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After many months of struggle and sacrifice, the tough journey was lastly 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 endured the hardship, cravings and rape. Few would have voluntarily paid so much from so little cost savings to make a home in the fifty year old English New Town.

Desperation had driven Lindiwe to extreme measures, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d likewise endured the journey.

Lindiwe hadn’t viewed the stops on her trip 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 soaring above the clouds and spotting ahead of a path of prohibitively costly fossil fuel. She saw no airports and the majority of absolutely 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 police van either to be discarded back in her country of origin or detained in among the many refugee camps that lined the coasts of North Africa. And from what Lindiwe had become aware of these camps, her most likely fate there would be a lonesome death while she waited on a choice from the many government companies and personal charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the obligation for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.

When there were so many other more instant requirements to resolve, no one would desire to be burdened with such obligation.

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

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There had been several times when she ‘d had to utilize her body as currency to keep her and her buddies safe. This had held true from the very start of her journey when she ‘d had to sacrifice her virginity just to secure an exit visa from the United States of South Africa. There were the weeks and, in the shanty towns of Cairo, the months of working for extremely little pay and a great deal of physical and spoken abuse in professions that were even 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 expect Ashton Lovelock. Regardless of the falling apart decay of the hastily-built house she was staying in, it was a fairly young town with energy-efficient housing, comprehensive parking spaces, and a profusion of windmills and solar panels.

The reality was that Ashton Lovelock was a genuine paradise compared to her original home in Africa. The years of African famine had not minimized overall population numbers by very much. Maseru still housed a population far greater than its infrastructure could support. The police were futile versus the criminal gangs that made it dangerous to venture out whether at day or night. The few available tasks paid very improperly if they ever paid at all. Homes and offices were collapsing from overlook. Lines of starving individuals wound through the high streets for the few goods the criminal gangs permitted to get here in the shops. Just a fortunate few were ever rewarded for their patience.

This inevitably left a vacuum that was now being filled by the latest wave of immigrants: of which Lindiwe was one. She was only one of numerous. 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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Aparo shared the same single mattress with Lindiwe in a room that had when been a loft extension. Apara and Lindiwe shared the mattress in the daytime hours.

” There are no tasks at KFC-McDonalds,” stated Aparo, referring to the franchise where she worked. “You’re simply going to have to try to find work elsewhere.”

Lindiwe’s heart sank. She couldn’t sleep on the mattress at night due to the fact that Mr and Mrs Martin would be there and there weren’t numerous places open in the evening where she might intend to find work. This indicated that her pursuit of employment would likewise imply going without sleep.

Bleary-eyed and bored, after a night invested in the vicinity of the bus depot in the company of others with absolutely nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely roamed the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for a work chance. Not that there were lots of locations to check out in the town centre. The owner of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was understanding however pointed out that there was a long waiting list of similarly desperate prospects.

Lindiwe soon understood that there were no jobs for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant community had currently taken all the offered low-paid opportunities. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English citizens, many of whom freely teased Lindiwe with unsubtle suggestions of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

The ever-widening radius of her job search eventually encompassed an organization estate on the border of Swindon where Lindiwe, at last, acquired 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 much better than having to spend the whole night avoiding the couple sleeping on her daytime mattress.

Her official jobs mostly involved changing on and switching off the various cleaning devices and robotics. It wasn’t long till Lindiwe found that cleansing wasn’t everything she was anticipated to do, although it wasn’t written into her terms and conditions of work (which, in any case, were totally spoken and agreed 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 rooms that were out of bounds to her and the other night-time operatives. This was odd since the only people expected to be working at the workplaces so late at night were security guards and technical operatives.

It soon ended up being evident what was taking place when Lindiwe ran into any of individuals who ‘d been staying in a locked room. It was always a woman and a guy. The lady was usually much younger than the man and usually an immigrant. Lindiwe also noticed the smell of sex that was sticking around on their person. Her nostrils had become well attuned to the odour after the weeks she ‘d invested in Sarajevo in which her survival depended 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 slender dark-skinned guy with a turban and a West Midlands accent. He was an exile who ‘d returned home after the change of federal government. “The advantages are extra pay. I can’t guarantee a fortune but pointers can make a distinction.”

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

” The change of federal government brought about numerous good opportunities,” 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 provide about two times a week in among the numerous out-of-bound offices. They were provided with rather basic beds rather than chairs, computers and desks. The felt-covered partitions around each cubicle now served the function of hiding what was going on. There was a stable stream of customers who pertained to take pleasure in the economical pleasures that immigrant labour was now providing: their cravings whetted by the VR dreams they might enjoy in the convenience of their own homes.

For Lindiwe, this offered no satisfaction 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 customers thought was an essential part of love-making however during which experience 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 actually heard about these camps, her most likely fate there would be a lonesome death while she waited for a decision from the lots of 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 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 authorities at any point on her trip. Bleary-eyed and bored, 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 obvious distaste of native English citizens, many of whom honestly ridiculed Lindiwe with unsubtle suggestions of the dishonest practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.