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After many months of battle and sacrifice, the tough journey was finally over. Lindiwe had arrived. In the town’s brief history, few had suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. Few might have endured the rape, hardship and cravings. Few would have willingly paid a lot from so little savings to make a home in the fifty year old English New Town.

But desperation had actually driven Lindiwe to extreme steps, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d also endured the journey.

Lindiwe had not viewed the stops on her voyage as a traveler might, although there were few European tourists 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 decision from the many federal 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.

No one would wish to be strained with such obligation when there were so many other more immediate requirements to attend to.

Lindiwe didn’t anticipate Ashton Lovelock to deal with prohibited immigrants with any more compassion than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had actually been found by an official at any point on her voyage. There were the weeks and, in the run-down neighborhoods of Cairo, the months of working for really little pay and an excellent deal of physical and spoken abuse in occupations that were far more menial 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 qualifications that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high wish for Ashton Lovelock. In spite of the collapsing decay of the hastily-built house she was remaining in, it was a reasonably young town with energy-efficient housing, substantial parking spaces, and a profusion of windmills and solar panels.

The fact was that Ashton Lovelock was a genuine paradise compared to her initial home in Africa. The years of African starvation had not decreased general population numbers by very much. The few readily available tasks paid really poorly if they ever paid at all.

This undoubtedly left a vacuum that was now being filled by the latest wave of immigrants: of which Lindiwe was one. She was only one of many. Many came from Africa, at least as lots of from the Middle East and Asia, and, inevitably, refugees from the racially intolerant Republic of North America.

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

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

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 evening where she might hope to discover work, she could not sleep on the mattress at night. This suggested that her pursuit of work would also imply going without sleep.

Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night spent in the area of the bus depot in the business of others with absolutely nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely roamed the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for an employment chance. Not that there were lots of locations to check out in the town centre. The proprietor of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was sympathetic however explained that there was a long waiting list of equally desperate candidates. The other fast-food chain, Yo Sushi Pizza Hut, was rather less friendly and basically told her that just Muslim men could apply. Aside from that, the only grocery store– a Tesco-Walmart– was openly hostile and told her that the business had a policy of reporting thought immigrants. So there was little hope there either.

Lindiwe quickly realised that there were no tasks for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant neighborhood had already taken all the available low-paid opportunities. And this was much to the evident distaste of native English people, many of whom openly ridiculed Lindiwe with unsubtle reminders of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

The ever-widening radius of her job search eventually incorporated a business estate on the perimeter of Swindon where Lindiwe, at last, acquired a position but as nothing more requiring than a nightshift cleaning-woman. This position required an expensive two-hour commute by bus followed by a half-hour walk it was still better than having to invest the entire night avoiding the couple sleeping on her daytime mattress.

Her official tasks mostly involved changing on and turning off the different cleansing devices and robots. However, it wasn’t long until Lindiwe discovered that cleaning wasn’t everything she was expected to do, although it wasn’t composed into her conditions of work (which, in any case, were totally spoken and agreed with a handshake).

During the first week that Lindiwe worked at the George Monbiot eco-business park, she ended up being conscious of the presence of rooms that were out of bounds to her and the other night-time operatives. This was odd since the only individuals expected to be working at the workplaces so late at night were security guards and technical operatives.

When Lindiwe bumped into any of the people who ‘d been staying in a locked space, it soon ended up being obvious what was occurring. It was always a male and a female. The lady was usually much younger than the man and typically an immigrant. Lindiwe also saw the smell of sex that was lingering on their person. Her nostrils had become well attuned to the smell after the weeks she ‘d spent in Sarajevo in which her survival depended on the arrangement of blow-jobs to total complete strangers.

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

” Why don’t people go to brothels and massage parlours?” asked Lindiwe, who comprehended that her ongoing work was probably conditional on her accepting this additional work.

” The change of federal government brought about lots of great chances,” Mr Singh said with a sigh, “otherwise I would not be here, obviously. However one measure the new federal government also presented was to close the illegal sex establishments that were an unofficial refuge for the immigrant females who ‘d remained on in the nation, in spite of the continuous pressure to leave. This operation is similar to many others you’ll discover all over this nation. It’s a way for the Business Park’s property owners to utilize empty rooms in workplaces that would otherwise be decommissioned and for the punters to get what they desire.”

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 stable stream of consumers who came to take pleasure in the inexpensive enjoyments that immigrant labour was now offering: their appetites whetted by the VR fantasies they could enjoy in the convenience of their own houses.

For Lindiwe, this offered no pleasure at all until she squeezed into the workplace shower with the other nightshift cleaners to spray off the semen, urine and other bodily fluids that the consumers thought was a needed part of love-making however during which experience the vaginal penetration was probably the least horrible part.

In the town’s short 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 lonesome death while she waited for a choice from the many government companies and private 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 treat illegal immigrants with any more kindness than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had actually been found by an authorities at any point on her trip. Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night invested in the area of the bus depot in the business of others with nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely roamed the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for a work chance. And this was much to the evident distaste of native English people, many of whom openly taunted Lindiwe with unsubtle suggestions of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.