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EP: That must be a difficult change for you?

LM: Well, yes. My father was very angry, of course. But Kaavi taught me that my freedom was more important. Even though I’m struggling now to make ends meet—it is quite expensive, you know, paying boarding fees and living on your own—it’s still worth it to me.

EP: One of your colleagues mentioned you confided in her that you were rather bitter toward Miss Fonseka after you first left your family. Is there some truth to this?

LM: [Pause] Who told you this? Was it Danushka?

EP: I am not at liberty to say right now, Miss Malalasekara, but would appreciate it if you could answer the question.

LM: Look, I didn’t mean it. I was angry at the time, that’s all. I truly am grateful for everything that Kaavi has done for me. If it wasn’t for her I’d have been forced into some arranged marriage and stuck with babies by now. All I said to Danushka was that it was easier for Kaavi to talk about independence and push me to leave my family because she had such a comfortable life. Anyone can be independent if they have enough money in the bank. If they are from upper-class Colombo with plenty of connections and a foreign university degree. I’m not being bitter, I promise. I just think it’s not fair that she’s had it so much easier than everyone else.





10


AMAYA


Four Days before the Wedding


I HELD IT together until I got home. The last thing I wanted was to get interrupted while I was watching it.

I made it to my room with only the most cursory of greetings to Seetha, who always insisted on waiting up for me when I went out, cranked the air conditioner on as high as it would go, kicked off my shoes, peeled off my dress, and sat on my bed to watch the video.

It was shot decently—clearly, Kaavi’s colleague whose name I’d already forgotten had used a tripod or something, because there was no handheld shake, and it was zoomed in on the podium in the middle of a stage.

A middle-aged woman dressed in a sari with her hair in a schoolteacher bun took up most of the screen.

“It gives me great pleasure to bestow the SheGives-Lanka Woman of the Year award on Kaavindi Fonseka, for the selfless work she has carried out with her charity, Pink Sapphires. Kaavindi is the youngest recipient of this award since it was established in 1956.”

The camera panned out to show Kaavi, who didn’t look surprised in the least. I knew that most award ceremonies like this notified the winners ahead of time so they could prepare their speeches and invite their families.

“So beautiful,” someone off camera said in a stage whisper, wistfulness dripping from their voice. They were immediately shushed, but there was no masking the obvious jealousy.

Kaavi sashayed confidently onto the stage, her salmon pink sari with gold accents shimmering delicately under the stage lights. Her hair was swept into a casual updo that would have taken hours to perfect, her nails matched the nine yards of silk draped around her, and her makeup was tastefully understated. How did she manage to look like a goddess no matter what she did?

“Thank you, everyone. What an absolute honor this award is.” Her voice was modulated, deep and low. Not a hint of awkward squeakiness. I could never be in such control.

“From the moment I moved back to Sri Lanka, I knew I had to found Pink Sapphires. Being from a family like mine, where giving back to the community is a part of our DNA, I was lucky to always be supported and encouraged in this endeavor. My life was changed and my eyes were opened because of the education I received, and it saddened me that it was my life of privilege that allowed me to have these wonderful experiences.

“We started off Pink Sapphires in a modest way—providing skills training, English language classes, and career counseling to bright young women who unfortunately did not have the financial means of investing in themselves. This year, however, has been our true breakthrough. In two months, we will be sending a batch of five scholarship recipients for our first-ever study-abroad program in California. We have grown from a tiny operation in my bedroom to coaching and mentoring hundreds of applicants to be independent, self-reliant young women, and I couldn’t be more proud.”

There was a round of applause, and Kaavi beamed.

“Of course, it wouldn’t be fair for me to accept this award without acknowledging the hard work and dedication by key members of my team. First and foremost, my parents, without whose love and support none of this would be possible. Thaththa, you had laid all the groundwork for me through hours of hard work and sacrifice, for which I am eternally grateful.

“Next, to Lakshi, Priya, Danushka, and the rest of my team. We joke that we are each other’s work wives, and I don’t know what I would do without you. Nothing in my life has been more satisfying than empowering a group of strong, dynamic women who teach me something new every day.

“And finally, to the man who helped me take Pink Sapphires to the next level. Who introduced me to partner companies abroad, who went to bat for me when it felt like I was losing, who helped me take my little charity truly global. The study-abroad program was his brainchild, and wouldn’t exist today without his support. He has been a friend, confidant, and most importantly, an ally. Ladies and gentlemen, I know this is a Woman of the Year award, but I’d like Matthew Spencer to join me onstage. Pink Sapphires could never have scaled up the way it did without him.”

The camera panned out to show Spencer rise slowly to his feet. Slightly red in the face, he made his way over to the stage. Kaavi started applauding and encouraged the audience to clap too. Spencer blushed but smiled at her. She handed the award to him and shook his hand—no hugging a man onstage; that wouldn’t be proper.

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