The men were afraid of the women, were dominated by them because they were afraid they would lose them. It is a very expensive business getting married there because the men have to pay a big bride price for their wives. But Bossa Sir’s mother had gone mad because her husband had taken a second wife. She had dropped one of the babies—Bossa Sir’s sister, who as a result was mad too. But this sister was kind to me, and would come upstairs and sit and talk to me. The men were very good in the family. They would never even look at my face. It was Menoor who caused me all the unhappiness. Other maids came back with lots of gifts from their mistresses. Bossa madam promised to give me many things at the end of two years. Before I left she gave me two dress materials after taking me to the shops. It was a very rare thing for them to buy my return ticket before the two years had elapsed, but I persuaded them and pleaded with them. They knew they could do nothing to keep me back.

It was not because the work was hard. They had machines for everything. But it was so lonely. Shut in, not allowed to mix with the other Sri Lankan maids. They told lies—that it was I who didn’t want to meet them. If any of the maids came there, I was sent upstairs. My letters were not given to me when they arrived. I knew this by the post marks on them. Sometimes in my loneliness I would stand at a window and listen to the voices of the workers speaking in Sinhala as they passed by on the road. One day a maid came to help at the wedding preparations of the younger son. She was from Galle. I was not allowed to talk to her for long. She retaliated by scolding her mistress under her breath: ‘Bitch! Bitch!’ I was sent upstairs and my food, too, was sent up to me. Didn’t they realize that I would have stayed back if I had been less lonely? Were they afraid that I would learn too much from the more experienced maids, make demands?