“I WAIT fuh you to come back,” the young girl said softly, quiet sadness in her eyes as she sat in the dimly lit room. She combed her long, dark hair slowly, watching the steady flame of the candle that illuminated the hopes in her heart. “So I will wait,” she said quietly, “because I have nobody else.”

She had been orphaned from a young age after the tragic death of her mother, with no father in the picture. A dark-brown-skinned, thin little girl, she was unwanted by her family and shuffled from home to home. She grew up without special love or care, treated more like a servant than a child. Though she cried inside, she held onto the belief that one day, life might smile upon her.
The day she met Suraj while working at her aunt’s vegetable stall in the market, she felt a glimmer of joy. He was good-looking and friendly and had complimented her on her sapodilla-brown skin and bright brown eyes.

For the first time, she experienced something kind in her life. The following Saturday, he told her aunt, “You have a real pretty gyal here.”
“Yuh want tuh marry she?” her aunt had asked jokingly.
“No, no,” Suraj had replied hurriedly, “Nah ready fuh that.”

The market was quiet during the week, so her aunt kept her at home to do all the household chores. She saw Suraj only once a week on Saturdays, but those moments brought her joy. She was a poor girl, an orphan without a real home or family, so she never had high expectations in life—just hopes.
Sometimes, though, the unexpected happens.

A year after she first met Suraj, he came to her aunt’s house one Sunday and asked to marry her. The proposal stunned her—she could hardly believe something so wonderful was happening to her.

Her wedding day was the most special day of her life. She felt like a princess after years of living among the broken pieces of her past. At last, she could smile from the song in her heart.
But the glitz of happiness soon faded. Though Suraj was kind, he spent long hours away from home. He was a businessman, but his electronics store was right there in the market, so she did not understand why he was always gone. At first, she let it go.

Months passed, and loneliness began to weigh on her. He did not include her in his daily life or business, nor did he take her anywhere, making her feel unwanted.
“Why he marry then?” she asked herself silently.
One day, during a visit to her aunt, she learned the shocking truth—Suraj preferred the company of men. He had been living a double life. As his wife, she was merely a front for society, someone to take care of his home and his ageing mother.

The revelation crushed her. She pleaded in silent prayers, “No, dear Lord, doh lemme lose the one good thing I got in life.”
Then, in March of the following year, Suraj came home early one evening with unexpected news.
“Ah get through with a visa for America.”
She felt no joy at the announcement. A fearful thought crossed her mind.

“Yuh leaving… yuh leaving me?” she asked hesitantly.
“No, no, stupid gyal,” he laughed. “Is fuh business, I gon come back.”
Her heart felt heavy that day when he left. As he stepped out the door, she told him, “I will light a candle waiting for yuh.”
He laughed, gave her a hug, and said, “Stay good.”

She stood at the gate, watching until the car turned onto the highway and disappeared from view. She sighed deeply, feeling despondent. Once again, she was alone.
Months passed. He neither called nor sent money regularly. She began to wonder if his business trip had been a lie. Left alone, she now had to take care of his mother without his support.
“Why this happening to me?” she lamented. “Why fate treating me so bad?”

But she knew she couldn’t give up. She had to stay strong, as she had always done. She considered finding a job, but when she spoke to Suraj’s brother about it, his response was sharp.
“So, who will look after Ma?”
“Maybe you can tek her at yuh home during the day.”
“No, I don’t have de time.”
“Any other brotha or sista can help wid her?”

“No,” he answered bluntly, without a trace of care. “Is Suraj responsibility because she willed the house to he, and since you are his wife, she’s you responsibility.”
Tina stared at him, disbelieving his lack of concern for his own mother.
Now, she felt trapped—she needed to earn money but could not leave the old woman alone. None of her children were willing to help care for her because they had no stake in the property.
“I lost my motha very young,” Tina lamented, “and her love and care, but yet who got theirs cyan care fuh her.”

That night, she barely slept, her mind weighed down by worry. By morning, she decided to inspect the small vegetable garden at the side of the house. It had been neglected, but with her experience in wholesale and retail, she saw an opportunity. If she replanted the garden, she could sell the produce in the market without leaving the old woman alone for long hours.
Soon, she was reaping the rewards of her labour, wholesaling her crops early in the morning. The extra money helped, and Mother Laila was grateful.
“You are a good girl,” the old woman told her one evening. “Don’t know why mi son couldn’t ah stay.”

Tina didn’t know what to say. The old lady continued, “Ah become a burden to mi own children, but God send you to me.”
Tears filled the elderly woman’s eyes, and Tina, overcome with emotion, touched her hand gently.
“I lost my motha at a very young age, so ah happy to do what I can fuh yuh.”
Yet, every night, she still lit the candle, hoping and praying that Suraj would return.

Two years passed. One month when the usual money transfer didn’t arrive, Suraj’s brother came by with an envelope.
“It’s from Suraj,” he said.
Tina took the letter, her heart pounding. That night, after lighting her candle, she opened it.
Suraj thanked her for being a good wife, for her hard work, and for taking care of his mother. But he was sorry to say he would not be coming back. He had found someone else to share his life with, and she was free to move on.

Enclosed was a photograph of him and the one he had chosen—another man.
The letter and photo slipped from her hands onto the floor. She sat there, numb. She couldn’t even cry. The ache in her heart was too deep.
“Two years I wait for you,” she whispered, “two years I light a candle, waiting. Why you do this to me? Yuh didn’t really love me. Yuh used me, just like everybody else.”
She picked up the photo, held it over the flame, and let it burn. As the ashes fell to the floor, she blew out the candle.

To be continued…