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

However desperation had driven Lindiwe to severe procedures, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d also survived the journey.

Lindiwe had not viewed the stops on her voyage as a traveler might, although there were few European tourists who would venture into sub-Saharan Africa these days. What she saw of the countless 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 many absolutely no passport controllers. Had she met 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 dumped back in her country of origin or detained in one of the countless refugee camps that lined the shores of North Africa. And from what Lindiwe had actually become aware of these camps, her more than likely fate there would be a lonely death while she waited for a decision from the many government firms and personal charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the obligation for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.

Nobody would wish to be strained with such obligation when there were numerous other more instant requirements to resolve.

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

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There had actually 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 had to sacrifice her virginity just 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 very little pay and a good deal of physical and spoken abuse in occupations 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 qualifications that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high wish for Ashton Lovelock. Despite the falling apart decay of the hastily-built house she was staying in, it was a reasonably young town with energy-efficient housing, comprehensive parking spaces, and a profusion of windmills and photovoltaic panels.

The truth was that Ashton Lovelock was a genuine paradise compared to her original home in Africa. The years of African starvation had not reduced general population numbers by very much. The few offered jobs paid really badly if they ever paid at all.

Ashton Lovelock, on the other hand, was a town of owner-occupation that had now end up being an area of squats as the variety of those who might manage to buy 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 3rd generation Asian immigrants, but the regrettable policies of the recently deposed Government of National Unity had resulted in their total evacuation. This inevitably left a vacuum that was now being filled by the latest wave of immigrants: of which Lindiwe was one. However she was only one of numerous. 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 required lie, made plausible in the consequences of the National Server Centre Riots. Many came from Africa, a minimum of as numerous from the Middle East and Asia, and, undoubtedly, refugees from the racially intolerant Republic of North America. The one thing everybody had in common was a shared

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Aparo shared the same single bed mattress with Lindiwe in a space that had actually as soon as been a loft extension. Apara and Lindiwe shared the bed mattress in the daytime hours.

” There are no tasks at KFC-McDonalds,” said Aparo, describing the franchise where she worked. “You’re just going to need to try to find work somewhere else.”

Lindiwe’s heart sank. She couldn’t sleep on the bed mattress during the night since Mr and Mrs Martin would be there and there weren’t numerous locations open at night where she could wish to discover work. This indicated that her pursuit of work would also suggest going without sleep.

Nevertheless, bored and bleary-eyed, after a night invested in the vicinity 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 opportunity. Not that there were lots of locations to visit in the town centre. The proprietor of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was sympathetic but explained that there was a long waiting list of equally desperate prospects. The other fast-food chain, Yo Sushi Pizza Hut, was rather less friendly and basically informed her that just Muslim men could use. Besides that, the only grocery store– a Tesco-Walmart– was honestly hostile and informed her that the business had a policy of reporting believed immigrants. So there was little hope there either.

Lindiwe quickly realised that there were no jobs for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant neighborhood had already taken all the offered low-paid chances. And this was much to the obvious distaste of native English people, a number of whom openly ridiculed Lindiwe with unsubtle reminders of the unethical 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, gained a position but as absolutely nothing more demanding than a nightshift cleaning-woman. This position required a pricey two-hour commute by bus followed by a half-hour walk it was still much better than having to invest the whole night avoiding the couple sleeping on her daytime bed mattress.

Her main tasks mainly included changing on and turning off the numerous cleaning devices and robotics. However, it wasn’t long till Lindiwe discovered that cleansing wasn’t whatever she was expected to do, although it wasn’t written into her conditions of work (which, in any case, were totally spoken and agreed with a handshake).

During the very first week that Lindiwe worked at the George Monbiot eco-business park, she became conscious of the existence of spaces 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 workplaces so late at night were security guards and technical operatives.

It soon ended up being apparent what was happening when Lindiwe bumped into any of the people who had actually been staying in a locked space. Lindiwe also observed the odor of sex that was sticking around on their individual.

” I like all the staff to chip in,” Lindiwe’s boss explained as he handed her the meagre rewards for her first week’s work. He was a slender dark-skinned man with a turban and a West Midlands accent. He was an exile who ‘d returned home after the modification of government. “The benefits are additional pay. I can’t assure a fortune but tips can make a difference.”

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

” The modification of federal government brought about lots of excellent opportunities,” Mr Singh said with a sigh, “otherwise I wouldn’t be here, of course. This operation is comparable to lots of others you’ll find all over this nation.

And what they wanted was something Lindiwe now had to supply about two times a week in one of the a number of out-of-bound offices. There was a stable stream of clients who came to enjoy the affordable satisfaction that immigrant labour was now offering: their hungers whetted by the VR dreams they could enjoy in the convenience of their own houses.

For Lindiwe, this offered 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 consumers believed was an essential part of love-making but throughout which ordeal the vaginal penetration was probably the least horrible part.

In the town’s brief history, few had actually 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 lonely death while she waited for a decision from the lots of federal government companies 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 expect Ashton Lovelock to treat prohibited immigrants with any more kindness than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had actually been found 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 company of others with nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely wandered the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for a work opportunity. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English residents, numerous of whom honestly teased Lindiwe with unsubtle suggestions of the unethical practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

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