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

Desperation had driven Lindiwe to extreme steps, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d also survived the journey.

Lindiwe hadn’t seen the stops on her voyage as a traveler might, although there were few European travelers 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 soaring above the clouds and spotting ahead of a path of excessively expensive fossil fuel. She saw no airports and a lot of certainly no passport controllers. Had she satisfied even one between Lesotho and London, she ‘d have been unceremoniously bundled away in the back of a migration paddy wagon either to be discarded back in her native land or apprehended in one of the many refugee camps that lined the coasts of North Africa. And from what Lindiwe had found out about these camps, her more than likely fate there would be a lonesome death while she awaited a choice from the many federal government firms and personal charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the responsibility for feeding the countless desperate souls in their care.

No one would want to be strained with such responsibility when there were so many other more immediate needs to deal with.

Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to treat illegal immigrants with anymore generosity than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her presence had been found by an official at any point on her trip. And when she had been obliged to declare her existence, well…

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There had actually been several times when she ‘d had to utilize her body as currency to keep her and her buddies safe. This had been the case from the very start of her journey when she ‘d needed to sacrifice her virginity simply to protect an exit visa from the United States of South Africa. There were the weeks and, in the slums of Cairo, the months of working for extremely little pay and a lot of spoken and physical abuse in occupations that were even more menial than her post-graduate degree and professional training had actually ever prepared her for.

Here in the Kingdom of England, there might be an opportunity to make great the certifications that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high expect Ashton Lovelock. In spite of the crumbling decay of the hastily-built house she was remaining in, it was a fairly young town with energy-efficient real estate, comprehensive parking spaces, and an abundance of windmills and photovoltaic panels.

The fact was that Ashton Lovelock was a veritable paradise compared to her original home in Africa. The years of African scarcity had not decreased total population numbers by extremely much. The few available tasks paid very poorly if they ever paid at all.

This inevitably left a vacuum that was now being filled by the most current wave of immigrants: of which Lindiwe was one. She was only one of lots of. Many came from Africa, at least as lots of 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 as soon as been a loft extension. Apara and Lindiwe shared the mattress in the daylight hours.

” There are no tasks at KFC-McDonalds,” said Aparo, describing the franchise where she worked. “You’re simply going to need to look for work elsewhere.”

Lindiwe’s heart sank. Since Mr and Mrs Martin would be there and there weren’t lots of locations open in the evening where she might hope to find work, she could not sleep on the bed mattress at night. This suggested that her pursuit of work would also imply 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 a work opportunity. Not that there were many places to visit in the town centre. The owner of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was considerate but pointed out that there was a long waiting list of equally desperate prospects.

Lindiwe quickly realised that there were no tasks for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant community had already taken all the readily available low-paid opportunities. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English residents, a lot of whom openly teased Lindiwe with unsubtle reminders of the unethical practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

The ever-widening radius of her job search ultimately incorporated an organization estate on the boundary of Swindon where Lindiwe, at last, got a position but as nothing more requiring than a nightshift cleaning-woman. This position required an expensive two-hour commute by bus followed by a half-hour walk it was still better than having to invest the entire night preventing the couple sleeping on her daytime bed mattress.

Her main jobs mostly included switching on and turning off the different cleaning makers and robots. Nevertheless, it wasn’t long till Lindiwe discovered that cleaning wasn’t whatever she was anticipated to do, although it wasn’t written into her terms of employment (which, in any case, were entirely verbal and agreed with a handshake).

During the first week that Lindiwe worked at the George Monbiot eco-business park, she became mindful of the presence of rooms that were out of bounds to her and the other night-time operatives. This was odd due to the fact that the only people 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 remaining in a locked space, it soon became obvious what was taking place. It was always a female and a man. The lady was usually much more youthful than the man and normally an immigrant. Lindiwe also saw the smell of sex that was sticking around on their individual. 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 strangers.

” 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 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 federal government. “The benefits are additional pay. I can’t guarantee a fortune but pointers can make a difference.”

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

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

And what they desired was something Lindiwe now had to supply about two times a week in one of the numerous out-of-bound workplaces. There was a constant stream of consumers who came to enjoy the low-cost satisfaction that immigrant labour was now providing: 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 physical fluids that the clients believed was a required part of love-making but throughout which ordeal the vaginal penetration was probably the least distasteful part.

In the town’s brief history, few 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 choice from the numerous federal 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 treat prohibited immigrants with any more generosity than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her presence had actually been found by an official at any point on her voyage. Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night spent in the area of the bus depot in the business of others with absolutely 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 apparent distaste of native English residents, many of whom freely taunted Lindiwe with unsubtle pointers of the unethical practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.