From bus songs to birdsong: Read these short stories today
From bus songs to bird nests, these playful tales prove adventures are sweeter when shared aloud! Read these two short stories for your little ones in celebration of World Read Aloud Day on 4 February!
Aluwani’s Thursday adventure
On her first Adventure Thursday, new kid on the block Aluwani learnt that no matter where she goes, she always wants to go back home to her parents.
There’s nothing quite like moving to a new school, in a new province where people speak a different language to yours.
As far as 10-year-old Aluwani knew, her whole life was over. She had left her best friends in the whole wide world, her school and even her neighbour’s dog Spotie, which she thought of as her own. She hated everything about the new school: the uniform, the tiny classrooms and the teachers, who insisted on introducing her as the “new student” in every class.
Her family had moved because her parents’ got new jobs in the big city, but Aluwani didn’t understand why she had to go with them. Why couldn’t they just leave her with the neighbours so she could keep going to her favourite school, see her friends every day and play with Spotie?
On this morning, Aluwani had been at the new school for four days. She’d already gone through her list of complaints with her mom on the walk to the school. She settled in for another day of not making friends, determined not to betray her old friends by making new ones.
But today, something was different. There was a sprinkle of excitement in the air as the kids whispered about Adventure Thursday. Seated next to Avethandwa on the desk, Aluwani couldn’t contain her curiosity and asked: “What’s Adventure Thursday?”.
“On the first Thursday of every month, we get on a bus at 10am and visit different schools outside of the district. Last month, we went to an art school and I made a friendship bracelet. See?” Ave said enthusiastically. “We don’t know where we’re going today, but the fun part is always the bus ride. Come, you can sit next to me on the bus!”
Ave dragged Aluwani along and they lined up with the rest of their classmates. One by one the kids got on the bus and after the teacher counted them all three times, they set off on the road. And the singing started.
“Masambeee. Yiwise driver, sizophuma etivini,” the kids chanted, using the seats in front of them as drums and some laughing hysterically.
“What is this song? What are they saying?” Aluwani asked Ave.
“They are telling the driver to drive faster so the bus can crash so they can appear on TV, in the news,” Ave said with a smile, also singing and swaying along with the rhythm of the song.
“WHAT?”
“We sing it every Thursday, but we never crash. If we crash, we’ll be famous,” Ave said.
“No, I don’t want to be famous. I want to get off this bus. I want to go home. I want to see my mom and dad,” Aluwani said, her eyes wide. She started to panic.
Ave laughed and tried to make her feel better, but Aluwani wasn’t convinced. The bus started to go a little faster as they got onto the freeway and to Aluwani, it looked like it was going a little too fast.
”See? The bus driver always listens and starts pushing it, driving faster and faster the louder we sing. It’s fun.” But to Aluwani, it didn’t sound fine. She slowly walked up to the teacher, holding on for dear life.
“Miss Njongo, why are they telling the driver to crash? Why is he driving fast? I want to go home. I don’t want to be in the news. I want to see my parents,” Aluwani said.
The teacher realised that she didn’t understand that it was just part of igwijo, a cultural song that learners sang for fun.
“You are not going to be in the news. The driver is driving within the speed limit and I promise we’ll get there soon. They are just joking. They also don’t want to be in the news, I promise you! They just love it when we are on a freeway because they don’t get to drive out all the time, so it’s an adventure. Breathe. It’s okay, you can choose the song for the next Thursday Adventure,” Miss Jongo said.
Aluwani sat down next to Ave again and tried to relax. The bus slowed down again when they reached their destination, and she breathed a sigh of relief. They spent the day learning how to work with wood and journeyed back to their school, just in time for the bell.
When her mom arrived at school to pick her up, Aluwani ran up to her and started telling her about the day.
“Mom, let’s go home. I can’t wait to tell you about my day. Do you know the song ‘yiwise driver?’”
“No, tell me about it,” her mom said. Aluwani told her all about the song, the visit to the school and her fear of not coming home if the bus crashes. She also told her about Avethandwa and the teacher’s promise.
“So it sounds to me like you made new friends, went on an adventure and are now starting to settle into your new home?” her mom asked.
”Maybe,” Aluwani said, remembering her promise not to make new friends. “But I’ll always love our old home. Maybe this can be home, too. We’ll see. Let’s practice a new song for next week so I can teach it to my new friends.”
It took that one trip to make Aluwani realise that for her, home is wherever her parents are — and having new friends like Ave, who sing with you and have your back, just makes it even sweeter.
Words: Thulani Gqirana
Illustration: Cameron Scott Adams
Birds of a feather
One winter, something eggs-hilirating happens in a Johannesburg park that will change the lives of its birds, big and small, forever.
High above the stinkwood trees, tucked into the cliff edge, was a nest. Huge sticks and a patchwork of green leaves kept one speckled, creamy white egg warm from the icy breeze. The eagle parents were away for the day, hunting dassies for supper. The sky was clear, no thunderclouds in sight, but the breeze was getting stronger and stronger.
The nest started to lift. It settled back down. It lifted again, and the egg rolled to the very edge. One mighty gust suddenly pushed against the nest and it flipped, shooting the egg through the air.
The egg went tumbling down into the thick forest below…
“Well, at least we don’t have to find supper for four anymore, Vera,” said Aloe. “I wish we still had to, though… it just hasn’t been the same since Gardenia and Jasmine flew the nest,” sighed Vera.
Aloe and Vera were proud Cape wagtail parents. Just one week without their nestlings was hard for them — what would they spend their days doing now? They swam in the waterfall, Iily pad hopped in the pond and did a tour of the flowering aloe garden, but they still missed their chicks, who were now all grown up. When they arrived at their nest, it wasn’t looking so empty anymore. Like a boiled egg in a cup, there was an enormous, speckled, creamy white egg snuggled into their tiny nest. It only just fitted inside!
“Tseep, tseep, tseeeeeep! Emergency, Vera, emergency! Hide for your life!” cheeped Aloe, just before ducking down into the long grass below their nesting stinkwood tree.
“Oh, calm down, Aloe! It’s just an egg. A little on the big side, but still just a lonely egg,” said Vera, hopping closer to have a better look. “What if it’s not friendly, whatever’s going to hatch out of there? What if it… eats us?” shrieked Aloe, his tail wagging faster and faster and faster.
Just then, they heard a crack. And then a knock, knock, knocking. Then a creak and then a pop. A piece of eggshell shot off and flew through air, landing right on Aloe’s head. He peeped out from behind the tree trunk just in time to see Vera pull off a piece of eggshell with her beak.
Through the hole peered an eye, dark brown and surrounded by white fluff. Aloe and Vera looked at one another. They hadn’t expected a visitor to fall out of the sky, today or ever. But here they were, two wagtails really good at looking after eggs and staring at the biggest one they’d ever seen. Its parents were nowhere in sight. Maybe it was meant to be? They shrugged, accepted their fate and fluttered off to find their strange guest some miggies for supper…
Three whole years flew by. Aloe and Vera taught the baby bird how to walk on lily pads without sinking, wag its tail just like them and catch flies, mosquitoes, caterpillars, moths, butterflies, beetles, termites, ants and dragonflies. Even with so much food to choose from, the baby bird was always so hungry. Maybe it’s because she was about five times bigger than the wagtails, but nothing seemed to fill her up! So, they called her Peckish.
One day, Peckish was visiting the aloes growing on the cliff high above the waterfall. Those aloes always had the best tasting beetles on them! High above her, in the clear blue sky, she could see a huge black bird circling around. It looked like it was dancing around the sun. She quite liked hopping, darting and wagging, but sometimes Peckish wanted to spread her big wings and see how high she could fly. She’s not really allowed past the treetops, only here to the cliff aloes. Sighing, she turned her back to the twirling bird.
The next thing she knew, there was a whoosh and the aloes shook their red flowers. A glossy black bird was sitting on the cliff edge beside her, a crisp “V” of white feathers decorating its back. It stared at her with big brown eyes, and before Peckish could ask anything at all, Aloe and Vera arrived on the scene.
“Tseep, tseep, tseeeeeep! That bird looks just like you! Where did it even come from? Look at those talons!” gasped Aloe, with Vera hopping and nodding and chirping with worry next to him.
“I live up on these cliffs, high above where the other birds live. I hardly ever go below the treetops. I was riding the hot air above you and saw the white ‘V’ on your back. Tell me, how long have you been living here?” asked the eagle, turning to Peckish.
Well, Peckish had always known she wasn’t really a wagtail. But who was this old bird, asking personal questions without introducing herself? She kept her beak shut, waiting to see what would happen next.
“Well, let me start by telling you about myself then. My name is Verreux and I’m a Black Eagle. I’ve been living here on the cliff next to the waterfall for more than 20 years. This is where I’ve raised all my chicks, who also raised their own chicks not too far from here. But, there was one egg that went missing a few years ago… I’ve never forgotten it,” said the old eagle, her voice getting quiet.
“Could it have… fallen out of the sky? Maybe into another bird’s nest? Could that nest… have been ours?” asked Vera, looking with very wide eyes from Aloe to Peckish to Verreux. Her tail was wagging at hyper speed.
“Of course, it must be so! Welcome to the family, you old bird!” shouted Aloe as he threw his tiny wings around the eagle’s neck. Peckish joined in, feeling all kinds of things as she realised this might actually be her granny. Her eagle parents might not be that far away either…
”Thank you,” said Verreux. “I’ve been missing my chicks since they all grew up and flew the nest. I’d certainly welcome you to my nest. I’ll just have to clear some of the dassie fur first, and maybe get rid of some bones, but…”
“Ah, never mind that,” said Vera. “We’re birds of a feather. We may be different, but we can always flock together.”
Words: Christi Nortier
Illustrattion: Freepik, Vecteezy
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