Yurra jawun karra kadarika, balkawaynka kuku bubungu. Ngananga muruku balkaynka. Hello family, come and learn language with us on Country. Let’s speak language together. Nyiku dungaynka Kaminga bubungu, jalun. Today we will go to your nannies’ favourite place, the beach. Bundaynka muruku, muyaranga jalunbu balkawaynka. We sit at the mouth of the river, where it yawns wide into the sea. The air is sweet, and the wind is loud. The waves wash in and wash out on the shore. When the waves wash in, feel the blessings they bring, and when the waves wash out feel them take away your worries. Smell the saltwater sink into your lungs and relax your body. I feel the wind gently cool my body. I don’t catch any fish, but I still collect so much, kuyulin, long shells from the mangrove fortress, and juku, for the baya, the fire. Think of the things you find at the beach, the abundance of mayi your old people give you to feast on. Mayi milka-bujar ngadimun. Minya jiba-wula-wula. Do you miss the taste? How sweet the meat is? Bayanga mayi wajul. You cook your food in the fire. See the fire that you cook your catch on, feel its smoke wash over you, warming you, hear the firewood crackle. Warra wajul bubungu ngadi-ngadiku. Wuljajiku wumbulbal kamba kamba binga binga. Its flame has flickered over your Country for thousands of years, and always warmed your Old People. Can you see them dancing in the firelight? They’re dancing for you. See the light flicker over your nanny, where you can catch her smile. Ngulkurrijin. That’s the word I learn, beautiful, it’s what I see when I look at my nanny. Yundu yalarrku? Wawurr-wawurrmanka yunu kami walu ngulkurrijin nyajinka. Do you feel the same? When you see your nanny? Ngulkurrijin. Nyulu bunjaynji. Yajarrijin-baka. Her cheeky grin and happy face. Ngananga kukuku balkawaynka. We’re speaking language together. They’re teaching me over these school holidays. They’re proud of me, and I know their wawu, their spirit is filled with wawu jirray with love when they teach me. I want you to feel the pride of your Old People, feel it wrap around you, feel their love lighten your body. Jana buyay-manin yunun. They’re so proud of you. My favourite thing I have collected today is the kuku, our language and culture. Ngana kari bubungu dungay, kukuku binal kari. We can’t go out on Country without learning. So, they tell me about the kuyu, what their favourite is, when to catch it and how to cook it. They teach me about medicines in the trees around us. Wandi nyajin jiringa, nganjinanda kanjal. Watch the sea eagle in the sky, see him fly above us and keep us company. Suddenly I feel like the jukar, soaking in their kuku like the sand soaks in the saltwater that washes over it. They connect me to country, to my language, to my Old People, ngayku kami, my nannies. Ngananga Ngujakuramun, they teach me. Jana binalman karrkaymunku. They’ve been learning since they were my age. My nannies have taught me that birra means leaf, but it also is our lungs. As I watch the trees and see their leaves moving, I can see them taking big deep breaths. It reminds me to breathe. Wawu yalbayku yungun. Take a deep breath in, and out. Wawu yalbayku yungun. Take a deep breath in, and out. Feel your birra expand in your dumu your chest. After we’ve cooked our mayi on the fire. We have feasted on fish, and shellfish. Nganjin yanjida bajaku. We’re finally full. With my belly full I start to feel sleepy. Wujurrbuda. It’s nightime now. The wungar the sun has set and the kija the moon glowing in the sky tells me it’s time to sleep. I know the moon and my Ancestors will watch over me and my nannies as we go to sleep. Ngayu wawu ngulkurrkumalda. Ngayu wumbul. I feel safe and warm. I know where I belong, to ngayku bubu my country and ngayku jawun karra my people. Culture and language connect us. Connects me to my people, connects my people to our country. Country will cradle me as I sleep tonight. Yundu bijarril yunundu bubungu. And when you dream tonight, it will be in the language of your Country. Yundu warrngku-wunay yunu bijarril kamba kamba binga binga milka-janaynka. It’s okay to talk in your sleep, your Old People will hear your dreams.