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After so many months of struggle and sacrifice, the difficult journey was lastly over. Lindiwe had arrived. In the town’s short history, few had suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. Few might have endured the rape, difficulty and cravings. Couple of would have willingly paid a lot from so little cost savings to make a home in the fifty years of age English New Town.

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

Lindiwe had not viewed the stops on her trip 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 spotting ahead of a trail of excessively pricey fossil fuel. She saw no airports and most certainly no passport controllers. Had she satisfied even one between Lesotho and London, she ‘d have been unceremoniously bundled away in the back of an immigration paddy wagon either to be disposed back in her native land or apprehended in one of the countless refugee camps that lined the coasts of North Africa. And from what Lindiwe had heard about these camps, her probably fate there would be a lonesome death while she awaited a decision from the many government companies and private charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the obligation for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.

Nobody would wish to be burdened with such responsibility when there were so many other more instant 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 existence had been found by an official at any point on her trip. And when she had actually been obliged to state 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 companions safe. This had been the case from the extremely start of her journey when she ‘d had to compromise her virginity just 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 extremely little pay and a great deal of physical and spoken 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 an opportunity to make good the credentials that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high wish for Ashton Lovelock. In spite of the crumbling decay of the hastily-built home she was staying in, it was a reasonably young town with energy-efficient real estate, extensive parking spaces, and an abundance of windmills and solar panels.

The fact was that Ashton Lovelock was a genuine paradise compared to her original home in Africa. The years of African famine had not decreased total 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 hazardous to venture out whether at day or night. The few readily available tasks paid very inadequately if they ever paid at all. Homes and workplaces were collapsing from neglect. Lines of starving people wound through the high streets for the few products the criminal gangs permitted to get here in the shops. Only a lucky couple of were ever rewarded for their persistence.

This inevitably 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. Numerous came from Africa, at least as lots of from the Middle East and Asia, and, undoubtedly, refugees from the racially intolerant Republic of North America.

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

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

Lindiwe’s heart sank. She couldn’t sleep on the bed mattress during the night because Mr and Mrs Martin would be there and there weren’t numerous places open at night where she might want to find work. This suggested that her pursuit of employment would likewise imply going without sleep.

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 opportunity. Not that there were many 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 only Muslim males could use. Aside from that, the only grocery store– a Tesco-Walmart– was openly hostile and told her that the business had a policy of reporting believed immigrants. So there was little hope there either.

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

The ever-widening radius of her job search eventually encompassed a business estate on the boundary of Swindon where Lindiwe, at last, got a position however as nothing more requiring than a nightshift cleaning-woman. Although this position required a pricey two-hour commute by bus followed by a half-hour walk it was still much better than having to spend the entire night avoiding the couple sleeping on her daytime mattress.

Her official jobs mainly included switching on and turning off the various cleansing devices and robotics. It wasn’t long until 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 ended up being aware of the existence of rooms that were out of bounds to her and the other night-time operatives. This was odd because the only individuals supposed to be working at the offices 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 room, it quickly became obvious what was happening. It was always a woman and a guy. The female was usually much more youthful than the man and generally an immigrant. Lindiwe likewise noticed the smell of sex that was sticking around on their person. Her nostrils had actually become well attuned to the smell after the weeks she ‘d spent in Sarajevo in which her survival relied on the arrangement of blow-jobs to total complete strangers.

” I like all the staff to chip in,” Lindiwe’s boss explained as he handed her the meagre benefits for her very first week’s work. He was a slim dark-skinned male with a turban and a West Midlands accent. He was an exile who ‘d returned home after the change of government. “The advantages are extra pay. I can’t promise a fortune however tips can make a distinction.”

” Why don’t individuals go to brothels and massage parlours?” asked Lindiwe, who understood that her continued work was almost certainly conditional on her accepting this extra work.

” The change of government brought about numerous great chances,” Mr Singh said with a sigh, “otherwise I would not be here, of course. However one procedure the new federal government also presented was to close the illicit sex facilities that were an informal haven for the immigrant females who ‘d remained on in the nation, in spite of the consistent pressure to leave. This operation resembles lots of others you’ll find all over this country. It’s a way for the Business Park’s proprietors 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 provide about twice a week in among the several out-of-bound workplaces. They were furnished with rather fundamental beds instead of desks, chairs and computers. The felt-covered partitions around each cubicle now served the function of hiding what was going on. There was a constant stream of customers who came to delight in the low-cost enjoyments that immigrant labour was now offering: their hungers whetted by the VR dreams they might enjoy in the comfort of their own houses.

For Lindiwe, this provided no satisfaction at all up until she squeezed into the office shower with the other nightshift cleaners to spray off the semen, urine and other bodily fluids that the customers thought was an essential part of love-making however during which experience the vaginal penetration was probably 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 numerous federal government firms 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 deal with unlawful immigrants with any more generosity than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had actually been discovered by an official at any point on her voyage. Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night invested in the area 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 a work opportunity. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English residents, many of whom freely teased Lindiwe with unsubtle tips of the unethical practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.