Kadia Wright, Contributor

"Oya! There she is, walking with her nose in the air like she better than anybody else. God bless my soul! If my son ever marry her, you see!"

"Sister Laura, the good Lord would not be so wicked as to grant you that heathen as a daughter-in-law."

"Ay, Margaret, I pray he won't."

"Good day, ladies. How are you doing today? Ms Laura, Jonathan mentioned to me that you're putting up new drapes. I thought I could help, if you want me to, that is."

"Uh, well, no, no, that's quite fine. I'm sure you have a lot to do. Besides, Julie, Margaret's lovely daughter who sings in the church choir, already promised to help. You don't go to church, so I doubt you know her."

"I do know Julie, actually. She's a very sweet girl. Have a good day, and if you happen to need my help, just let me know."

"That's all right, we'll do just fine."

It's like this every day, curt conversations with everyone. They all act so polite, yet as soon as your back is turned, they throw daggers at you. The children were nice - once. Then their parents told them not to talk to strangers, especially those from Jamaica.

Here because of love

The Jamaican women are always trying to steal their men. It's not my fault I fell in love with that handsome Montserratian man. My dear Jonathan. His mother, Ms Laura, is leading the clan against me. Imagine a place populated by 9,000 people and they all hate you. But frankly, I don't care. I'm here because of love, and until that love spurns me, I'll fight and I'll fight, and I'll fight.

The Bible says, "Love conquers all" (1 Corinthians 13). But who am I to be quoting the Bible? 'Heathen' is what they call me. Even the love of my life looks at me with scorn after he's visited his mother. I never could understand how a set of people who preach of love and forgiveness and understanding are always the first to hate, be unforgiving and intolerant. I believe in God, I read the Bible occasionally, I even believe I lead more of a God-fearing life than most of these 'holier-than-thou' folk. Just don't judge me because I don't do things the way you do.

When I was leaving Jamaica, everybody who meant anything to me begged me not to go. I miss them more with each passing day, but what kind of woman would I be if I ran away from love just because THEY wanted me to? I'm an idealist, so I believe that against all the odds, my Jonathan and I can make it work. Sometimes I wonder though, if love is enough.

One day, Jonathan got home earlier than I expected him to. He didn't know that I was at home. I heard their conversation while I was in the bedroom upstairs. There were three of them - Jonathan, Julie, and Ryan (Jonathan's best friend).

"She's not good for you!" I heard Ryan say. "Because of her, everyone's turning their backs on you. If you're going to head our ministry, you must stop living in this sin, and with a non-Christian no less!"

"I love her, Ryan," my Jonathan said to his best friend.

"Look here, man! You see Julie, here? She is a good, upstanding Christian woman. She is the one for you. Not that girl!"

"I've always wanted you for a husband, Jona. God knows why you've brought that girl here. She's brought so much turmoil into your life. I know your mother is not pleased," Julie beseeched him.

"You're right. My mother is very unhappy with my decision. I love her, but maybe it's not meant to be. We are too different. I'm a pastor, and she's of very little faith." I began to cry when those words left my Jonathan's lips. The insanity began at that moment.

Shocked

If his mother had taken up my offer to help her, I would not have had the time to buy the gasolene that day. Nor would I have had the time to pick up my passport and make my airline reservations. If only she had shown me an ounce of kindness.

That night, when my Jonathan came home, he brought a friend with him: the woman he was leaving me for, Julie. He told me our relationship had to end. You see, I knew him so well that I spoke every word before they left his lips. I thought to myself that I'd miss those lips. When he was done, I retrieved the bag I had packed from the closet in the hallway and told him I was leaving. He looked shocked. I knew he didn't expect me to take it so calmly. If he had run after me, apologised and begged me not to go, I would not have done it. But he let me walk out the door and then he sat in our couch and held her hands!

I was fuming, but I had a plan. I arrived in Antigua by boat the following morning, and by noon, I was on a flight to Miami. From Miami, I'd go to London, travel across Europe then visit Japan. I would return to Europe and make a life for myself there. After all, I had many friends there. None of them knew of Jonathan, and that was for the best.

I read newspapers online. On my way to Miami, I read from a Montserratian tabloid that a house had burned to the ground. It was alleged that three people had died in the fire, a man and two women, one who was Jamaican. The authorities were yet to figure out what caused the fire.