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

Desperation had driven Lindiwe to extreme measures, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d likewise endured the journey.

Lindiwe hadn’t viewed the stops on her voyage as a tourist might, although there were couple of European travelers who would venture into sub-Saharan Africa these days. 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 many federal government firms and personal charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the obligation for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.

No one would wish to be strained with such duty when there were numerous other more immediate needs to deal with.

Lindiwe didn’t anticipate Ashton Lovelock to deal with illegal immigrants with any more kindness than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her presence had been found by an official at any point on her trip. And when she had been obliged to state her existence, well…

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There had been a number of times when she ‘d needed to utilize her body as currency to keep her and her companions safe. This had held true from the really start of her journey when she ‘d needed to compromise her virginity merely to secure an exit visa from the United States of South Africa. There were the weeks and, in the slums of Cairo, the months of working for extremely little pay and a lot of verbal and physical abuse in professions that were much more menial than her post-graduate degree and expert training had ever prepared her for.

Here in the Kingdom of England, there might be a chance to make good the certifications that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high hopes for Ashton Lovelock. Regardless of the falling apart decay of the hastily-built house she was staying in, it was a fairly young town with energy-efficient real estate, extensive parking spaces, and an abundance of windmills and solar panels.

The reality was that Ashton Lovelock was a veritable paradise compared to her original home in Africa. The years of African famine had not decreased total population numbers by extremely much. The few available tasks paid really badly if they ever paid at all.

Ashton Lovelock, on the other hand, was a town of owner-occupation that had now end up being an area of squats as the number of those who might manage to buy home in the over-crowded Kingdom of England had diminished at the same rate as the supply of non-derelict housing stock. This town had actually when been home to a flourishing community of 2nd and 3rd generation Asian immigrants, however the regrettable policies of the just recently deposed Government of National Unity had led to their overall evacuation. This inevitably left a vacuum that was now being filled by the latest wave of immigrants: of which Lindiwe was one. However she was only one of numerous. 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 a required lie, made plausible in the consequences of the National Server Centre Riots. Numerous came from Africa, a minimum of as many from the Middle East and Asia, and, undoubtedly, refugees from the racially intolerant Republic of North America. The one thing everybody had in typical was a shared

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Aparo shared the exact same single mattress with Lindiwe in a space that had once been a loft extension. Apara and Lindiwe shared the mattress in the daylight hours.

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

Lindiwe’s heart sank. She couldn’t sleep on the bed mattress at night because Mr and Mrs Martin would be there and there weren’t lots of locations open in the evening where she might wish to discover work. This meant that her pursuit of employment would also suggest going without sleep.

Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night invested in the vicinity of the bus depot in the business of others with nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely wandered the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for a work chance. Not that there were many locations to go to in the town centre. The owner of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was supportive but pointed out that there was a long waiting list of equally desperate prospects.

Lindiwe quickly realised that there were no jobs for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant neighborhood had already taken all the offered low-paid opportunities. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English residents, a lot of whom honestly taunted Lindiwe with unsubtle suggestions of the unethical practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

The ever-widening radius of her job search eventually included an organization estate on the border of Swindon where Lindiwe, at last, gained a position but as nothing more demanding than a nightshift cleaning-woman. This position required a costly two-hour commute by bus followed by a half-hour walk it was still better than having to spend the entire night preventing the couple sleeping on her daytime mattress.

Her main tasks mainly involved switching on and turning off the different cleansing machines and robotics. However, it wasn’t long up until Lindiwe discovered that cleansing wasn’t everything she was expected to do, although it wasn’t written into her conditions of employment (which, in any case, were completely spoken and agreed with a handshake).

Throughout the first week that Lindiwe worked at the George Monbiot eco-business park, she became aware of the presence of spaces that ran out bounds to her and the other night-time operatives. There would invariably be an e-paper sign published on the door of these spaces that asked for that they be cleaned up later on. In case there might be some misunderstanding, these doors were locked from the within. Due to the fact that the only people supposed to be working at the workplaces so late at night were security guards and technical operatives, this was odd.

It quickly became evident what was taking place when Lindiwe bumped into any of the people who ‘d been staying in a locked room. Lindiwe also discovered the smell of sex that was lingering on their individual.

” I like all the staff to chip in,” Lindiwe’s manager explained as he handed her the meagre benefits for her first week’s work. He was an exile who ‘d returned home after the modification of government.

” Why don’t people go to whorehouses and massage parlours?” asked Lindiwe, who comprehended that her continued employment was likely conditional on her accepting this additional work.

” The change of federal government brought about many great chances,” Mr Singh said with a sigh, “otherwise I wouldn’t be here, naturally. One measure the brand-new government also introduced was to close the illegal sex establishments that were an informal refuge for the immigrant females who ‘d remained on in the country, in spite of the constant pressure to leave. This operation is similar to numerous others you’ll find all over this country. It’s a method for the Business Park’s landlords to use empty spaces in offices that would otherwise be decommissioned and for the punters to get what they desire.”

And what they desired was something Lindiwe now had to offer about twice a week in one of the numerous out-of-bound workplaces. There was a steady stream of consumers who came to take pleasure in the low-cost satisfaction that immigrant labour was now providing: their cravings whetted by the VR dreams they could enjoy in the comfort of their own houses.

For Lindiwe, this supplied no enjoyment at all up until she squeezed into the workplace shower with the other nightshift cleaners to spray off the semen, urine and other physical fluids that the clients believed was a required part of love-making however throughout which experience the vaginal penetration was most likely 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 actually 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 private charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the duty for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.

Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to treat illegal immigrants with any more compassion than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her presence had been discovered by an official at any point on her voyage. Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night invested in the vicinity of the bus depot in the business of others with 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 obvious distaste of native English citizens, many of whom openly ridiculed Lindiwe with unsubtle reminders of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.