Fruit Trees

I was out for a walk this morning, when I came upon a man in my street picking berries. I should preface this with the story that, a few years ago, residents in our street decided to plant fruit trees in the long centre island of the road. They didn't just want decorative rubbish, they said. But all but one or two of the fruit trees died: apples, apricots, and so on. I asked the man, "What do you call these berries?" He said, "In Xhosa, we call them wanye." He gave me one to eat. OBSERVATION: So, our street was already full of fruit trees. When I described the fruit to wife E, she said, Of course, we know that berry.