at a village of patterns and colours as she had never seen before. She told the village elders about her journey to bring back the spirit of celebration to her people.
The mother of this tribe gave Nkanyezi a gift. She told the girl, “With love we give to you this paint to restore colour to a village that has gone dull.”
Nkanyezi thanked the elders and put the paint in her bag.
Early the next morning she went on her way, excited with this gift of colour.
Nkanyezi het die hele dag deur ’n woud van reusebome geloop. Die hemel het donker geword. Sy kon naderhand nie meer sien nie, maar toe hoor sy die klop van tromme.
Nkanyezi walked all day, through a vast forest of giant trees. As the sky became too dark for her to see, she heard the sound of beating drums. She hurried towards the drumming, feeling the spirit of dance coming to her tired feet.
Nkanyezi was nou in die dorpie Bhubezi. Die mense het om ’n vuur gesit terwyl hulle tromme speel en sing. Sy het nog nooit sulke wonderlike musiek gehoor nie.
Nkanyezi found herself in the village of the Bhubezi. People were sitting around a fire, drumming and singing. She had never before heard such wonderful music.
She told the village elders about her journey to bring back the spirit of celebration to her people. The Bhubezi invited her to rest and stay the night.
Die volgende oggend het die stamhoof vir Nkanyezi geroep. “My kind,” het hy gesê, “hier is ’n spesiale trom. Dit speel elke keer ’n nuwe lied as jy daarop slaan.”
In the morning the chief called on Nkanyezi.”My child,” he said, “here is a special drum. It plays a new song every time you beat it.”
Nkanyezi thanked the elders and put the drum in her bag. She went on her way again, delighted with this gift of music and dance.
Op die derde dag van haar reis, loop sy verby ’n paar vet koeie. ’n Wonderlike geur het haar smaakkliere gekielie, haar mond laat water en haar neus laat kriewel.
On the third day of her journey, as she a passed a field of fat cows, her nose started to tingle. An aroma tickled her taste buds and her mouth started to water. She followed the scent, and arrived in a village to find people standing over steaming pots of stew.
This tribe was famous for its feasts and Nkanyezi had never before tasted such flavours. After she had eaten her fill, she told the village elders about her journey to bring back the spirit of celebration to her people.
Die volgende oggend het die dorpie se kokke vir haar ’n geheime speserymengsel gegee. “Ons dogter,” het hulle gesê, “hierdie speserye sal tevrede magies waarborg! Ons gee vir jou die geskenk van kos.”
The next day, the council of cooks gave her a secret spice blend.”Our daughter,” they said, “with these spices, happy tummies are guaranteed! We give you the gift of good food.”
Nkanyezi thanked the elders and put the spices in her bag.
She knew she had everything she needed. With new energy she started the long journey back to the village of Ndlovu.
Toe sy daar aankom, het die mense van Ndlovu om haar saamgebondel. Hulle wou van al haar avonture hoor.
When she arrived home the villagersgathered around her to hear of heradventures. She told them the talesof what she had seen, heard, andeaten.
Then she opened her bag toshare the gifts given. The villagersrejoiced to receive these treasures.
The generosity of others and the courage of Nkanyezi brought back colour,song and dance to the people.
And so the spirit of celebration was restored to the village of Ndlovu.
