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Lindiwe had arrived. In the town’s brief history, couple of had suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock.
Desperation had driven Lindiwe to severe measures, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d also endured the journey.
Lindiwe had not seen the stops on her voyage as a traveler might, although there were few European travelers who would venture into sub-Saharan Africa nowadays. What she saw of the countless miles between Southern Africa and Northern Europe wasn’t through the round windows of an aeroplane soaring above the clouds and streaking ahead of a path of excessively costly fossil fuel. She saw no airports and many certainly no passport controllers. Had she fulfilled even one between Lesotho and London, she ‘d have been unceremoniously bundled away in the back of an immigration police van either to be disposed back in her native land or detained in among the numerous refugee camps that lined the shores of North Africa. And from what Lindiwe had actually found out about these camps, her probably fate there would be a lonely death while she waited for a decision from the many government firms and personal charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the duty for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.
Nobody would want to be strained with such duty when there were a lot of other more instant requirements to address.
Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to treat illegal immigrants with any more generosity than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had been discovered by an official at any point on her voyage. And when she had been required to declare her presence, well…
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There had been several times when she ‘d had to utilize her body as currency to keep her and her buddies safe. This had held true from the really start of her journey when she ‘d needed to sacrifice her virginity simply to secure an exit visa from the United States of South Africa. There were the weeks and, in the shanty towns of Cairo, the months of working for very little pay and a good deal of spoken and physical abuse in occupations 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 a chance to make good the certifications that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high wish for Ashton Lovelock. Despite the falling apart decay of the hastily-built house she was staying in, it was a reasonably young town with energy-efficient housing, substantial parking spaces, and an abundance of windmills and solar panels.
The truth was that Ashton Lovelock was a veritable paradise compared to her original home in Africa. The years of African scarcity hadn’t decreased general population numbers by very much. Maseru still housed a population far greater than its infrastructure might support. The police were futile against the criminal gangs that made it harmful to venture out whether at day or night. If they ever paid at all, the few offered jobs paid really inadequately. Offices and houses were collapsing from neglect. Lines of starving individuals wound through the high streets for the few products the criminal gangs allowed to show up in the shops. Just a fortunate couple of were ever rewarded for their persistence.
This undoubtedly left a vacuum that was now being filled by the newest wave of immigrants: of which Lindiwe was one. She was only one of numerous. Numerous came from Africa, at least as numerous from the Middle East and Asia, and, inevitably, refugees from the racially intolerant Republic of North America.
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Aparo shared the very same single mattress with Lindiwe in a room that had when been a loft extension. Apara and Lindiwe shared the bed mattress in the daylight hours.
” There are no jobs at KFC-McDonalds,” said Aparo, referring to the franchise where she worked. “You’re just going to have to try to find work elsewhere.”
Lindiwe’s heart sank. Due to the fact that Mr and Mrs Martin would be there and there weren’t many locations open in the night where she could hope to find work, she couldn’t sleep on the mattress at night. This suggested that her pursuit of work would likewise imply going without sleep.
Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night spent in the vicinity of the bus depot in the company of others with nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely wandered the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for an employment chance. Not that there were lots of places to check out in the town centre. The owner of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was sympathetic however explained that there was a long waiting list of similarly desperate candidates. The other fast-food chain, Yo Sushi Pizza Hut, was rather less friendly and basically informed her that only Muslim guys could use. Aside from that, the only supermarket– a Tesco-Walmart– was honestly hostile and informed her that the business had a policy of reporting thought immigrants. There was little hope there either.
Lindiwe soon understood that there were no tasks for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant community had actually 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 tips of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.
The ever-widening radius of her task search eventually included a service estate on the boundary of Swindon where Lindiwe, at last, acquired a position but as absolutely nothing more demanding than a nightshift cleaning-woman. Although this position required an expensive two-hour commute by bus followed by a half-hour walk it was still much better than having to invest the entire night preventing the couple sleeping on her daytime bed mattress.
Her main tasks mostly involved switching on and turning off the various cleansing makers and robots. It wasn’t long till Lindiwe found that cleansing wasn’t everything she was expected to do, although it wasn’t written into her terms and conditions of work (which, in any case, were completely verbal and concurred with a handshake).
During the first week that Lindiwe worked at the George Monbiot eco-business park, she became aware of the existence of spaces that were out of bounds to her and the other night-time operatives. There would invariably be an e-paper indication posted on the door of these rooms that asked for that they be cleaned up later. In case there might be some misunderstanding, these doors were locked from the within. This was odd since the only individuals expected to be operating at the offices so late in the evening were security personnel and technical operatives.
It quickly became obvious what was taking place when Lindiwe ran into any of the people who had actually been staying in a locked room. It was constantly a man and a woman. The lady was inevitably much younger than the man and usually an immigrant. Lindiwe also discovered the smell of sex that was remaining on their individual. Her nostrils had ended up being well attuned to the smell after the weeks she ‘d invested in Sarajevo in which her survival relied on the provision of blow-jobs to total strangers.
” I like all the staff to chip in,” Lindiwe’s manager explained as he handed her the meagre rewards for her very first week’s work. He was an exile who ‘d returned home after the modification of government.
” Why do not people go to brothels and massage parlours?” asked Lindiwe, who understood that her ongoing employment was probably conditional on her accepting this additional work.
” The change of government brought about many good opportunities,” Mr Singh said with a sigh, “otherwise I wouldn’t be here, of course. This operation is similar to many others you’ll find all over this nation.
And what they wanted was something Lindiwe now had to supply about twice a week in one of the several out-of-bound workplaces. There was a constant stream of consumers who came to delight in the affordable pleasures that immigrant labour was now supplying: their appetites whetted by the VR dreams they might enjoy in the convenience of their own houses.
For Lindiwe, this provided no satisfaction 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 customers believed was a necessary part of love-making however during which ordeal the vaginal penetration was most likely the least distasteful part.
In the town’s short 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 lonesome death while she waited for a choice from the many government agencies and personal 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 prohibited immigrants with any more kindness than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had been discovered by an official at any point on her trip. Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night invested in the area of the bus depot in the company of others with absolutely nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely roamed the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for an employment chance. And this was much to the obvious distaste of native English residents, many of whom freely teased Lindiwe with unsubtle reminders of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.
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