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After so many months of struggle and sacrifice, the arduous journey was finally over. Lindiwe had shown up. In the town’s short history, few had actually suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. Few might have withstood the hardship, cravings and rape. Couple of would have willingly paid so much from so little savings to make a home in the fifty years of age English New Town.

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

Lindiwe hadn’t viewed the stops on her trip as a tourist might, although there were few European tourists who would venture into sub-Saharan Africa these days. What she saw of the thousands of miles in between Southern Africa and Northern Europe wasn’t through the round windows of an aeroplane overlooking the clouds and spotting ahead of a path of prohibitively costly fossil fuel. She saw no airports and a lot of definitely no passport controllers. Had she met even one in between Lesotho and London, she ‘d have been unceremoniously bundled away in the back of an immigration police van either to be discarded back in her native land or apprehended in one of the numerous refugee camps that lined the coasts of North Africa. 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 decision from the many federal 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.

Nobody would want to be strained with such duty when there were so many other more immediate needs to resolve.

Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to deal with unlawful immigrants with any more compassion than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her presence had actually been discovered by an official at any point on her trip. There were the weeks and, in the shanty towns of Cairo, the months of working for very little pay and a great offer 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 an opportunity to make good the certifications that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high wish for Ashton Lovelock. In spite of the collapsing decay of the hastily-built home she was remaining in, it was a relatively young town with energy-efficient real estate, substantial parking spaces, and an abundance of windmills and solar panels.

The fact was that Ashton Lovelock was a veritable paradise compared to her initial home in Africa. The years of African starvation had not minimized total population numbers by quite. Maseru still housed a population far greater than its facilities might support. The cops were useless versus the criminal gangs that made it harmful to venture out whether at day or night. The few offered jobs paid very badly if they ever paid at all. Homes and offices were collapsing from neglect. Queues of starving individuals wound through the high streets for the few products the criminal gangs permitted to get here in the shops. Only a fortunate few were ever rewarded for their persistence.

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

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Aparo shared the 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 daylight hours.

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

Lindiwe’s heart sank. She couldn’t sleep on the bed mattress at night since Mr and Mrs Martin would exist and there weren’t many places open at night where she could want to find work. This meant that her pursuit of employment would also suggest going without sleep.

Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night invested in the vicinity 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 an employment opportunity. Not that there were many locations to check out in the town centre. The owner of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was sympathetic but pointed out that there was a long waiting list of similarly desperate candidates.

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 evident distaste of native English residents, a lot of whom freely taunted Lindiwe with unsubtle reminders of the unethical practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

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

Her official tasks mostly involved changing on and switching off the different cleaning devices and robots. Nevertheless, it wasn’t long up until Lindiwe discovered that cleansing 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 became aware of the existence of rooms that were out of bounds to her and the other night-time operatives. There would invariably be an e-paper sign posted on the door of these spaces that asked for that they be cleaned up later on. In case there might be some misconception, these doors were locked from the within. This was odd since the only people supposed to be operating at the workplaces so late during the night were security guards and technical operatives.

It soon became obvious what was occurring when Lindiwe bumped into any of the people who ‘d been remaining in a locked room. Lindiwe likewise observed the smell of sex that was sticking around on their person.

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

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

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

And what they wanted was something Lindiwe now had to provide about two times a week in one of the a number of out-of-bound offices. There was a consistent stream of customers who came to enjoy the affordable enjoyments that immigrant labour was now providing: their hungers whetted by the VR fantasies they could enjoy in the convenience of their own houses.

For Lindiwe, this offered no enjoyment at all up until she squeezed into the office shower with the other nightshift cleaners to spray off the semen, urine and other physical fluids that the customers thought was a required part of love-making but during which ordeal the vaginal penetration was probably the least distasteful part.

In the town’s brief history, couple of had actually 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 lonely death while she waited for a decision from the many government agencies and personal charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the obligation for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.

Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to treat illegal immigrants with any more compassion 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 trip. 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 an employment opportunity. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English people, many of whom honestly ridiculed Lindiwe with unsubtle pointers of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.