Acoli
“Ikelo gi?” Apenyo Ismail kumeno ikare ma wabedo ka time calo watye ka goyo cal kun lapwony wa ma pwonyo goyo cal onongo tye ka neno ngo ma lutino kwan tye ka timo. En obedo ka cike bot wa pi ‘’kelo jami mung’ pi kare malac dong, ento inino ducu en waco ni wiye owil kwede gang. Ento en tin dong omoko ni okelo.
“Abi nyutu bot wu icawa me yweyo’’En owaco kit meno
Ikare ma olang okok pi nyutu cawa me yweyo, wa ngweco ki yom cwiny madit tutwal me dok tung inge gedo me odi kwan pa puraimari acel. Awobe mapol olubo kor wa kunu bene. Wa neno ki miti ma dwong tutwal kit ma Ismail obedo ka woto kwede jami mapol ma obedo calo lawala ma kiboyo komgi ki pok gin ma obedo calo del. En omiina acel.
“Ento Ismail”, Aloko ki cwer cwiny,’’Egi ni pe obedo baluun.”
“Eyo, gin kikome”, en ogamo kit meno.’’Abi nyuti.”
En okwanyo acel ki ikin gi cii oyeco poke ma kiboyo kwede ni ka ogonyo maber. Ka ocako kutu yamo idoge ma lac-ce rom ki cilling 10 ma nyige. Odeng odok ical pa labolo.
“Eh, eh”, Taban okok kit meno, “Kit baluun ango eni? Manaka pwud pe aneno gin enoni.”
“Kitiyo kwed gi iot yat”, Ismail otito. “Watye ki bokci mapol ataa igang wa; Baba na kelo gi ki iot yat.”
“Ento kitiyo kwed gi me timo ngo?”, Taban omede ki penyo ne, kun pwud ki twon akala kala ma en tye kwede ikom baluun enoni.
Ismail ongwinyo wiye pi yenyo lagam. I agiki ne, en owaco.
“Pe angeyo. Atamo kimiyo gi bot jo ma komgi lit.”
“Angeyo ngo ma kitimo kwed gi”, Michael ogamo, kun obedo ka nyero ikare ma obedo ka ruku baluun acel i lanyig cinge ma idyere ni. “Kimiyo gi bot jo ma lanyig cing gi okwot.”
“Ku,Ku”, Richard owaco, “Aneno gi ikare ma acito iot yat wani Mama na. Kipoko gi macalo mic bot lutino ma pe kok. Nac omiyo ki Mama na gin 3 pien pe akok ikare ma ki tuc-ca.”
“In lagoba ni , In I kok”, Omin-ne John ogamo kitmeno ikare ma odonyo ilok gi.’’Nac omiyo ki Mama baluun wek igik koko’’ Wa mwoc ki nyero.
Richard ocako koko cii ongweco kun Waco ni abidoto wu bot ladit Omondi’.
Cut cut cal pa ladit Omondi ma bor-ri otuc, ki Richard bene ingeye. Wange ma opong ki yer tik obedo ka ryeny ki kwok iwang ceng me odiko ni; Lawala ma dyak onongo dong ocake lwore ite ywete.Wa time calo onongo watye idye tuku ‘gweng piligol’ wa.
“Anga ikin wu ma obedo ka weko Richard kok?” En openyo ki dwon ma longo calo tye ka aa ki i wipolo.
Ki ingeye Richard oloko ki dwon ma yenge. ‘’ obedo John’’, En ogamo kun cimo kwede omin-ne.
Ka in Ismail, Kit gin ango ma atye ka winyo ne ikomi ni itye ka poko lakodi baluun moni mapat-ti?”, Lapeny lok ma bor-ri omede .
“Wan pe wabedo ka timo gin mo”, Ismail okwero, kun time calo en pe ngeyo kit gin mo.
Ladit Omondi ongiye ki wang me akala kala.
“Bin kweda”, En owaco kun mako cing Ismail. “In bene John.”
Kimiyo joo aryo ni me wot kun gi pyee calo ogwal, ka Richard obedo ka lubo kor gi.
An abedo cok ki Ismail. En obino ka lima iceng abicel, dok obino ki lakodi baluun enoni mapol. Ikare ma wabedo ka kutu gi, en otito kit ma ladit Omondi omayo kwede baluun mukene. En obedo ka poro dwon ma longo pa ladit Omondi calo pa twon gwok ma ger kiti:
“Latin awobi eni kodi gin ango ni? Eh, eh? Egi ni pe obedo baluun. Pe omyero ibed ka kutu gi, girac tutwal. Miya kany. Abitero gi bot Headmaster.”
Kakany, En oporo wot pa ladit Omondi ma ruune oyot -ti. Abedo ka nyero kun apenye – “Headmaster dong otimo ngo?”
“En pe ocito bot headmaster. En ocito igwic ot cii oketo gi ijeba ne. Anene maber.”
Wa donyo inyamo lok ikom kit ma lupwonye gubedo lukwo kwede. Wiya opoo ikom kit ma yam Min ot pa Mubiru kwanyo kwede cak-ka kun ceto keto i kikopo kawa ne, ka wii Ismail opoo ikom kare moni ma okwanyo toyi mutoka ne cii pe odwoko matwal. Inge kutu baluun mapol, wacako tuku kwed gi ki lwak woo ma longo ki yom cwiny kun wabedo ka bayo gi iyamo ka wa gweyo baluun ma obedo calo labolo ni iyamo, kun waneno kit ma gi lenge malo naka wa idan ot ma pwud peya gudwogo piny icing ki tyen wa ma tye ka kuru gi. Obedo iwang cawa eni aye omera madit, Edward, odonyo kwede iot.
“Juk wunu lakodi woo wu ni!”, En oredo, “Atye ka temo kwan-cit wunu ka tuku woko.”
“Ento baluun wa obi mwoc ka watero gi woko”, Akwero kit meno.
“Kit baluun ango ni?”En okwanyo baluun acel ki ikin matye idye ot-ti. Inge ngiiyo ne manok en owaco ni, wun lubaba ni, eni pe obedo baluun.”
“En kikome, Agamo.
“Ku, pe en. Gubedo…Kitiyo kwed gi me…me……”
“Kitiyo kwed gi me timo gin ango ni?” Wa penye, ki miti me niang.
“Kitiyo kwed gi me temo jami”, En owaco. “Inongo gi ki kwene?”
“Ismail aye okelo gi. Gin gitye ki bokci gi mapol igang gi.”
Omera dong oloke bot Ismail.
“Itwero kel-la mukene? Lapwony wa owaco ni omyero wa ter mukene igang kwan pi temo timo jami mogo igang kwan.”
“Kit temo timo jami ango ni?”,Apenye ki tam wiya ma onywene.
“Obedo…Obedo…Pe i par. Ibi niang ka dong idonyo ikwan me senior.”
En openyo Ismail ni okele ‘’lakodi jami egi ni mapol’’Ismail ocike me kelo bote baluun mapol cii oweko wamede ki tuku wa.
Ikare ma Ismail ocako kelo ki omera baluun ni, en ogiko daa pi woo wa dok ikare mukene en konyo wa bene ki kutu gi, ento ka lareme Susan obino ka lim-me, en daa cii ryemo wa ka tuku woko. En Waco ni gin mito kwan, ento wan onongo wa neno gi ki iwang ot kit ma nongo gumako cing gi dok dog –gi nongo tye kacel.
Iceng abicel moo acel, Ismail onongo pe obino ka tuku pien kome obedo lit. Omera oyee me konya ki timo tic ma kimiya ki igang kwan. En obedo ka temo bitta me yee ni wilobo olunge calo lawala, calo wai onongo pe atwero neno ni wilobo opyele. En owaco ni en opwonyo gin enoni ikare ma gubedo ka kwano Geography, dok ni en obi nyutu ni obedo kumeno adaa. Ento lareme Susan obino cii en oryema’ oo – “Cit ka tuku woko”, En owaco kit meno.
“Ento onongo icike ni ibi pwonya, Icike bota!”,Acako koko malongo. “Ka Mama gini Baba gudwogo cii abidoti’ oo’’.
“Cit cen”, En okwilo, “Wek yelo wa”. Adan-nge ki koko ma longo ikare ma obedo ka coora me kato woko – “Abi doti ni obedo wunu ka mako ….kii….kii…”
“Aya, Aya”,En oweka, “Cit ikel buk-ki wek akwan-ni ododo.En obwunyu ka ogoyo wiya ki mwolo.
Adunyu pig wanga cii agweyo ngwec ki yom cwiny ka kelo buk ododo ki iot butu na. Ikare ma adwogo cen iot namo anongo en gini Susan weng dong gucito .
Ayenyo gi iot ka ducu, ento pe anongo gi. I agiki ne, atemo dogola ot butu ne cii anongo ki pungu. Alwongo nyinge, ento pe anongo lagam. Onongo dong acok aa cii awinyo dwon moni iot kunu. Aketo ita ikom dogola cii awinyo dwon nyero laling ling. Abedo ki miti iye, cii agulu wanga ibur layab dogola. Omera onongo tye ka ruko baluun acel pa Ismail ni i cune.
English
“Did you bring them”, I asked Ismail as we sat supposedly doing a drawing of the building which the teacher had asked us to draw. He had been promising to bring ‘secret things for a while now, but each day claimed to have forgotten then at home. Today, however, the answer was affirmitive. “I’ll show you at break”, he said.
Then the bell rang for break we exoitedly run to the back of the building housing the Primary One classes. Several boys joined us. We watched with great curiosity as Ismail removed from his bag several circular items encased in plastic wrapping. He handed me one.
“But Ismail”, I said disappointed, “these are not balloons”.
“Yes they are”, replied Ismail, “I’ll show you”.
Taking one of the items he tore off the wrapping and unrolled it. He then began to blow in through a mouthpiece the size of a 10 shilling coin. It expanded in the form of a banana. “Eh,eh”, cried Taban, “What sort of balloon is this? I’ve never seen it before”.
“They use then at the hospital”, explained Ismail.”We’ve got boxes at home, my father brings them from the hospital”.
“But what do they use them for?” Taban continued in his interrogation, still sceptical about this new balloon.
Ismail scratched his head in search of an answer. He could not find one.
“I don’t know. I think they give them to people who are sick”.
“I know what they are used for”, cried Michael, laughing as he unrolled one of the balloons onto his middle finger, “they give them to people with swollen fingers”.
“No, no”, said Richard, “I saw them when I went to the hospital with my mother. They give them out as presents to children who don’t cry. The nurse gave my mother three because I didn’t cry when I had an injection”.
“You liar, you did cry”, broke in his brother John. “The nurse gave mummy the balloons to make you stop crying”. We burst out in laughter.
“No, I didn’t”, retorted Richard pouting.
“Yes, you did”, insisted his brother.
“No, I didn’t”.
“Yes you did, you did..
Richard began to cry and run away saying he was going to ‘tell on us to Mr Omondi’.
Soon the towering figure of Mr Omondi appeared, with Richard trailing in his wake.
His bearded face glistened with sweat in the morning sunlight; a dump ring was already formed round his armpits. Several huge strides brought him to our group which was now engaged in an innocent game of ‘marbles’.
“Which one of you has been making Richard cry?” He asked in a booming voice which seemed to descend from the heavens.
From behind him Richard spoke in a muted, quavering voice. “It was John”, he said pointing at his brother.
“And Ismail, what is this I hear about you distributing strange balloons?” Continued our towering interrogator.
“We haven’t been doing anything”, Ismail protested, putting on as innocent a face an he could muster.
Mr Omondi surveyed his with a sceptical eye.
“Come with me”, he said taking hold of Ismail’s hand. “You too John”. The two were then frog marched away, Richard following behind them.
I live close to Ismail so we often exchanged visits. On the saturday he paid me a visit, bringing along more of those balloons. As we blew them up he recounted, yet again, the story of how Mr Omondi had confisticated the other balloons. Scowling his face in the bull dog like manner of Mr Omondi, he attempted to imitate the booming voices
“Little boy what is this? Eh, eh? These are not balloons. You shouldn’t blow them, it’s dangerous. Give them to me and I’ll take them to the headmaster”.
Here he aped Mr Omondi’s loping walk. Laughing, I asked “What did the headmaster do?”
“He didn’t go to the headmaster. He went round the corner and put then in his pocket. I saw him”.
We fell into a discussion of how teachers were thieves. I recalled the time when Mrs Mubiru used to take some of my milk to put in her coffee and Ismail said he could remember the time when she took his toy car and never gave it back. Having blown u a sufficient number of balloons we began to play with them. With much screaming an shouting we tossed and kicked the banana like balloons up into the air, watching as they hung close to the ceiling before descending back to waiting hands and feet.
It was at this moment that my older brother, Edward, walked into the room.
“Stop making that noise”, he shouted, “I am trying to study”.
He was always like that, complaining that I and my friends made too much noise.
“Go outside and play”.
“But our balloons will burst if we take them outside”, I protested.
“What balloons?” He picked up one of the balloons from the floor. After examining it a moment he declared, “you fools, this is not a balloon”.
“Yes it is”, I replied.
“No it’s not. They’re…they’re used for…for…”
“What do they use them for?” We asked, eager to find out.
“They’re used for experiments”, he said, “Where did you get them from?”
“Ismail brought then. They’ve got boxes at home”.
My brother now turned to Ismail.
“Could you bring me some? My teacher said we should take some for the experiments at school”.
“What is an experiment’?” I asked bewildered at this term which he kept repeating.
“It’s… It’s…don’t worry you will find out when you reach secondary school”. He continued addressing Ismail.
“Ismail can you bring me some of these things’?”
Ismail promised to bring him some balloons and with that my brother left us to continue our game.
When Ismail started bringing my brother the balloons he stopped complaining the noise we made and sometimes helped us blow them up. When his friend Susan was visiting, however, he would complain and send us to play outside. He said they had some work to do, but we could see them through the window holding and touching lips. The skirts Susan wore were so short, we could often see her nickers flashing as she opened and shut her legs in the seat. Ismail said he had seen her nickers ten times, I made mine a count of thirteen. When she walked in her high shoes her huge bottom left, right left, right. Ismail and I tried to imitate the pendulum neither of us could manage to do it successfully as our bottoms were not so big.
One Saturday Ismail could not come to play because he was ill. My brother, seeing as he had nothing to do, offered to help me with the sums. I found ithe noise we made and sometimes helped us blow them up. When his frien visiting, however, he would complain and send us to play outside. He na work to do, but we could see them through the window holding and touch skirts Susan wore were so short, we could often see her nickendshe her legs in the seat. Ismail said he had seen her nickers ten timen, count of thirteen. When she walked in her high shoes her huge bottom left, right left, right. Ismail and I tried to imitate the pendulum neither of us could manage to do it successfully as our bottoms were
One Saturday Ismail could not come to play because he was ill. M as he had nothing to do, offered to help me with the sums. I found it difficult to do the timetable so we worked through that in the morning. After two hours work my brother said he was feeling tired and that he would go and lie down. He promised to teach me about the world in the afternoon. He was t me that the world was round, as if I could not see that it was flat. He said that he had learned in his Geography lesson and he was going to prove it to me in the afternoon.
His friend Susan came in the afternoon however and he refused to teach me.
“Go outside and play”, he said.
“But you promised to teach me, you promised.” I began to wail loudly. “When Mummy and Daddy come back home I’m going to tell on you”, I cried.
“Go away”, he insisted, “stop disturbing us”. The more he tried to push me out of the room, the louder I wailed. “I’m going to tell how you were holding…and…and…
“Okay, Okay, go and get a story book and I’ll read you a story”, he said smiling and patting me on the head.
I wiped the tears from my eyes as I run excitedly to get a newly from my room. But when I returned to the sitting room both he and Susan were gone.
“Edward”, I called out, “Edward”.
I searched the house without any success. Trying the door to his room I found it was locked. I again called out my brother’s name, but received no answer. I was about to run and check if they were sitting on the lawn outside, as they sometimes did when my attention was arrested by a noise coming from inside the room. I leaned my ear to the door and heard a muffled giggle. Curious to see what was happening, I peered in through the keyhole my brother stood unrolling one of Ismail’s balloons onto his penis.
Leave a Reply