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After many months of battle and sacrifice, the strenuous journey was finally over. Lindiwe had arrived. In the town’s short history, few had actually suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. Couple of could have sustained the hunger, adversity and rape. Few would have willingly paid a lot from so little savings to make a home in the fifty years of age English New Town.

But desperation had actually driven Lindiwe to severe steps, 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 tourists who would venture into sub-Saharan Africa these days. What she saw of the thousands of 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 prohibitively costly fossil fuel. She saw no airports and most certainly no passport controllers. Had she satisfied even one in between Lesotho and London, she ‘d have been unceremoniously bundled away in the back of a migration paddy wagon either to be disposed back in her country of origin or detained in among the many refugee camps that lined the coasts of North Africa. And from what Lindiwe had become aware of these camps, her most likely fate there would be a lonesome death while she waited on a decision from the many federal government firms and private charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the responsibility for feeding the countless desperate souls in their care.

No one would want to be strained with such obligation when there were so many other more immediate needs to deal with.

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 presence had actually been discovered by an authorities at any point on her voyage. And when she had actually been obliged to state her existence, well…

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There had been numerous times when she ‘d needed to use her body as currency to keep her and her companions safe. This had been the case from the extremely start of her journey when she ‘d needed to compromise her virginity just to secure an exit visa from the United States of South Africa. There were the weeks and, in the run-down neighborhoods of Cairo, the months of working for very little pay and a great deal of physical and verbal abuse in occupations that were even more routine 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 credentials that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high wish for Ashton Lovelock. In spite of the falling apart decay of the hastily-built home she was remaining in, it was a relatively young town with energy-efficient housing, extensive 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 had not reduced general population numbers by very much. Maseru still housed a population far greater than its infrastructure could support. The cops were ineffectual versus the criminal gangs that made it dangerous to venture out whether at day or night. The few available tasks paid very badly if they ever paid at all. Homes and workplaces were collapsing from disregard. Lines of starving people wound through the high streets for the few products the criminal gangs permitted to arrive in the shops. Only a lucky couple of were ever rewarded for their perseverance.

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 many. Lots of 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 room that had actually as soon as been a loft extension. Apara and Lindiwe shared the mattress in the daytime hours.

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

Lindiwe’s heart sank. Because Mr and Mrs Martin would be there and there weren’t many places open in the night where she could hope to find work, she couldn’t sleep on the mattress at night. This meant that her pursuit of employment would also mean going without sleep.

Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night spent in the vicinity 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 a work chance. Not that there were numerous locations to visit in the town centre. The owner of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was sympathetic but explained that there was a long waiting list of equally desperate prospects. The other fast-food chain, Yo Sushi Pizza Hut, was rather less friendly and more or less told her that just Muslim guys could apply. Aside from that, the only supermarket– a Tesco-Walmart– was honestly hostile and informed her that the business had a policy of reporting believed 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 already taken all the available low-paid chances. And this was much to the obvious distaste of native English residents, many of whom freely teased Lindiwe with unsubtle suggestions of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

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

Her official jobs primarily included changing on and switching off the numerous cleaning machines and robots. Nevertheless, it wasn’t long till Lindiwe found that cleansing wasn’t everything she was anticipated to do, although it wasn’t written into her terms of work (which, in any case, were completely spoken and agreed with a handshake).

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

It soon ended up being evident what was happening when Lindiwe bumped into any of the people who had actually been staying in a locked space. Lindiwe likewise saw the smell of sex that was sticking around on their person.

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

” Why do not people go to whorehouses and massage parlours?” asked Lindiwe, who understood that her ongoing work was probably conditional on her accepting this extra work.

” The modification of government brought about numerous excellent chances,” Mr Singh stated with a sigh, “otherwise I wouldn’t be here, of course. This operation is comparable to lots of others you’ll discover all over this country.

And what they desired was something Lindiwe now had to supply about twice a week in one of the numerous out-of-bound workplaces. There was a constant stream of customers who came to delight in the affordable satisfaction that immigrant labour was now providing: 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 till she squeezed into the office shower with the other nightshift cleaners to spray off the semen, urine and other bodily fluids that the consumers thought was a required part of love-making however during which experience the vaginal penetration was most likely the least horrible part.

In the town’s brief history, few had actually 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 decision from the lots of federal government agencies 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 treat unlawful 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 voyage. Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night invested in the vicinity 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 a work opportunity. And this was much to the evident distaste of native English citizens, numerous of whom honestly ridiculed Lindiwe with unsubtle reminders of the unethical practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

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Cumbria, England (EN)

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