Fasiri Fasara Fasaha

Bustani Iliyozingirwa kwa Ukuta
1
Tuanze na mtoto wa kiume. Jina lake lilikuwa Yusuf, na aliondoka
kwao ghafla alipokuwa na umri wa miaka kumi na mbili. Alikum
buka ilikuwa msimu wa ukame, wakati siku ziliposhabihiana na
kufuatana mfululizo moja baada ya pili. Maua ambayo hayakutege
mewa yalichanua na kupoteza uhai. Wadudu wa ajabu walitambaa
kutoka chini ya mawe na kujikuta wakifurukuta kwa kutapatapa
kabla ya kufa kutokana na mianzi ya jua iliyowaunguza na kuwa
chomelea mbali. Jua lilifanya miti iliyokuwa huko ukingoni isisimke
hewani na pia lilifanya nyumba zitetemeke huku zikishusha pumzi.
Mawingu ya vumbi yalipwita kila nyayo ilipogusa ardhi na utulivu
madhubuti kabisa ulitanda wakati wa mchana. Ilitokea kwamba
nyakati kama hizi zilikuwa zimerudi tena msimuni.
Palitokea siku hiyo ambapo aliwaona Wazungu wawili katika
jukwaa la reli, kamwe hakuwahi kuwaona. Hakuogopa, hasa
pale mwanzoni. Alizoea kwenda kwenye stesheni na kutizama
gari moshi zilivyoingia kwa kelele na madaha, na alizisubiri hadi
pale zilipojinyanyua na kuendelea na safari, zikifuata mipang
ilio maalumu ya kandawala Mhindi aliyeukunja uso huku akitoa
ishara kwa kibendera na filimbi yake. Mara nyingi Yusuf alisubiri
muda mrefu hadi gari moshi ilipowasili. Wale wazungu wawili
walikuwa wakisubiri huku wakiwa wamesimama chini ya turubali
na mizigo yao pamoja na bidhaa zilizoonekana kuwa muhimu
zilipangwa katika rundo nadhifu, futi chache kutoka walipokuwa.

THE W ALLED GARDEN

1
The boy first. His name was Yusuf, and he left his home
suddenly during his twelfth year. He remembered it was the
season of drought, when every day was the same as the last.
Unexpected flowers bloomed and died. Strange insects scuttled
from under rocks and writhed to their deaths in the burning
light. The sun made distant trees tremble in the air and made
the houses shudder and heave for breath. Clouds of dust
puffed up at every tramping footfall and a hard-edged stillness
lay over the daylight hours. Precise moments like that came
back of the season.
He saw two Europeans on the railway platform at that
time, the first he had ever seen. He was not frightened, not at
first. He went to the station often, to watch the trains come
noisily and gracefully in, and then to wait for them to haul
themselves out again, marshalled by the scowling Indian
signalman with his pennants and whistle. Often Yusuf waited
hours for a train to arrive. The two Europeans were also
waiting, standing under a canvas awning with their luggage
and important-looking goods neatly piled a few feet away.