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After a lot of months of battle and sacrifice, the arduous journey was finally over. Lindiwe had gotten here. In the town’s short history, few had actually suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. Couple of could have endured the rape, misfortune and appetite. Few would have willingly paid a lot from so little cost savings to make a home in the fifty year old English New Town.
Desperation had driven Lindiwe to extreme procedures, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d also endured the journey.
Lindiwe hadn’t viewed 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 countless 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 trail of excessively expensive 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 dumped back in her native land or apprehended in among the many refugee camps that lined the shores of North Africa. And from what Lindiwe had become aware of these camps, her probably fate there would be a lonely 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 obligation for feeding the countless desperate souls in their care.
When there were so many other more immediate requirements to attend to, no one would want to be strained with such responsibility.
Lindiwe didn’t anticipate Ashton Lovelock to treat unlawful immigrants with any more compassion than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her presence had been found by an official at any point on her voyage. There were the weeks and, in the slums of Cairo, the months of working for really little pay and a terrific offer of spoken and physical abuse in professions that were far more routine than her post-graduate degree and expert training had actually ever prepared her for.
Here in the Kingdom of England, there might be a chance to make good the qualifications that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high expect 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, comprehensive parking spaces, and an abundance of windmills and solar panels.
The reality was that Ashton Lovelock was a veritable paradise compared to her initial home in Africa. The years of African starvation hadn’t decreased overall population numbers by very much. Maseru still housed a population far greater than its facilities could support. The police were futile against the criminal gangs that made it harmful to venture out whether at day or night. The few available tasks paid extremely improperly if they ever paid at all. Homes and workplaces were collapsing from neglect. Queues of starving people wound through the high streets for the few goods the criminal gangs allowed to arrive 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 most current wave of immigrants: of which Lindiwe was one. She was just one of lots of. Many came from Africa, at least as numerous from the Middle East and Asia, and, inevitably, refugees from the racially intolerant Republic of North America.
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Once been a loft extension, Aparo shared the exact same single bed mattress with Lindiwe in a space that had actually. 3 bed mattress filled almost all the readily available floor area and each of them, consisting of the mattress the two pals shared, was home to one set of individuals throughout the day and another throughout the night. Apara and Lindiwe shared the mattress in the daytime hours. In the evening, a black married couple from Mississippi slept on the very same bed mattress and regularly left the trace of semen stains.
” There are no jobs at KFC-McDonalds,” said Aparo, referring to the franchise where she worked. “You’re simply going to need to try to find work elsewhere.”
Lindiwe’s heart sank. She couldn’t sleep on the mattress during the night because Mr and Mrs Martin would exist and there weren’t lots of places open at night where she might hope to discover work. This implied that her pursuit of employment would likewise suggest going without sleep.
Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night spent in the vicinity of the bus depot in the company of others with absolutely nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely wandered the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for a work opportunity. Not that there were many locations to visit in the town centre. The proprietor of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was sympathetic however pointed out that there was a long waiting list of equally desperate prospects.
Lindiwe soon realised that there were no jobs for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant community had actually already taken all the readily available low-paid opportunities. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English citizens, a number of whom openly taunted Lindiwe with unsubtle pointers of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.
The ever-widening radius of her task search ultimately included a service estate on the boundary of Swindon where Lindiwe, at last, gained a position however as absolutely nothing more demanding than a nightshift cleaning-woman. This position needed an expensive two-hour commute by bus followed by a half-hour walk it was still much better than having to spend the whole night preventing the couple sleeping on her daytime bed mattress.
Her official tasks primarily included switching on and turning off the numerous 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 agreed with a handshake).
During the first week that Lindiwe operated at the George Monbiot eco-business park, she became aware of the presence of rooms that were out of bounds to her and the other night-time operatives. There would invariably be an e-paper sign published on the door of these spaces that requested that they be cleaned up later on. In case there might be some misunderstanding, these doors were locked from the inside. This was odd since the only individuals expected to be operating at the workplaces so late in the evening were security guards and technical operatives.
When Lindiwe bumped into any of the people who ‘d been remaining in a locked space, it soon ended up being obvious what was taking place. It was always a female and a man. The woman was inevitably much more youthful than the man and generally an immigrant. Lindiwe also saw the smell of sex that was lingering on their person. Her nostrils had become well attuned to the smell after the weeks she ‘d spent in Sarajevo in which her survival depended on the arrangement of blow-jobs to total complete strangers.
” I like all the staff to chip in,” Lindiwe’s employer explained as he handed her the meagre benefits for her very first week’s work. He was a slim dark-skinned man with a turban and a West Midlands accent. He was an exile who ‘d returned home after the modification of federal government. “The benefits are additional pay. I can’t assure a fortune but ideas can make a difference.”
” Why don’t individuals go to whorehouses and massage parlours?” asked Lindiwe, who comprehended that her continued employment was probably conditional on her accepting this extra work.
” The change of federal government brought about many great possibilities,” Mr Singh stated with a sigh, “otherwise I wouldn’t be here, of course. This operation is similar to many others you’ll find all over this country.
And what they desired was something Lindiwe now needed to provide about two times a week in one of the several out-of-bound offices. They were provided with rather standard beds instead of desks, computer systems and chairs. The felt-covered partitions around each cubicle now served the function of concealing what was going on. There was a steady stream of consumers who came to take pleasure in the inexpensive pleasures that immigrant labour was now providing: their cravings whetted by the VR fantasies they could enjoy in the comfort of their own houses.
For Lindiwe, this provided no enjoyment at all until she squeezed into the workplace shower with the other nightshift cleaners to spray off the semen, urine and other physical fluids that the consumers thought was a required part of love-making however during which ordeal the vaginal penetration was probably 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 numerous 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.
Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to deal with unlawful immigrants with any more kindness than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had been discovered by an official at any point on her voyage. 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 roamed the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for an employment opportunity. And this was much to the evident distaste of native English people, numerous of whom honestly teased Lindiwe with unsubtle tips of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.
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