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Lindiwe had actually gotten here. In the town’s brief history, few had suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock.
However desperation had driven Lindiwe to extreme steps, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d likewise survived the journey.
Lindiwe had not seen the stops on her voyage as a traveler might, although there were couple of European tourists 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 choice from the many federal 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.
No one would want to be strained with such responsibility when there were many other more immediate requirements to attend to.
Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to treat illegal immigrants with anymore kindness than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had been found by an official at any point on her voyage. And when she had been obliged to declare her presence, 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 actually held true from the extremely 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 really little pay and a great deal of spoken and physical abuse in professions that were far 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 certifications that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high hopes for Ashton Lovelock. Despite the falling apart decay of the hastily-built home she was remaining in, it was a reasonably young town with energy-efficient real estate, extensive parking spaces, and a profusion of windmills and photovoltaic panels.
The reality was that Ashton Lovelock was a genuine paradise compared to her original home in Africa. The years of African famine had not reduced total population numbers by very much. Maseru still housed a population far greater than its infrastructure could support. The authorities were ineffectual against the criminal gangs that made it harmful to venture out whether at day or night. The few offered jobs paid very poorly if they ever paid at all. Homes and workplaces were collapsing from overlook. Queues of starving individuals wound through the high streets for the few items the criminal gangs allowed to get here in the shops. Just a lucky few were ever rewarded for their patience.
Ashton Lovelock, on the other hand, was a town of owner-occupation that had now become a neighbourhood of squats as the number of those who could manage to purchase residential or commercial property in the over-crowded Kingdom of England had shrunk at the same rate as the supply of non-derelict real estate stock. This town had once been house to a prosperous community of second and third generation Asian immigrants, however the regrettable policies of the just recently deposed Government of National Unity had actually led to their total evacuation. This inevitably left a vacuum that was now being filled by the newest wave of immigrants: of which Lindiwe was one. She was just one of lots of. There were people gathered in Ashton Lovelock from all over the world, though almost all of them were pretending to have come by means of the Northern European Union. This was a needed lie, made plausible in the aftermath of the National Server Centre Riots. Many came from Africa, at least as many from the Middle East and Asia, and, undoubtedly, refugees from the racially intolerant Republic of North America. The one thing everyone had in common was a shared
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Aparo shared the same single 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,” said Aparo, referring to the franchise where she worked. “You’re just going to need to search for work somewhere else.”
Lindiwe’s heart sank. Because Mr and Mrs Martin would be there and there weren’t numerous places open in the evening where she could hope to discover work, she couldn’t sleep on the mattress at night. This suggested that her pursuit of work would also suggest going without sleep.
Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night invested in the area of the bus depot in the company of others with nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely roamed the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for an employment chance. Not that there were many locations to go to in the town centre. The proprietor of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was supportive however pointed out that there was a long waiting list of equally desperate candidates.
Lindiwe soon understood that there were no tasks for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant community had currently taken all the readily available low-paid chances. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English people, much 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 included a service estate on the perimeter of Swindon where Lindiwe, at last, acquired a position but as nothing more demanding than a nightshift cleaning-woman. Although this position needed an expensive two-hour commute by bus followed by a half-hour walk it was still much better than needing to spend the whole night avoiding the couple sleeping on her daytime mattress.
Her official tasks mostly included switching on and switching off the different cleansing devices and robotics. However, it wasn’t long till Lindiwe discovered that cleansing wasn’t everything she was anticipated to do, although it wasn’t composed into her conditions of work (which, in any case, were entirely 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 inevitably be an e-paper indication posted on the door of these spaces that requested that they be cleaned later. In case there might be some misunderstanding, these doors were locked from the within. This was odd because the only individuals expected to be operating at the workplaces so late during the night were guard and technical operatives.
It quickly became obvious what was happening when Lindiwe bumped into any of the individuals who had actually been staying in a locked space. Lindiwe also noticed the odor of sex that was remaining on their person.
” I like all the personnel to chip in,” Lindiwe’s manager described as he handed her the meagre rewards for her first week’s work. He was an exile who ‘d returned home after the change 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 extra work.
” The change of federal government brought about numerous excellent chances,” Mr Singh stated with a sigh, “otherwise I wouldn’t be here, of course. This operation is similar to many others you’ll discover all over this nation.
And what they wanted was something Lindiwe now had to supply about two times a week in among the several out-of-bound offices. They were furnished with rather basic 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 steady stream of clients who pertained to take pleasure in the affordable pleasures that immigrant labour was now providing: their appetites whetted by the VR fantasies they might enjoy in the comfort of their own homes.
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 bodily fluids that the customers believed was a necessary part of love-making however throughout which ordeal 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 heard about these camps, her most likely fate there would be a lonesome death while she waited for a decision from the lots of government agencies and private charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the obligation for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.
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 discovered by an official at any point on her voyage. Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night invested in the area 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 evident distaste of native English people, many of whom openly teased Lindiwe with unsubtle reminders of the unethical practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.
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