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Lindiwe had gotten here. In the town’s brief history, few had suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock.

But desperation had driven Lindiwe to extreme measures, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d also made it through the journey.

Lindiwe had not seen the stops on her voyage as a tourist might, although there were few European travelers who would venture into sub-Saharan Africa these days. And from what Lindiwe had actually heard about these camps, her most likely fate there would be a lonely death while she waited for a choice from the many federal government companies and personal charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the obligation for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.

Nobody would want to be burdened with such duty when there were many other more instant needs to resolve.

Lindiwe didn’t anticipate Ashton Lovelock to deal with illegal immigrants with any more generosity than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had been discovered by an authorities at any point on her trip. There were the weeks and, in the shanty towns of Cairo, the months of working for really little pay and a terrific deal of spoken and physical abuse in professions that were far more routine than her post-graduate degree and professional training had ever prepared her for.

Here in the Kingdom of England, there might be an opportunity to make good the certifications that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high expect Ashton Lovelock. Despite the crumbling decay of the hastily-built house she was staying in, it was a fairly young town with energy-efficient real estate, substantial parking spaces, and a profusion of windmills and solar panels.

The fact was that Ashton Lovelock was a veritable paradise compared to her initial home in Africa. The years of African scarcity hadn’t minimized total population numbers by really much. The few available jobs paid very poorly if they ever paid at all.

Ashton Lovelock, on the other hand, was a town of owner-occupation that had now become an area of squats as the number of those who could pay for to buy residential or commercial property in the over-crowded Kingdom of England had shrunk at the same rate as the supply of non-derelict housing stock. This town had once been house to a prosperous neighborhood of second and 3rd generation Asian immigrants, however the regrettable policies of the recently deposed Government of National Unity had resulted in their overall evacuation. This inevitably left a vacuum that was now being filled by the latest wave of immigrants: of which Lindiwe was one. She was just one of lots of. There were people gathered in Ashton Lovelock from all over the world, though almost all of them were pretending to have actually come via the Northern European Union. This was an essential lie, made plausible in the aftermath of the National Server Centre Riots. Numerous came from Africa, at least as many from the Middle East and Asia, and, inevitably, refugees from the racially intolerant Republic of North America. The one thing everyone had in common was a shared

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Once been a loft extension, Aparo shared the exact same single bed mattress with Lindiwe in a space that had. Three mattresses filled almost all the available floor area and each of them, including the bed mattress the two friends shared, was home to one set of individuals during the day and another during the night. Apara and Lindiwe shared the bed mattress in the daylight hours. At night, a black married couple from Mississippi slept on the exact same bed mattress and often left behind the trace of semen stains.

” There are no tasks at KFC-McDonalds,” stated Aparo, referring to the franchise where she worked. “You’re simply going to have to look for work in other places.”

Lindiwe’s heart sank. Since Mr and Mrs Martin would be there and there weren’t many places open in the evening where she might hope to discover work, she could not sleep on the mattress at night. This implied that her pursuit of employment would also suggest going without sleep.

Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night spent in the area of the bus depot in the business of others with absolutely nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely wandered the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for a work opportunity. Not that there were numerous locations to go to in the town centre. The owner of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was supportive however pointed out that there was a long waiting list of equally desperate prospects.

Lindiwe soon understood that there were no jobs for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant community had already taken all the readily available low-paid opportunities. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English citizens, many of whom freely ridiculed Lindiwe with unsubtle suggestions of the unethical practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

The ever-widening radius of her task search eventually incorporated a company estate on the perimeter of Swindon where Lindiwe, at last, gained a position but as nothing more demanding than a nightshift cleaning-woman. Although this position required a costly two-hour commute by bus followed by a half-hour walk it was still better than needing to invest the entire night avoiding the couple sleeping on her daytime mattress.

Her official tasks mostly included changing on and switching off the different cleansing devices and robots. It wasn’t long till Lindiwe discovered that cleaning wasn’t whatever she was expected to do, although it wasn’t written into her terms and conditions of employment (which, in any case, were entirely spoken and concurred with a handshake).

Throughout the first week that Lindiwe worked at the George Monbiot eco-business park, she became mindful of the existence of rooms that were out of bounds to her and the other night-time operatives. This was odd due to the fact that the only people expected to be working at the offices so late at night were security guards and technical operatives.

It soon ended up being apparent what was taking place when Lindiwe bumped into any of the people who ‘d been remaining in a locked space. Lindiwe also saw the odor of sex that was sticking around on their person.

” I like all the staff to chip in,” Lindiwe’s boss described as he handed her the meagre benefits for her first week’s work. He was an exile who had actually returned home after the change of government.

” Why do not people go to brothels and massage parlours?” asked Lindiwe, who comprehended that her continued work was almost certainly conditional on her accepting this additional work.

” The change of federal government brought about numerous great chances,” Mr Singh said with a sigh, “otherwise I wouldn’t be here, of course. This operation is similar to numerous others you’ll find all over this nation.

And what they desired was something Lindiwe now had to provide about twice a week in one of the several out-of-bound workplaces. There was a consistent stream of clients who came to take pleasure in the low-cost pleasures that immigrant labour was now offering: their hungers whetted by the VR fantasies they might enjoy in the comfort of their own houses.

For Lindiwe, this supplied no enjoyment at all till she squeezed into the workplace shower with the other nightshift cleaners to spray off the semen, urine and other physical fluids that the customers believed was a needed part of love-making but throughout which ordeal the vaginal penetration was probably the least horrible part.

In the town’s brief history, few had suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. And from what Lindiwe had heard about these camps, her most likely fate there would be a lonely death while she waited for a decision from the numerous government companies and personal charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the responsibility for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.

Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to deal with illegal immigrants with any more generosity than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her presence had been found by an authorities at any point on her trip. Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night spent in the area of the bus depot in the company of others with absolutely nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely wandered the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for a work chance. And this was much to the evident distaste of native English citizens, many of whom freely teased Lindiwe with unsubtle reminders of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.