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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 actually suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. Few might have withstood the cravings, rape and adversity. Few would have willingly paid a lot from so little cost savings to make a home in the fifty year old English New Town.

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

Lindiwe hadn’t seen the stops on her voyage as a tourist might, although there were few European travelers 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 spotting ahead of a trail of prohibitively pricey nonrenewable fuel source. She saw no airports and a lot of absolutely no passport controllers. Had she fulfilled even one in between Lesotho and London, she ‘d have been unceremoniously bundled away in the back of a migration police van either to be discarded back in her country of origin or apprehended in among the countless refugee camps that lined the coasts of North Africa. And from what Lindiwe had become aware of these camps, her more than likely fate there would be a lonely death while she awaited a choice 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.

Nobody would wish to be burdened with such obligation when there were many other more immediate requirements to address.

Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to deal with prohibited immigrants with any more generosity than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had been found by an authorities at any point on her voyage. There were the weeks and, in the slums of Cairo, the months of working for very little pay and a great deal of verbal 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 an opportunity to make good the credentials that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high hopes for Ashton Lovelock. Regardless of the crumbling decay of the hastily-built house she was staying in, it was a relatively young town with energy-efficient housing, extensive parking spaces, and an abundance 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 scarcity had not decreased general population numbers by quite. Maseru still housed a population far greater than its facilities might support. The cops were inefficient versus the criminal gangs that made it dangerous to venture out whether at day or night. The few available jobs paid extremely poorly if they ever paid at all. Offices and houses were collapsing from overlook. Lines of starving people wound through the high streets for the few goods the criminal gangs permitted to arrive in the shops. Only a fortunate few were ever rewarded for their perseverance.

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

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As soon as been a loft extension, Aparo shared the exact same single mattress with Lindiwe in a space that had. Three bed mattress filled almost all the available floor space and each of them, including the bed mattress the two pals shared, was house to one set of individuals during the day and another during the night. Apara and Lindiwe shared the mattress in the daylight hours. At night, a black couple from Mississippi slept on the exact same bed mattress and regularly left the trace of semen discolorations.

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

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

Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night spent 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 an employment chance. Not that there were numerous 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 similarly desperate prospects. The other fast-food chain, Yo Sushi Pizza Hut, was rather less friendly and more or less told her that just Muslim men could use. Aside from that, the only grocery store– a Tesco-Walmart– was freely hostile and informed her that the business had a policy of reporting thought immigrants. There was little hope there either.

Lindiwe soon realised that there were no jobs for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant neighborhood had actually already taken all the available low-paid chances. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English residents, many of whom honestly ridiculed Lindiwe with unsubtle pointers of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

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

Her official tasks mainly included changing on and switching off the various cleansing makers and robots. It wasn’t long until Lindiwe discovered that cleansing wasn’t everything she was expected to do, although it wasn’t written into her terms and conditions of work (which, in any case, were entirely spoken and concurred with a handshake).

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

It quickly ended up being evident what was occurring when Lindiwe bumped into any of the individuals who had actually been staying in a locked space. Lindiwe also discovered the smell of sex that was sticking around on their individual.

” I like all the personnel to chip in,” Lindiwe’s boss 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 modification of government.

” Why do not individuals go to whorehouses and massage parlours?” asked Lindiwe, who comprehended that her continued work was almost certainly conditional on her accepting this additional work.

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

And what they desired was something Lindiwe now had to offer about two times a week in among the numerous out-of-bound workplaces. They were furnished with rather standard beds rather than computers, chairs and desks. The felt-covered partitions around each cubicle now served the function of concealing what was going on. There was a constant stream of consumers who concerned delight in the low-cost satisfaction that immigrant labour was now supplying: their hungers whetted by the VR dreams they could enjoy in the convenience of their own houses.

For Lindiwe, this supplied no enjoyment at all until 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 necessary part of love-making but during which experience the vaginal penetration was most likely 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 heard about these camps, her most likely fate there would be a lonesome death while she waited for a choice from the many government firms and personal 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 illegal immigrants with any more kindness than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her presence had been discovered by an official at any point on her voyage. Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night spent in the vicinity 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 an employment chance. And this was much to the obvious distaste of native English people, many of whom freely ridiculed Lindiwe with unsubtle suggestions of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

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Isle of Anglesey, Wales (WA)

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